Page 64 of I Want Crazy (Loco, Texas 3)

He opened the door and nearly slipped on what looked like the remains of a quiche. Puzzled, he called, “Jessie, what happ—shit!”

He ducked just in time to avoid the flying coffee cup aimed at his head.

“I can’t believe I trusted you, you bastard!”

Red tried to swerve around another dish, and it caught his shoulder. “Jessie, stop it! What’s going on?”

“What’s going on? How about your new book, Albert? How about the fact that you used me as a character?”

“My character?” Her words sank in, and he cursed. “You read my manuscript?”

“I was curious. I loved your other book and couldn’t wait to see what this one was about. Boy, was I surprised!”

Red set the roses and orange juice down, and took another step toward her. He saw the tears on her cheeks and held his hands out as he said, “Jessie, it’s not you. It’s a character—”

“Liar!” Another missile. “You are a no good, fucking liar! You used me! After what I told you, after what happened before, you still used me.”

“No, honey, it’s not—”

“Don’t you fucking call me that!”

He needed to stop this before she destroyed all his dishes. He rushed her, wrapping his arms around hers to keep her still. “Stop it.”

She was kicking and screaming every vile obscenity he’d ever heard and then some at him. When her heel caught him in the shin, he winced but held on until her struggles subsided.

“Let me go!”

“Jessie, I just need you to listen—”

“Let me go, Red.”

He released her reluctantly but tried to take her hand. “Jessie, I swear, it’s not you. I use my experiences in my writing, but the woman in that book is a character I made up.”

“She’s blonde, with green eyes. She has a personality to curdle milk—”

“See, that’s not you—”

“She’s running from her mobster ex-boyfriend because she witnessed a murder—”

“See, not even the same issues.”

“What about the bakery scene?” she whispered.

Shit. In the book, the hero and heroine had made love on a prep table in the back of the bakery.

“It’s not you,” he repeated.

A horn honked outside, and she pushed away from him. “That’s my ride.”

“Wait, where are you going?” He tried to hold on to her, but she tore away from him.

“I’m going home. I’m getting the hell out of this town and away from you.”

He grabbed her arm gently and pleaded, “Don’t. Please.”

“Come on, you had your fun, you wrote your book. What do I need to stay for?” She sneered at him, and it was so convincing, he almost believed she didn’t care.

He needed her to know, if only to stop her from ruining what they had. “Because I love you.”

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