Page 40 of Things Good Girls Don't Do (Rock Canyon, Idaho 1)

“I see.” And Chase hated it. He hated that Katie had done the pageant for Jimmy. The guy hadn’t deserved her.

And you do? You aren’t exactly a good guy either.

“Do you see my underwear?” she said, frowning as she shook out her skirt.

Looking along the floor with her, he didn’t see them. The thought of Katie standing on stage in a pageant dress after wild sex with him and missing her panties was enough to make him want to start all over. “No, I don’t.”

Pulling her skirt over her legs with a grumble, she started to work it up over her bare thighs while he watched hungrily. Trying to distract himself, he prodded, “So your mom wanted you to be confident and have opinions as long as they went along with hers?”

She stopped and glanced at him sharply. “My mother just wanted me to be polite and have the right morals and values.”

Swiping his boxers off the front seat, he stepped into them and pulled them up. He didn’t know why that comment rubbed him wrong, but it did. “I’m guessing Mommy Dearest wouldn’t have approved of me, then. I’m not exactly the boy next door.”

Her expression changed from mildly annoyed to darkly furious in a flash. “First of all, do not call my mother that. She was a wonderful woman who just wanted what was best for me. She might have been strict, but she was also there for me, always. And second, I don’t know why you’re attacking me, but if I didn’t want to be here, I wouldn’t be.”

Chase wondered what life would have been like if his mother had been more like Katie’s. Would he have spent so much time alone and still discovered art? Or would he have ended up playing football and becoming a lawyer? Who knew? He liked his life, was proud of the things he had done, but he realized that despite her mother’s wacky ideals, he actually envied Katie. Growing up with a parent who only wanted you to be happy and succeed?

Must have been nice.

“I thought it was just because I offered,” he said.

“No, you idiot, I’m here with you because I like you. You are handsome, accomplished, and I’m happy when I’m with you,” Katie said.

Her words hit him like a ton of bricks and he reached out for her, surprised she came so willingly when a few seconds before she’d looked like she wanted to throttle him. He stroked her wild curls and kissed her hair. “I’m sorry I was being a dick. You aren’t like the other women I’ve been with. You’re . . . well, nice.”

“Well, thanks . . . I think. Why would you date mean women?” she asked.

“Just the type I usually attract,” he said.

“Lucky you,” she said sarcastically. “I usually attract selfish, cheating buttheads, so I guess we both have bad taste.” Snuggling against his chest, she added, “I’ll give you a pass this time on account of you usually dating harpies. Next time, though, you’re in trouble, mister.”

“Are you going to punish me?” he asked.

He felt a light nip on his neck. “Oh yeah, big time.”

“Spanking?”

“Possibly.”

“You are such a tease.” He groaned.

Pulling away, she looked up at him, raising one perfectly arched eyebrow. “Who said I’m teasing?”

She just kept surprising him: sweet and warm to feisty and flirty in zero to sixty. Chase liked that about her.

Moving out of his embrace, she reached up front for her purse, grabbing the strap and pulling it back into her lap. She stuck her hands in to grab her phone and sighed. “Great, it’s 5:43. I have to be at the community center in fifteen minutes to get ready or Mrs. Andrews is going to have my head.”

Chase pretended to shudder. “That woman is terrifying.”

“Tell me about it.” Katie, fully dressed, bent all the way over and peered along the floor. With a groan, she sat back up. “I give up! I have no idea where they went.”

“What? Your underwear? They’ll turn up when I clean this thing out,” he said.

“That doesn’t exactly help me now,” she said, starting to crawl over the middle console. With her cute little rear in the air, he couldn’t resist giving it a pat.

She flopped into the front seat and he caught her glare as he grabbed his jeans. “Sorry, couldn’t help myself.”

“Do you know how cave-mannish it is to slap a woman’s butt? Next you’ll be yelling, ‘Honey, can you get me a beer?’”

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