Mustang Sassy (13 page)

“I’d love to but we can’t. I got rid of my VCR a long time ago.” Libby pointed at her flat-screen television set and entertainment system. “Everything’s digital.”

Sass took in Libby’s new furniture and modern electronic equipment. Had she come into an inheritance that Sass wasn’t aware of?

“But if you’ve got your heart set on a movie, I’ve got lots to choose from.”

“No,” Sass said. Might as well get this over with. She forced herself to turn toward the dining room. “Just forget it and show me what you’ve got.”

Tugging on Sass’s elbow, Libby said, “Don’t worry. It’s all cool and I promise it won’t bite.”

Resigned, she followed Libby to the dining room table. Good Lord! Did people seriously use this shit? She circled the table, confused and terrified by the wealth of products. She glanced questioningly at Libby, wondering if she really knew her long-time friend at all.

“Okay. This one’s a favorite. It’s the Harvey Wall Banger.” Libby wet a suction cup on the back of an enormous dildo and, with one loud
thwack
, stuck it to her dining room wall. “It doesn’t take much imagination to see how you would use this one.”

“N-no.” In fact, the vision embedded in her brain told her there was no imagination involved at all. “What’s this?” She picked up something small and rubbery that had what appeared to be a headphone wire coming out of it.

“Oh, the butterfly. Good choice. That’s my number-one seller.”

“It looks like a baby pacifier, only…bigger.”

Laughing, Libby took it out of Sass’s hands. “Cute, isn’t it?”

“What’s it for?”

“Oh, it’s wonderful. You wear this in your underwear, and you can tuck this little control up into your pocket. Then you switch it on when you’re feeling the urge and…” She pressed the small control and the pacifier came to life, jiggling and jiving in the palm of her hand. “You definitely need one of these.”

Sass frowned. You wore it in your underwear? To work? Were people walking around having orgasms all day long? She scratched her head. “What I don’t get is what’s wrong with good old regular sex?”

“Absolutely nothing. In fact, many of the women who use these products report an increase in sexual satisfaction with their partners.”

Sass’s agitation was growing by the second. “Lib, you’ve done two home parties. Get real. That doesn’t exactly make you an expert in all this.”

By the hurt expression on her friend’s face, Sass had crossed a line.

“For your information, Miss Know-it-all, I sell these products all the time. In fact, I earn enough that I could quit my day job if I wanted.”

“What?” Was she supposed to believe the residents of Greenview were all walking around with butterflies in their pants and Harvey suctioned to their bedroom walls? “How is that possible?”

“The Internet. I make a fortune selling sex toys on the Internet. The only reason I still have my job at the drugstore is to get out of the house and interact with people.”

“No way.”

“It’s true.”

“People really buy this stuff?”

“All the time. Every day. And, once you make a name for yourself, you wouldn’t believe the repeat customers. How do you think I pay for my tropical vacations every year? Drugstore tips?”

Sass considered her friend in open-mouthed disbelief. Finally she said, “Really?”

“Yes. Really.”

“God, Lib. I’m sorry I’m being so shitty. I really have…this is all…foreign to me.”

“Listen,” Libby said, smiling in a manner that was in no way condescending. “Let me make up a care pack for you. Nothing outrageous, just some of my most useful and best-selling devices and products. They come with instructions so you can figure them out for yourself. How does that sound?”

“Yeah. Sure. Fine.” Sass chewed her thumb. “How much do I owe you?”

“Nothing. Consider it a belated birthday present.”

She looked up, surprised. “How’d you know?”

Libby made a weird face as she packed up the “toys.”

“Of course I know when your birthday is, though it’s been a long time since you’ve celebrated properly.”

Sass accepted the care package without argument, thinking about how inappropriately she’d celebrated her birthday this year, with a tire iron. The year before, she’d stayed home and watched horror movies, one right after the other. The year before that what had she done? Oh yeah. She’d gone to the shooting range. The one before that, she’d gone out to the cabin to lie on the deck and look up at the stars.

The year before that she’d lost her virginity.

What was it about her birthday that always made her sad or do stuff she later regretted?

