He’s moved one minute. Then he gives me a look the next. “Slow on the—?”
“I’ll need to fetch my phone from my satchel, which I left in your truck. Or rather, which you left in your truck, after stealing that jockstrap out of it.” I rise from the couch and take my mug of coffee Jo left me. “I’m gonna make a phone call.”
He rises off the couch, too. “Phone call?”
“Yep. I need to adjust a few things. You know …” I stop at the door and face him. “Postpone my flight a few days. Or the rest of the week. We’ll see.”
Chad’s eyes go wide. He looks so adorably clueless, standing there in his boxer-briefs and staring after me.
“Wait a sec,” he finally says, lifting a hand. “You mean …”
“Yep.” I take a sip from my coffee.
“You were serious last night? About staying longer?”
I chuckle. “You thought I was kidding?”
“Of course I thought your ass was kidding. I thought you were just high off the sex, sayin’ crazy things, and would come to your senses in the morning.”
“I was definitely high off the sex. I might still be high off the sex. Who knows. But here I am, and I’ve got all my senses. And also some damn good coffee.” I take another sip, then smile. “And I’m postponing my flight so I can stay here and pester you for a few days longer. Maybe even a whole week. How’s that sound, Chad? You look a bit … struck speechless.”
“Even after everything?” He comes up to me. “Even still—?”
“After what? After learning about your ex-wife? After we had sex and I finally learned—after ten years—what it’s like to bang Chad Landry?” I lean in toward his face. Chad’s eyes drop to my lips. “After you go on with all that deep, philosophical talk at the Evans’s about stars and infinity and doors closing?” I kiss him on the lips. It tastes so sweet. “Yeah, I think I’d like to stay here a little longer. I mean, only if the implied invitation is still extended.”
Chad studies my face. After the shock wears off, a glint of mischief enters his eyes, and his whole tone changes. “So you think I’m just gonna let you stay here for free, then?”
I close my lips.
Uh, what …?
“I mean, that’s a bit presumptuous, ain’t it?” Chad crosses his arms and leans against the door, effectively blocking my way out. “To assume I’ll just … oh, I don’t know … let you stay here in my lovely little guesthouse, which you think is half a pigsty?”
My back straightens indignantly. “I never said it was—!”
“And what about Virginia’s feelings, huh? Is the Spur Inn not good enough for ya? I mean, didn’t she offer you to stay there free-of-charge a few more days? Shoot, and you’re gonna turn that offer down to stay here on my ranch with dirty ol’ rancher me?”
He’s clearly having a lot of fun with this.
I quirk an eyebrow. “How’d you know about Virginia’s offer?”
“You talk a lot when you’re tipsy. And you were plenty tipsy last night.” He snorts and shakes his head, amused. “Boy, you got a lot of nerve in them bones of yours.”
I smirk. “I’ve heard that before.”
“Speaking of nerve: what exactly did Jo tell you that she said not to tell me?”
Now that’s an abrupt shift in topic. “That’s between me and her.”
He stares at me incredulously. “‘Between me and her’ …? What’s that? You and my ex-wife are keepin’ secrets now?”
“Didn’t I just say we’re best friends?”
His face creases with determination. “Jo said somethin’ about a ‘success’ she had, a ‘success’ she told you to say nothin’ about to me. What’s this ‘success’? Is it to do with On-The-Go Girl?”
I’ll presume that’s the name of her beauty product business. “I don’t kiss and tell, Chaddy.”
He frowns. “Don’t you start callin’ me that. C’mon. Tell me.”
“Hmm, okay. You wanna be pushy?” I set my coffee down on the counter, then come right up to him. We’re nearly face to face. “Maybe I will go stay at the Spur Inn instead. All by myself. Hmm. That’s a tragedy, isn’t it? A pity …” I place a hand on his chest, then let it slowly slide down his front. Chad stiffens up. “I mean, if I have to stay over at the Spur Inn for the next few days … whose big fat dick are my lonely lips gonna suck on?”
Chad swallows. His throat tightens up. “Lance … All I wanted to know is what she—”
My hand reaches the waistband of his boxer-briefs.
He shuts right up.
“That’s a lot of dick I certainly won’t be sucking, all alone in my hotel room.” My fingers slip under the waistband. Chad’s lips part. “And who the hell are you going to wrestle if you need to sharpen your wrestling skills? A bull? A prairie dog? A poor chicken named Delilah Frankenstone?”