Martinis & Moonlight (A Country Road Novel - Book 3) Read online

  Epic fail.

  Do people even say that anymore? Who even knows. Or cares.

  Realizing more sleep isn’t happening, I throw back my covers and stand from the bed. I should probably do some yoga. That’s good for me. I should work more on myself and not wallow in the fact that after Owen grabbed my arm, I faced him with a smile that would send a small child crying by the scariness of it, and he asked if I needed him to call me a cab. Talk about letdown.

  I declined the offer and walked away. The moment I reached the door, I turned. If he was still watching, I could smile—a real smile—and maybe all the flirtations and small awkward moments would mean something. If not, then it meant nothing and Owen Butler was just another single guy looking for a hookup where he could find it.

  I’m making coffee for one so, clearly, he wasn’t still standing there when I turned around. I’m not sure what I expected or what romanticized version of real life I had convinced myself of while I was in that ladies room, but I need to get over it. I’m here to help Dakota and take care of the girls. I’ve only been out of my relationship a few months. I need to be focused on me and not a guy.

  But, dammit if this guy isn’t worming his way into too many of my thoughts. Maybe I should try that dating app after all. What could it hurt? Maybe I’ll meet someone who will be just as good looking, just as frustrating, just as intriguing, and just as … whatever Owen is that has me in knots and making hot water instead of coffee because I can’t get my shit together.

  Yeah, a dating app can totally do all of that.

  Over the last few days, I’ve thought about the time I spent with Minnie at Country Road. She was easy to talk to, fun to flirt with, and looking at her isn’t exactly a burden. I don’t let women get to me. I don’t let them interest me as more than a passing thought and someone to have a little fun with and walk away, no strings attached. Minnesota Walker is not that kind of woman.

  No, Minnesota Walker is the kind of woman you take on dates, the kind of woman you want to make laugh, and the kind of woman who sees forever in a simple gesture. I saw the look in her eyes and knew our flirting and attraction was mutual. I’ve been kind of an ass to her since I met her; inappropriate comments are natural for me, but I mean no harm. I should probably tell her that but something happens when I talk to her. First, my dick thinks it’s go time and then I feel this need to just keep her talking.

  When she almost knocked herself out with that box the other day, having her in my arms was … well, it was fucking scary as shit. I didn’t hate it. I didn’t want to let go. I wanted to check her from head to toe and make sure she was okay. I wanted to hold her while she shook. And, I sure as fuck wanted to kiss her lips when she took the bottom one between her teeth.

  What the hell is up with all of that? I have no idea, but I don’t like it. It needs to stop. My dick needs to stop getting fucking hard every time I think of her and most definitely when I say her name.

  So, when she got up to use the restroom at Country Road and those girls came over to flirt with me, I let them. I knew if I didn’t, I’d offer to drive Minnie home. I’d offer to come inside and check her safety. I’d wake up in her bed.

  Instead, I sit here in my Jeep looking at the office and noting Jameson isn’t here. Of course he isn’t. He made the move this weekend. The one he’s been putting off for years and the one that solidified his future. I’m happy for him, for them. He and Ashton belong together. They’ve been dancing around each other and their feelings for years and it has been painful to watch.

  While I’m happy for my friends, I know that life isn’t for me. Forever and true love isn’t real for everyone. If I’ve learned anything from my parents, it’s that they’re broken. I’m a product of them and assume I’m broken, too. I’ll watch forever happen for those who deserve it and just push forward with my plans and what works for me.

  Why am I sitting here? Because the only woman I’ve thought of for days is sitting in that office. The one I didn’t even say goodbye to just a few nights ago. I should apologize. I should tell her I am a dick and that she shouldn’t flirt with me. I will tell her those things. She deserves that. I am a lot of things, but heartless isn’t one of them.

  As I open the door I can hear her voice. It’s strained, full of frustration, and laced with anger. The thought of Minnesota Walker angry and fired up is hot. Wrong thought, asshole.

