Page 3 of Things Good Girls Don't Do (Rock Canyon, Idaho 1)

Katie fought the urge to fan herself as she heard Mrs. Andrews’s gasp. She remembered the first time she’d seen Chase after he moved to Rock Canyon five months ago. He’d been moving through the crowd at Buck’s Shot Bar, handing out business cards for his parlor. He’d stopped in front of Steph and her, holding out a card to each of them, and when Chase’s hand had touched Katie’s it had been electric. Too bad he hadn’t seemed as affected by it as her; he’d moved on to the next group without so much as a backward glance. She’d been a little disappointed at his dismissal, and when she’d seen him in the crowd at the Valentine’s Day singles auction, she had secretly hoped he might bid on her. It was an idiotic hope, though. She went off with Carl, and Chase got into a bidding war with Gregg Phillips over

Ryan Ashton. He’d lost out, and since then she’d seen him out with several women, but never the same one twice. It seemed Chase preferred a certain type of woman and none of them had a reputation for being a “good” girl, unlike Katie, who couldn’t even seem to return a library book late.

It was just as well that he had never looked at her like that. Chase was a heartbreaker, the kind of guy everyone in town disapproved of, but that didn’t mean he didn’t get her blood pumping anytime he came near her. Only last week he’d joined her best friend Stephanie, her husband Jared, and Katie for a friendly game of pool. When she kept missing shot after shot, he’d taken her aside, bent her over the table, and whispered, “Now, what you want to do is . . .”

She honestly couldn’t remember what else he’d said as he’d folded that tall, muscular frame over hers and she’d felt every breath of his words against her hair, cheek, and neck. Her butt had been cradled perfectly against his jean-clad crotch and instinct had screamed at her to wiggle against him, but good girls didn’t do that. It would have been vulgar, and nice girls were never vulgar.

He’d finally backed away from her and she’d told everyone she needed to leave, that she’d forgotten to feed her cat. She’d figured her crazy attraction to him was just a side effect of her stagnant sex life and she just needed to put some distance between them, but the memory of his body flush against hers was something that gave her ideas. Naughty, naked, sweaty ideas.

Katie realized both Chase and Mrs. Andrews were staring at her.

“I’m sorry, I have so much to get done, I guess I spaced out for a minute. I’ll get this to the bank tomorrow, Chase, and thank you for renting a booth.”

He gave that sexy I-know-how-hot-I-am-smile and said, “Sure, Katie, anything to help the town.”

Katie tried to keep her head down so he wouldn’t see her bright red cheeks or the dirty thoughts lurking in her eyes. What was wrong with her?

Turning away with a mumbled good-bye, she walked toward the patch of dirt used as a parking lot and shook her head at her own stupidity. It didn’t matter that Chase Trepasso was probably one hell of a good time or that those gray eyes held enough heat to light a barbecue. Thinking about him in that way was a mistake.

Katie got into her 4Runner and headed to her little two-bedroom house on Oak Avenue. It was affordable and had plenty of room for her and her big, fat black cat, Slinks. She’d bought it seven months ago, after Jimmy had told her he was leaving their little apartment at the edge of town.

Her hands clenched every time she thought of that morning, when he’d calmly told her over a stack of waffles and black coffee that as much as he cared about her, he had met someone else. Seven years together. Seven years of washing his clothes and making him birthday cakes. Seven damn years of talk about marriage, kids, and their life together, and he had dumped her as casually as if he’d asked for the syrup. And Katie had sat there, trying not to cry because her mother had always said, “Good girls never make a scene.”

But she’d wanted too. She still did. Every time someone mentioned his name, she pictured slapping his face or busting out the windows on his stupid truck, or what he always referred to as his “baby,” right in front of him. She must have listened to that Carrie Underwood song “Before He Cheats” a hundred times a day for a month after Jimmy had come by to get his stuff with a few of his buddies. She’d left the apartment while he was there, gone to Steph’s house and bawled like a baby. Steph had tried to cheer her up, threatening all kinds of castration and venting her own hatred, but nothing had helped. When she’d learned Jimmy had rented an apartment in Twin Falls with Selena—ugh, even her name was better than Katie’s—she hadn’t even been relieved that she wouldn’t be bumping into them. All she could feel was rage that he had said he wasn’t “emotionally mature enough” for marriage with her, while little Miss DD just needed to wiggle her butt and boom! Two months later they were picking out curtains.

That was when she’d decided to buy the house and salon, and even though both had needed quite a bit of work, she’d valued the distraction. She’d spent months updating the house— which had needed all new fixtures and paint—and organizing all of her things the way she liked them. She could put her decorating skills on Pinterest, they were so cookie-cutter-esque.

One good thing about Jimmy leaving: no big, muddy work boots mucking up her clean floors. And she definitely had more room for her clothes and her craft corner. Her mother always said, “Idle hands are the devil’s tools.”

Katie parked her car in the carport and went to the end of her drive to get her mail. She pulled open the little white box decorated with trees and flowers, an impulsive buy from T.J. Maxx, but she loved it. Thumbing through the stack of bills, she found a large white envelope. Flipping it over, she opened the seal and pulled out the off-white invitation curiously. When Katie read the names in the perfect, swirly script, she felt like she’d been hit by a bus.

Mr. and Mrs. Harold Lenier

request the honor of your presence

to celebrate the marriage of their daughter,

Selena Marie Lenier

to

James Thomas Lawrence

How could he? She couldn’t read anymore, her vision was so blurred by angry tears. Seven years and all she had was a couple of necklaces and a pair of emerald earrings. What had Selena done that had gotten her an engagement ring in just a few months? And why would he send her a wedding invitation? To hurt her? There was no reason why he would want to, at least none that she could think of. He had cheated on her, not the other way around, and the worst thing she had done was keep his favorite Toby Keith T-shirt before shredding it with a pair of scissors. What man in his right mind would think it was okay to humiliate her all over again by flaunting his happiness?

Katie stuffed the invitation back into the envelope and pulled out her cell phone.

Steph picked up on the second ring. “That low-down, no-good son of a bitch!”

Katie smiled at her best friend’s outrage and said dryly, “I take it you got one too?”

“I don’t know why in the hell he thought either Jared or I would want to go to his wedding. We only tolerated his no-good cheating butt because you thought you loved him! I tried to tell you he was shifty! Didn’t I tell you he was shifty?”

Katie rolled her eyes as she unlocked the door. “Yes, I heard shifty several times.”

“Want me to come over? I can bring a bottle of wine and some brownies from The Local Bean. We can get stuffed and wasted. Maybe even look up how to make a voodoo doll.”

Katie dropped the mail down on her table and sighed, “Thanks, but I think I’m just going to have some dinner, take a bath, and pop in a DVD.”

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