Page 155 of Boots, Bucket Lists & Bad Ideas
“And just like that, the bull wins round one.”
Josie dusts off her pants. “I just wanted to give the bull some confidence back.”
The operator chuckles through the speaker.
“But that wasn’t my final performance,” she adds.
He leans over the booth, clearly amused. “You coming back for a rematch?”
She grins as she steps down off the mat, never breaking eye contact. “Eventually. So don’t go shutting that booth down too early tonight. I’ll be back and not for the bull.” She tosses a wink up at him.
“And that, ladies and gentlemen,” Dean says. “Is how you get laid.”
“Is that how you think you got me?” Harper circles beside Dean and sips his drink.
“You’ve never been able to resist this charm.” He tilts his head. “And this jawline.”
“It wasn’t the charm or the jawline. It was the guy who showed up when no one was watching.”
He grips her chin and pulls her close. “Shh...that’s my best-kept secret and you’re supposed to protect it.” He kisses her.
I remember once thinking I was Hart’s best-kept secret, only he was keeping a far bigger secret from me. And there are times it feels like he’s still keeping one from me.
Josie is still catching her breath when she gets to us.
Hannah smirks. “How’d that ‘boss’ moment work out for you?”
Josie holds up a finger. “First of all,”—she inhales deeply, and releases—“I didn’t fall. I made a swift, very graceful exit.”
Daisy laughs. “You lasted like, ten seconds.”
She shrugs. “And made every one of those seconds look good.”
“That’s up for debate.” Bronx raises his drink at her. “But congrats. Message heard loud and clear. Ain’t a man in here that don’t know you’re lookin’ for a ride tonight. Rookie mistake, kid.”
She narrows her eyes at him, and her flirt is gone. “You make it sound like I’m some amateur.”
He chuckles, taking a slow sip of his drink, then leans back against his chair and scans the room. “It ain’t about bein’ fresh outta the gate, little one. Every newbie pulls it. But don’t worry, you’ll get the hang of it.”
“It’s cute you think I need ‘figuring out’.” She licks her lips. “I mean, I have a fuck date tonight. What about you?”
“Mm. Maybe I do. Kinda depends on where the night ends up.” He takes a sip of his drink.
She leans over the table. “Is that an offer?”
He chokes on his sip. Coughs, then clears his throat fast.
“What? No—I meant—I wasn’t—” He fumbles, then rubs the back of his neck, trying to laugh it off. “I was talkin’ in general.”
She grins like she just won a game and bumps my hip as she walks beside him. “Sure you were.” She takes his drink and finishes it off. “Don’t be mad,Daddy, but you’re not my type.”
He stiffens.
Just slightly.
But we all see it.
His mouth opens like he’s about to fire back—then closes again, jaw flexing. He ain’t flirting. He’s damn well furious.