  Three steps in the office and I note Minnie has her back to me, her cell phone to her ear. “I don’t have any intention of returning. I understand that, but it isn’t where I am now. Kent, I need you to hear me. That is not the life I want.” She must hear my presence because she turns quickly, her eyes wide in shock. “I have six weeks left of my leave; I’ll be submitting my official paperwork before then. Please do not call me again.”

  “Ya okay?”

  Minnie tosses her phone on her desk and throws herself in her chair, elbows on the desk, fingers massaging her temples. “Just peachy.”

  I walk next to her and, for some odd reason, squat down beside her. She doesn’t move, but I tug at her hands, forcing her to look at me. “Whose ass do I need to kick?”

  “You sure have a thing for asses.” Sarcasm. This I can work with.

  “Eh, what can I say, I’m an ass man. And a breast man. Oh, and legs. I’m an equal opportunity kind of guy.” I wink as I stand, but before I’m able to move, Minnie takes my hand.

  “Thanks. Sorry you had to witness that.”

  “Witness what?”

  The smile she gives me is real and for a minute I wonder what it’s like to make Minnesota Walker smile all the time. Does she have different smiles? I shouldn’t wonder those things. Those thoughts are what lead a man down the wrong path.

  “So, who’s Kent and why is he making you upset?”

  “Ugh, Kent is a dick. We worked together at my last job. And, unfortunately, he was also my boyfriend for the last three years.”

  “Ah, I see. Well, his loss.”

  “No kidding. I can’t believe I was with him. I was so wrapped up in his world I didn’t realize what a complete prick he is. He was calling because one of the firm’s clients is threatening to pull their account. Apparently, they aren’t fond of the way it’s being handled now that I’m gone.”

  “What did you do before you came here to make Jameson’s life easier and allow him to finally handle his personal life?”

  “Isn’t it fantastic? I’m so happy for them. Oh, I was a Senior Account Manager at a company in the city.”

  I let out a whistle and lean back in my chair. “Dang, no wonder you’re clearly too good for this job.”

  “I love this job. I really do. I love the life I have here. That’s what the firm, and Kent specifically, aren’t accepting. I originally only took a leave of absence, I didn’t put in my notice. I needed to make sure I had a backup plan. There was a lot leading up to my leaving but I didn’t want to make a hasty decision and just quit all together. They allowed me to take up to six months’ unpaid leave and I did. Now, I just have to decide if I’m going back, or if living here in Lexington is working for me.”

  “And? Is it?” I ask with a little hope in my tone.

  “It is. I’ve met some really great people. And, I feel like I’m starting to remember who I am, who I want to be.”

  No words are spoken for a few ticks and we just look at each other. My gaze moves to her lips and I wonder for the briefest moment why I haven’t kissed her yet. Why this woman affects me the way she does; what is it about her?

  “Um, so anyway. What’s going on? You dropping off some work for me?”

  “Huh?”

  “You’re here, so there must be something you needed.”

  “Oh, I was just heading home and thought I’d see how your door was. No problems?”

  Minnie smiles. “Nope, it’s working fine. Thanks again for helping with that.” She stands and walks to a file cabinet against the wall, tugging on the drawer with no luck in opening it. I can see fr
om my seat that the drawer is slightly crooked. It’s going to take two people to get it back on its tracks. I stand and walk over to where she’s unsuccessfully pushing the drawer.

  “It’s off the tracks. I’ll pull on this side, you push on that. We’ll get it on the tracks.”

  Together, we push and pull making little progress until suddenly, the drawer jerks open. I step aside and allow Minnie to thumb through the files until she finds one she wants and snags it from the drawer. I reach out to close the cabinet as she does the same. Only, I’m not fast enough and my fingers pay the price when the drawer slams closed.

  “Mother fuck…” Sonofabitch that hurt. I begin shaking my hand as if the movement will somehow stop the throbbing in my fingers. Tears prick at my eyes, the pain is so intense.

