Page 25 of Good at Being Bad (Rock Canyon, Idaho 8)

“I’ll be right back,” Ellie mumbled.

“Hello?” he said.

“Hang on, lover, I’m out to lunch with my sisters and need to excuse myself if you’re going to say those kinds of naughty things to me.”

“What. Are. You. Talking. About?” he shouted.

“Ow, that was my ear. Will you relax? This is step one in my plan to make you irresistible.”

“Telling your sisters we are hooking up is going to help me?

“Yes, dummy. At least six people heard me talking about your prowess in Jensen’s Diner—

“Not Jensen’s!” He was never going to be able to show his face there again. Good-bye delicious bacon burgers.

“Will you just listen and stop being a spaz? If women in town think you are into casual sex, then you’re less threatening. You’re no longer the relationship guy, but the fun, hot, roll-around-in-the-sack guy they’ve been dreaming about. You’re a challenge and women love to chase a man, catch him, and brand him.”

“Sounds like you’re comparing men to cattle.”

“Same concept. Now, if you want, I can go back in there and retract everything I said…including that you are incredible with your mouth.”

Mike groaned as she paused, he assumed for dramatic effect. “Or, you can trust me and give me one month to help you rope a cowgirl.”

Despite his humiliation, Mike considered, thinking of Wendy and the way she’d eyeballed him.

Why the hell not? “I’m putty in your hands, Obi-Wan.”

“At least you didn’t say Yoda. Being compared to a wrinkly green creature with giant ears is not a compliment.”

“So, what’s next?” Mike asked.

“I’ll tell you more about it tonight, at your place. Text me your address. I’ll bring the Chinese; you supply the drinks.”

Ellie pulled up to Mike’s little blue house a little after seven-thirty. She carried a bag containing highlighters, a notebook, and Mike’s pickup artist book inside, and another bag containing Chinese takeout. She’d texted Mike to get his order, surprised that it was very similar to hers. A guy who loved orange chicken as much as she did couldn’t be all bad.

What had been bad was applying for entry-level jobs all afternoon, followed by a phone call from her dad. Those never ended well.

At first, he’d been fine. asking her how she was and if she was still tending bar.

He’d offered her a secretarial job in his office, which she declined, like she did every time he asked. Then he’d done the unspeakable.

He’d tried to get her to go out with a fellow senator’s son.

God, he just never learned. He’d forced Val into a marriage she didn’t want because it was advantageous for him, and he’d been blinded by his own ambition that he’d missed everything Caroline had been through growing up because of it.

She’d very nicely declined, but when he started to press the issue, she’d hung up. Considering he hadn’t tried to call her back, she was pretty sure he got the message.

Why couldn’t he just be a normal dad, who hated the thought of his daughters dating anyone?

She couldn’t help thinking her mother would be ashamed of him if she were alive.

God, what is wrong with you? The last few days, you have been a pity party of one.

Desperate to think of anything but her father, she knocked on the door. An explosion of high-pitched barking grew closer.

“Be quiet, Smalls,” Mike’s deep rumble commanded.

The barking paused, but started up again as Mike pulled the door open.

---