Page 9 of Don't Want to Fall
“Ow!” She hops back, lifting one foot.
“Fucking flip-flops,” I grumble, instantly yanked back to reality. As attracted as I am to Devin Rollins, she’s just another tourist who wants to use me for my body. And though I don’thatethat idea, I’m not going down that road. Not with her.
“I don’t have any other shoes,” she protests. “Is that a deal breaker or something?”
“Let me make this really clear for you.” I fold my arms over my chest, mostly to make sure my actions match my words. Because the temptation to yank her into my embrace and kiss that shiny lip gloss right off her mouth is overwhelming. The whole pull between us is scrambling my fucking brain. “I’m not interested in fulfilling your ridiculous fantasy.”
“Oh,” she says, flinching as though I’d slapped her. Behind the surprise in her eyes, there’s a flash of hurt that makes me feel like an asshole. It doesn’t make any sense when she propositioned me. “I’m sorry. Thank you for the tour.”
She turns, walking toward the lodge entrance without a backward glance.
It takes every ounce of fight in me not to go after her. Maybe if I used my fucking words, explained that she hit a nerve, we could start over. Get a drink, as friends. See where things might lead from there. See if there’s any possibility she might be interested in being a nurse in Montana.
But it’s my stupid pride that keeps my feet rooted in place.
Just shy of the entrance, Devin starts patting her ass, as if searching for something. She freezes, hands on both cheeks.Fuck me if I’m not a little jealous of those hands right now. She has a great ass, and I’d really like to feel it for myself.
She hangs her head and slowly turns around.
“I don’t suppose there’s a phone in that van,” she calls back to me.
I search the vehicle as she walks back in my direction, but there’s no trace of the missing phone.
“Are you sure you brought it with you?” It’s a stupid question, considering she spent half the tour taking pictures on it and the other half searching for a signal.
“I remember getting lectured by your eight-going-on-sixteen-year-old daughter about putting my phone away. I brought it. Which means…” She lets out a heavy sigh. “It’s at the picnic site in the park.”
Fuck.
“I’ll ask Winnie if I can borrow the van,” Devin says before I can speak up. “I think I remember how to get there, but I bet she has a map.”
“You can’t get in the park.”
“Why not? Isn’t it free entry after hours?”
“You can’t get to the road we were on without special access, no matter the time of day.”
“Park ranger special access?” she guesses, looking less than amused by that realization. “I’d offer to buyyoua drink if you gave me a ride out there, but somehow, I don’t think that’ll go over well. But I could pay you?”
“You don’t need to pay me.”
“You sure? Seems like you could probably use some dollar bills for that swear tab you’re running up with your daughter.”
I hardly recognize the sound of laughter leaving my throat. These days, Tabby’s the only one who can get a chuckle out of me.
“How about ten crisp one dollar bills?” she offers, opening the passenger door of my truck and hopping in.
I try to look the other way, but it’s a half-assed effort. My fingers itch to grip those firm cheeks as I tug her hips against?—
“Twelve if we see a moose.”
“Twelve?”
“That’s all I have.”
“Why do you have that many one dollar bills at all?”
“From all the stripping.”
