Page 63 of Bad For Me (Rock Canyon, Idaho 5)

“Yeah, but losing a parent never gets easier. I lost my mom when I was a teenager, and it still eats at me.”

“How did she die?”

“Car accident. She rolled off an embankment during a snowstorm, and no one found her until the next day. They said she died on impact, but the thought’s always there, wondering if someone had found her just a little earlier . . . ”

Maybe she’d be alive now. She knew exactly what he was saying. She’d had the same what-if thoughts too. “I understand how you feel. My mom was . . . attacked, and I always wonder if I had come home just a few minutes sooner, maybe she’d be okay.”

“I’ve learned that you’ll drive yourself crazy looking back and wondering what you could have done better. You’re better off learning from it and moving on.”

The conversation was quickly spiraling, and she didn’t want to give him a chance to ask about her mother’s attack or her own past. God, why had she opened up the can of worms by asking about his mother’s accident?

Because it’s natural to ask your partner about his past.

“So after the tattoo parlor, we were going to run off to Vegas and elope with a couple of Duck Dynasty wannabes, but then we found out they had bad credit.”

Everett laughed and the tightness in her chest eased. “Well, that’s too bad. Sorry your plans fell through and you got stuck with me.”

“I wouldn’t call it stuck . . . ”

“Brat.”

“No, actually, I started the evening off surrounded by drunk, screaming women and dildos.”

“Come again?”

“They arranged for Becca from Sweet Tarts to come in and do a sex toy demonstration. If you liked the stuff, you could buy it.”

Everett’s laughter exploded over the line. “Get anything good?”

He was messing with her and she knew it, but she blushed anyway. Wanting to throw him off, she lowered her voice in what she hoped was a sexy purr. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

“I would, actually,” he said, purring right back, the sound sending bolts of desire between her legs.

“Well, too bad.”

He chuckled, and she smiled in response. “Now I’m imagining all kinds of gadgets and gizmos—”

“I didn’t buy any toys,” she said swiftly.

“Oh really?”

“Yeah, they were too much. One of them was even pierced, and I just can’t imagine why anyone would want that.”

“I guess because some women are into pierced tongues and . . . other things,” he said.

An image of a Prince Albert piercing burned into her brain. “Ugh, and now I’m picturing it.”

“Sorry.”

“Wait, were you trying to save my delicate sensibilities?”

“Trying.”

“Well, you didn’t quite succeed, but that was very chivalrous of you.”

“I’m chivalrous all the time,” he said, sounding affronted.

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