…

Checking herself out in the mirror, Sass groaned in frustration. This was ridiculous. She had no idea how to prepare for a date. She’d showered and combed her hair. She had no hair products of her own, so she added a little of Buck’s pomade. But now her hair smelled like Buck—which was too weird. She started applying makeup but then thought she’d overdone it so she washed it off again. No sense giving City-boy the wrong impression. The nerves were killing her and unfortunately when she got nervous she had the habit of feeling pissed off. She couldn’t help it.

Okay, Sass. Get a grip.

She wasn’t out to impress Jordan Michaels, and she definitely wasn’t going to sleep with him again. Not tonight. Not anymore. Thanks to Libby, she wouldn’t even be tempted. She had a secret weapon buried deep in her pants, and the minute she felt anything remotely resembling desire, she’d just switch on her butterfly and relieve the pressure herself. No more propositions, no more jumping Jordan’s bones. Just dinner. A pleasant, average, I’ve-got-a-sex-toy-hidden-in-my-underwear dinner.

Normal.

Perfectly sane.

Yeah, right.

Chapter Ten

Jordan didn’t know the last time he’d felt so relaxed and at peace. It was unseasonably warm for September and he’d spent the majority of it down by the beach, swimming, sketching, and drinking the odd cool one. If it wasn’t for the pending dinner engagement, the day would have been perfect. He wasn’t quite sure how it was possible to dread and look forward to the same event. The only thing that was keeping him sane was his promise to himself. No more sex with Sass. Period. Not because he didn’t want to. Oh, no. Because he wanted to
way
too much. All in all¸ it would be a good exercise in self-control. Kind of like his fight with Carlos the other day.

Jordan gingerly touched his eye. Yep, still swollen and still sore. Thank God his brothers weren’t around to razz him about that. But just like that old Kenny Roger’s song his mom loved so much, “The Coward of the County,” there was a time to fight and a time for restraint. Monday had definitely been a time for restraint, and, if he could keep himself from kicking Carlos’s scrawny ass, he could keep his hands off Sass.

The steady growl of the ’Vette’s engine and the
crunch
of gravel on the driveway alerted Jordan to Sass’s arrival. Playing it cool, he sat out on the deck with a beer at hand and a book open in front of him.

Thirty second later she rounded the corner looking sexy as hell. She wore old jeans cut off at the knee, showing off her toned calves and skater shoes without socks. Her shirt was a simple white tank that complemented her tan. Still no bra and the hint of her rosebud nipples nudged against the material. Despite his vow, his cock took notice.

“I brought pie,” she said. Her voice was kind of hesitant like she wasn’t sure what to do with it.

“Thanks. Just put it on the counter and grab yourself a beer. I want to hear how the car’s coming.” Okay. This was awkward. It was her place yet they were both acting like it was his.

Once she was seated beside him, sipping her own Miller Genuine Draft, she seemed to relax.

“The car might take a bit longer than expected,” she said quietly.

“Oh?”

“Yeah. The whole thing needs to be sanded down, and then we’ll knock out some of the dents and fill. By the time we’ve repainted it’ll be better than before.”

Jordan’s stomach dropped. Shit. That was a lot of work. If his father ever found out…okay, he didn’t want to think about the repercussions.

“All that is doable in a little over a week. It’s the three hubs and the front grille that are the real problem.”

“Problem?”

“They’re beyond repair and our supplier just called and said they won’t come in for three weeks.”

“Three weeks?” His voice was much too loud. Jordan had to remind himself of his plan to show restraint, but the fact of the matter was that he had to get the car back before then. Shit!

“Maybe you want to just go back to Denver.” Sass picked at a thread on her chopped jeans.

Jordan shook his head. Going back to Denver without the car was not an option.

“I’m really sorry, Jordan.” Her voice was so low he could barely hear her.

Taking a deep breath and a long drink, Jordan said, “It’s okay. It’s not your fault.”

She looked at him funny. “Yes it is.”

So, that’s what she did at Hogan’s. She ordered parts. Probably did the books too, payroll maybe—like him. Whereas he had no say at Carlyle’s she probably ordered everyone around. He respected a girl who took her job so seriously. “Okay. So it’s your fault.” He nudged her foot playfully. “I’ll manage as long as you don’t mind having a houseguest for a few more weeks?”

