Page 11 of Hell or High Water

Jayda: I will be there in a few. But only because I’m nosy and I want to see what she looks like.

I rolled my eyes. Of course Jayda had the lowdown on who Montana was. She lived in Linc’s house most of the time. It was hard to keep shit from her. She heard everything. It was the main reason that Linc didn’t want Montana in his house. He didn’t want her to hear anything. That, and he didn’t like the idea of disturbing his wife’s and daughter’s peace. He liked his time with them to be uninterrupted.

Me: Thanks.

“I asked Jayda to bring me some game food,” I told Gathe.

“So, where is she? That cabin isn’t big. Y’all watching the game together?”

“Jayda is at the big house. She’s not here.” I knew that wasn’t who he was talking about. I was being an ass.

“Not Jayda! Baskin’s bastard.”

I glanced back at the closed bedroom door. “She’s closed up in the bedroom. Hopefully not coming out.”

“Ouch. Damn, that bad, huh?” he said.

“Yep,” I replied.

“All right, I’m getting back in there. If she’s not a sex kitten, then this shit is just boring.”

I smirked, closing the door to the refrigerator and heading back over to the sofa. “You have no idea.”

He chuckled, then ended the call.

I dropped my phone on the cushion beside me and propped my feet up on the table.

Linc was right. Gathe would have fucked her. That face of hers would have left him speechless, and her body would have gotten his dick so damn hard that he’d have started salivating. I hadn’t wanted to be stuck with this job before I saw her. Now, I sure as hell didn’t want it.

The game playing got my attention, and I relaxed, drinking my soda, wishing that I’d told Jayda to bring me a beer too. Thinking that was a good idea, I reached for my phone just as the bedroom door opened. Turning my head in that direction was a simple reaction. The sight that walked out was anything but simple. Forget the beer. I needed to request an entire bottle of whiskey.

Her eyes met mine, and earlier, I’d thought her eyes were olive green, but right now, they reminded me more of sea glass. All that long, dark chocolate hair was pulled up into a bun with a few tendrils that hadn’t quite made it hanging in loose curls, and that damn button nose that did the slightest upturn on the end had a scattering of freckles over it that had been covered up earlier with makeup. I tried hard not to look at the mouth. It was her best feature, and that was saying a lot.

Apparently, she did not own a motherfucking bra. Like the halter top she’d worn with ripped jeans that clung to her body as if it had been a second skin when we had picked her up, she was in a cropped T-shirt that revealed even more of her flat, toned stomach. The shorts she had changed into hung on her hips and could use a few inches more. Preferably all the way to her ankles.

I jerked my head back around and glared at the television as if it had offended me. My cock, her clothing choices, and those motherfucking freckles were the offenders. I didn’t speak and tried to think about shit to make the hardening in my jeans go away. She didn’t say anything either.

The only sound was the soft padding of her bare feet as she walked behind me and into the kitchen. Maybe she had ugly feet. I wouldn’t know. I hadn’t made it past her fucking stripper-worthy legs. God, I hoped her feet were ugly. That would turn me off. I thought. Probably. I had a thing about feet. But the rest of her was so damn perfect that I wasn’t sure her feet would matter. Ugly ones would help though. I could just look at those when I talked to her.

Her reflection in the flat screen showed her looking in the cabinet for something. I could probably help her, but I wasn’t going to. She could find it. There weren’t many places to look.

The next time the screen went to black, I saw her putting something on a plate, then picking up a glass and taking a drink. When she reached up to get something from the cabinet over her head, the top she was wearing rode up further, and I held my breath, praying it didn’t show any tits and wishing it would at the same time. Angrily, I grabbed my phone to look at emails. Anything but the screen.

A knock on the door was a relief. Jayda. A distraction. I jumped up and headed to answer it. From the corner of my eye, I could see that Montana had stilled and was watching me, but she still didn’t speak.

Opening the door to Jayda, holding a large, reusable tote bag that she took to the grocery store with her, I wanted to weep with joy.

“You know how much I love you, don’t you?” I told her, reaching to take the bag.

“All men do, honey. Get in line,” she retorted with a smirk, tossing her deep auburn hair over her shoulder and strutting inside past me.

Jayda starred in several of my fantasies. I’d gotten off to thoughts of her and her longtime girlfriend, Beth, many times in the shower. She was tall, willowy, and stunning. Walking into the kitchen at Linc’s one day to catch her and Beth kissing had given me a boner for fucking days. I’d been twenty-two at the time, but I was sure it would do the same thing now. I doubted that was something a man outgrew.

“Hello,” Jayda said brightly as she entered the cabin. “I’m Jayda. Your supplier of meals.”

“Oh, thank you,” Montana replied with that fucking sultry voice I wished would continue being unused. “I wasn’t expecting food already in the refrigerator when I arrived, but it was a pleasant surprise.”

Jayda pulled out a stool and sat her ass down. Great. She was going to stay and chat with Montana, who I was trying to ignore.

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