  “Oh, my God! Owen! Oh shit, I’m so sorry! Let me see.” I watch as she tosses the file in her hands toward a shelf before she takes my hand in hers. She begins examining my fingers closely and ever so gently, assessing my injury. I throw my head back and breathe in and out through my nose, trying to regulate my breathing and avoid speaking the long list of cuss words on the tip of my tongue. That hurt almost as bad as the time I smacked myself with the hammer.

  Minnie takes my fingers between her hands and adds a little pressure while massaging them. “Is that helping? I’m so sorry. I should get some ice.”

  “It’s fine,” I say gruffly. I don’t attempt to pull my hand from hers, but instead allow her to keep rubbing my hand, gently blowing on my fingers. “Why are you blowing on it? It’s not hot.”

  Minnie mumbles something under her breath but doesn’t stop touching me. Now her movements have slowed a little, though she still hasn’t let me go.

  “What was that, Minnesota?”

  “I said, ‘you are.’ Ugh, this is so embarrassing,” she sighs, letting go of my hand. Instead of letting her get away with that, I grab her hand. The shock on her face is evident as she looks at me, wide-eyed. I like this look on her. The element of surprise shows a little more of who Minnie is deep down.

  “You think I’m hot?” Like I can’t help myself, my tone teases and my brows wiggle.

  “Oh, shut up.” She attempts to pull away from me but I don’t let her. “You know you’re hot. All of you.” The hand not held by mine waves around expressively. “It’s really unfair to the women of this town. And flirtatious, the whole bunch of you. I mean, is that something they taught you in high school?” She looks up at me, her eyes bright and a smile on her face. “Is it? Something like How to give smoldering looks across a room 101? Who taught it? Mr. Casanova?”

  She does this weird eye twitch, an attempt to dramatically roll her eyes, I assume. It’s a fair attempt, but unsuccessful. Her embarrassment shows and I note that this woman—beautiful, sometimes shy, and sarcastic—is one that must render every grown man she encounters speechless by just being in their presence.

  “Nah, we didn’t need a class. I think we were all born with it. Something in the Lexington water.” We both laugh and I look down and realize I’m still holding her hand. I rub my thumb across her knuckles. A move she was just making herself, but mine has a completely different undertone.

  “I owe you an apology, Minnesota.”

  “For what? Making me tell you I think you’re hot? That’s all me but thanks.”

  “No, for not saying goodbye the other night at The Road. We were having fun and getting to know each other. I should’ve said goodbye. I should’ve made sure you made it home safely. I wasn’t a gentleman.”

  “Are you though?”

  “Am I what?” I ask as she takes a step closer to me, her eyes dancing with mischief.

  “A gentleman. I get the impression a gentleman isn’t exactly how one would describe you, Owen Butler,” she says, taking her hand from mine and running it up my arm. Slowly. “I think,” she pauses, “I think you’re a bad boy and exactly what I need right now.”

  Before I can process what she’s said, her lips are on mine. The hand that was just slowly making its way up my arm is now on my neck. Instinctively, I place my hands on her waist, pulling her closer to me. A perfect fit.

  I let her lead the kiss; this is her gig. Once her tongue traces my lips, I open slightly, giving her permission for whatever she wants to happen next. And, what Minnesota Walker wants next is to turn my world upside down.

  Both of her hands are now at the base of my head, running through my hair. Her head is tilted and her mouth devouring mine. The beat of my heart increases; a moan from the back of her throat vibrates across her tongue to mine, sending an immediate reaction to my dick. My hands dip to that ass I have lusted after for weeks. Adding a little pressure, she molds to me, a perfect fit. The kiss goes on for what feels like forever but still not long enough.

  When Minnie pulls back from me, her face is flush and her lips swollen like they’d just been mouth fucked. And they were. Those same lips curve into a smile and, without another word, Minnie walks away from me and sits back down in her chair.

  “Min,” I begin, but before I can say her full name the office phone rings and she answers. I stand waiting for her to finish her call, but it’s obvious this won’t be a quick call. I jot down a note telling her I’ll call her later. She simply nods in response and turns her attention back to the caller.

  Once I’m back in my Jeep, I finally have my bearings and start laughing. That was unexpected. And can never happen again. Or should absolutely happen again. Who am I kidding? Left alone with that woman and it’s going to happen again.

