“Lincoln seems so…intense.” Not in the way Hawk came off with his don’t talk or fuck with me face. “He just doesn’t seem like the kind of guy you’d date.”
Desiree liked guys who were all about having fun and getting it on. For Desiree that worked.
If Lucky ever put herself out there, she’d want something more intimate. A real connection. Someone she could let her guard down with and have a real conversation. Like she did with Hawk, even if she was too skittish to dare to ask for more than the letters they left for each other at his house when she cleaned for him.
Never going to happen, but a girl could dream.
Desiree’s lips dropped into a pout. “All the guys I’ve dated suck. So why not go for someone different? He’s older, more mature, rich, handsome, owns multiple businesses, and drives anew Range Rover. He built that amazing house on his family’s land.”
Town gossip said it was stunning. All stone and wood with towering windows to take in the breathtaking Montana views.
But nowhere in Desiree’s list of things that Lincoln brought to the table did she say anything about his personality. Because she didn’t know him. She knew his reputation as a ladies’ man and business owner, most of which was just gossip from the rumor mill and heavily embellished stories from his exes.
Those Gunn guys couldn’t be as good in bed as the stories proclaimed.
Or maybe they were, because those stories were really flattering.
What did she know about really great sex? Her last boyfriend took her virginity at seventeen with kindness and care, then drugged her family, killed them, and went to jail where he killed another man. The only orgasm she’d ever had came from her own hand or her buzzy little friend.
She didn’t want to think about how sad and pathetic that was right now. Or the fact that Neil was out of prison already because of police mishandling evidence, leading to Neil only serving time for lesser drug charges. He’d plead self-defense in the death of a fellow inmate who Neil claimed attacked him first. He’d gotten off on that, too. The asshole was living with his family one town over. Way too close for comfort.
The justice system let her down again and again.
“You’ve got that look on your face again. We are not going down Memory Lane. Stop thinking about the past and get drunk. Be a normal twenty-something. It’s Friday night. We’re supposed to be having fun.” Desiree waved a waitress over. “Two double shots of vodka.”
The waitress nodded and headed to the bar to retrieve some of the best of what Gunn Brothers Distillery had to offer.
She tried to distract Desiree. “Aren’t you going to take your shot with Lincoln?”
Desiree glanced up at the bar where Lincoln was entertaining three ladies as he poured their drinks. “He looks a little busy.”
“You could distract him.” She winked at her friend, trying to be encouraging and not the Scrooge at the party. She’d seen Desiree stop men in their tracks just by walking past them. She had the kind of sex appeal that turned heads, for both men and women. “You’re so…sultry. He won’t be able to take his eyes off you.” She hoped pumping her friend up would keep her in a good mood.
At first, Desiree eyed her. “And all the guys in here with protective streaks take one look at your sweet, angelic, little broken bird face and all they want to do is wrap you in their arms and take care of you.” Strange how it sounded like pity coming out of Desiree’s mouth, with a hint of anger and…jealousy? No. Couldn’t be. Next to Desiree, Lucky was just…plain.
Everyone saw it.
Lucky, despite her name, did not lead a charmed life. Anything but. After her family was murdered, she’d taken over her mother’s house cleaning business so she had an income and the women her mother employed didn’t lose their jobs. Traumatized by what happened, she’d decided to stay in town instead of going off to college alone.
But you feel alone here, too.
She was so busy just getting through each day that she’d forgotten to ask herself what more she wanted.
She patted the purse at her hip where she’d tucked the note Hawk had left her in the book he thought she’d enjoy. It was something she’d started with him a couple years ago, when she realized he loved books as much as she did and used them to escape into another world. He used to read nothing but thrillers and suspense. She’d left him a romance where the military hero comes home, overcomes his physical and emotional traumas,and finds love and a whole new life. She wanted him to see that it could happen for him.
Everyone deserved a happy ever after.
Today he’d left her an urban fantasy about witches with a note she’d reread so many times she’d memorized it.
When I come home on the days you’ve been at my house, it feels like you’ve walked in, waved a wand, and made the whole place, not just clean, but feel better. It’s like you leave a piece of yourself here and it’s comforting.
This witch heals the hero in more ways than one.
I think you’ve done a little of that for me.
Thank you. H
She didn’t know why she felt so connected to him. Maybe because they carried things that still ached inside them and always would.