She studied him closely, frowning and blinking rapidly. Then she said quickly, “Sure, no problem. Stay as long as you want.”

“Great.” Jordan stood to take his empty bottle inside and get dinner on the grill. “I hope steaks are okay?”

“Fine.”

“How do you like yours?”

Sass shrugged. “I don’t know. Cooked?”

Jordan laughed as the door banged shut behind him.

While he grilled steaks, Sass sat on a bench in the farthest corner of the deck and watched.

“Do you need help?”

“No.”

That was all she said until the food was ready and on the table. Once she started eating, she had even less to say. If that was her way to avoid conversation, it was fine with him. The less he knew about her, the better.

“This is so good.”

“Thanks.”

“How did you do these?” She held up some grilled red peppers and carrots with her fork.

“You just toss them with olive oil and seasoning and throw them on the grill in a pie plate. The potatoes are just cut up with garlic and butter and wrapped in foil. It’s easy.”

“But it tastes
so
good.”

“I’m glad you like it.”

She smiled. Then her expression changed, and she dug into her food with even more gusto.

“So, it’s just you and your dad then?” Jordan asked, deciding he liked conversation with her better than awkward silence.

“Yep.”

“Where’s your—”

“She died. Car accident.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.”

Sass shrugged.

“When did it happen?”

With her head down, she just kept jamming food into her face. “Long time ago. My sixth birthday, actually.”

“God,” Jordan couldn’t imagine what his life would have been like growing up without his mother, his only ally. “You must miss her.”

Shrugging, she said, “I don’t know. Hard to miss someone you don’t really remember.”

“And Buck? Is he off at a rally somewhere?”

“Nah,” Sass said with her mouth full. “He’s on a cruise in the Caribbean.”

“Really?” Somehow he had a hard time picturing Buck Hogan on a cruise. Not that he’d ever met him, but given Sass’s personality, a cruise and a Hogan just didn’t go together.

Setting down her fork and knife, Sass said, “I don’t know what’s wrong with him. It’s the third cruise this year. It’s like he’s going through a late midlife crisis.” She grinned, but he could see something dark in her eyes. It looked like worry. “Most guys just buy themselves that hot rod they’ve always wanted.” She shrugged. “But Buck’s always had nice cars. So I guess this is his way to rebel.” She took a sip of beer and then resumed cutting another piece of meat. “Weird way to rebel if you ask me.”

It was obvious she was worried about her father and listening to her only served to remind Jordan that the woman seated across from him was off-limits. He would not give in to whatever it was that was between them. Not again.

That didn’t mean he couldn’t watch her. There was something refreshing about the way she consumed her food. Maybe because she didn’t care. She simply enjoyed herself and didn’t sit there picking at the meal, worried that one more bite might add another pound to her hips, like Lecia, his ex. Although, with Sass’s slight figure, she certainly didn’t need to worry about her weight, she…

“Why’re you staring at me?”

“Huh?”

“You’re watching me instead of eating. Why?”

“Sorry.” Jordan chuckled, “I didn’t mean to. It just seems like you’re enjoying your food and I—”

“This isn’t a date, Michaels, and I’m not having sex with you, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

Her candor was so unexpected, he almost asked, “Why not?” But he stopped himself because he’d been trying to convince himself of the very same thing. “That wasn’t what I was thinking.”
Liar!

She watched him warily while she chewed. “Just so we’re clear. I don’t date. We’re
just
having dinner, okay?”

“You don’t date? What do you mean, you don’t date?”

She swallowed her food and chased it with the beer. “Does that statement really require an explanation? Seriously, Michaels. Don’t you find the whole scene just so…stupid?”

“Sometimes, I guess.” He thought of the last couple of dates he’d gone on. Total failures. “But, if you don’t date, how do you meet men?”

“I only go out with guys I already know.” She started to tap her leg under the table. “One day we’re friends, you know, buddies, and then the next day we decide to take it further.” She shrugged. “That’s how it always goes for me.”

“So, what are we?”

Now Sass was tapping her fork against her plate like it was a snare drum.

“Are we buddies, Sass?” He was goading her, but he couldn’t help it. There was something about her nervous energy that spoke to him on a hormonal level.