  “You didn’t?”

  “I did. I have no idea what came over me. It was like some weird compulsion, Dakota! I couldn’t stop myself. I was a complete slut.”

  Dakota is enjoying this far too much. I bury my head in my hands at her dramatic laughing. It’s excessive and, quite frankly, a little insulting. This is my life she’s laughing at. I have no idea what possessed me to kiss Owen. Maybe that’s it, maybe I was possessed. Yes, like that movie The Exorcist. Except I’m not that lucky. I think it was just me being impulsive and sick of dreaming of those lips and needing to taste them.

  I’ve never done anything like that in my life. I’m careful. I am calculated. I don’t walk around just kissing random guys and especially not guys I work with. Or manwhores. Yeah, I really don’t do that. Honestly, the only man I’ve kissed since I was twenty-two years old is Kent and those kisses … well, they were nothing like what I experienced today.

  I’ve heard the rumors. The gals at the salon where I went for a quick trim last week were more than happy to tell me all about the single men in this town, Owen included. If the rumors are true, Jameson, Owen, and Landon have been quite busy entertaining the ladies in this town. While the majority of women have hoped to be the one to take Jameson off the market, Owen hasn’t fared too poorly. Now that Jameson has taken himself off the market, Owen is sure to move up to commodity numero uno.

  And, I had to kiss him. Not just kiss him but first maim him and then devour his mouth like it was a damn ice cream cone. With hot fudge. That’s what his kiss was like. The most decadent ice cream dripping with sinful hot fudge.

  “Are you done laughing? I’m so glad my humiliation could offer you entertainment this evening. Just you wait, sister of mine. Your day will come that you do something completely ridiculous and I’ll be there to laugh at you.”

  “Oh, Min, stop being such a baby. It’s hilarious. You jumped him. Well, after you practically broke his hand. It’s so unlike …”

  “Say it. It’s so unlike the person I’ve been the last few years. Yeah, I agree. Can I admit something that you’ll forget as soon as we hang up?”

  “Of course, sister vault.”

  “I kind of dream of him at night. And it was like I couldn’t help myself. He was standing there, holding my hand, and just smelling so much like … a man. Dakota, he smells like a man. I don’t even know what the scent is. Like if he was a candle it would just be labeled ‘scent of a man.’”
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br />   “Oh man, you’ve got it bad. I love it! What’s next? Seduction? Are you going to invite him over, play coy, and then lure him to your den of sin?”

  “Uh, your children live here, in case you forgot? There is no den of anything other than maybe blocks and Barbies.”

  “True. Those little cockblockers,” she teases before breaking out in more laughter.

  “Anyway, enough of my pathetic life. Which, by the way, is going to be worse because Jameson is taking some days off over the next few weeks and I’ll have to work more closely with Owen. You can feel free to kill me now.”

  The call I took after I successfully made a fool of myself was Jameson. He wanted to make sure I’d be around since he plans on spending a few long weekends at his lake property, which is great for him but sucks a bit for me. That means, Owen and I will be left to run Strauss Construction. That would have been fine until about five hours ago, when I became possessed by a demon.

  “So, Dakota, tell me how the transition is going? How are you feeling?”

  Last week, Dakota transitioned out of the in-patient facility to a private outpatient home that will focus more on her physical therapy and widows group. This is the first step to her coming home and while from here, through the screen, I can see a tremendous change in her attitude and physical health, I’m still worried for her.

  “I’m feeling really good. The PT is a bitch and I’m in a bit of pain after but that’s to be expected. I’ve made a few friends in group so that’s nice.” She sounds like she’s reading off items from a grocery list. But, at least she’s talking about it. “I,” she pauses, “I still haven’t talked much about the accident.” I wait for her to continue. The look on her face tells me she’s thinking more than deciding what to say next. “My counselor has, as he called it, ‘expressed concern’ that if I don’t talk about it soon, I’ll just continue to Band-Aid the emotion and one day just lose my shit.”