Page 52 of Mustang Valley

My body slumps, and my head falls back to the pillow. I take the one next to me and slap it over my face.The fuck?I just slept with my boss. We weren’t drunk, so there’s not even a shit excuse for us. Jesus, Mary, and Joseph can’t help me now.

It’s too hot and suffocating under the pillow as my cheeks heat from the thought of it, but when I shove the pillow away again, it occurs to me that Dash told me this story,aftersex.

Andbeforewe did it, he was… intimate. Tender… This doesn’t really feel like the accident I’m preparing to apologize for and pretend never happened. As if I’d ever be able to pretend this never happened. What happened between us, his perfect body, his naughty mouth, the ecstasy… that was a once-in-a-lifetime experience.

Shit. Here I go, falling for the tortured hero.Again.

I pull on some sweatpants, put my puppies back in a bra, and throw a sweatshirt over me. I brush my hair while staring at my reflection in the mirror, considering waiting for Dash to finish eating and leave, but know it’s better if not too much time passes between all of this.

I’m trying to find a new Molly.

I will not suppress myself for the sake of others.

I will not let shame guide me.

I repeat two of my favorite mantras, take a deep breath, and step into the hallway. I round the bend to the kitchen, and Dash glances up while pushing egg out of a pan onto a plate to join some bacon and bagels. There are two plates.

“I was just about to wake you. You need to eat. Made us breakfast.”

Guess he isn’t planning on dodging the conversation either. How grown-up of us.

He pulls a chair out for me. “How’s the knee?”

“I’ll be fine. Nothing a little arnica won’t sort. I can work today.”

He sits opposite. “You won’t be working today.”

“I can and I should,” I protest.

“They can manage.”

I go stiff. What in the hell kind of spiritual possession happened between now and the Dash from yesterday? Some ghost crawled into this man and has taken over, because he’s basically just suggested we both take a day off?

“I mean…” I slowly pick up my fork, not taking my gaze off him. “Ithink they can handle things. The sleigh is done, and we have enough hands.”

“Hank, Bobby, Georgie, Rhett, and Dylan are all here.”

While I was sleeping, Dash took care of business.

He takes a piece of bacon between his fingers, the same ones that brought me to places I’ve never been, and bites it. “I’ll go down there again after we eat.”

Oh.He’s not taking the day off.

I lower my eyes and pick up the buttered, toasted bagel. “Thanks for breakfast.”

His low voice practically vibrates through me. “So… about last night…”

I throw down my fork and cover my face with my hands. I don’t want him to see the flames burning on my cheeks. I should have known Dash wasn’t the type to go easy or understand the art of the segue. We could have eaten first, but no. Dash is a man who goes in for the kill. I swallow my food down into my churning belly then let out a groan.

“Hey…” He takes one of my hands off my face and laces our fingers. “Don’t be like that.”

I peek out from between my other hand’s fingers. “Yeah?”

“Neither of us should be embarrassed. That was…” He pauses to think. “Unforgettable.”

He stares at me with that completely impossible-to-read face, but his words…make me nervous, and I laugh, go to that awkward place where you make a joke because you aren’t ready for the truth yet. “So this means we won’t be pretending it never happened?”

He raises an eyebrow and gives me a half-smile. “Are you serious right now?”

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