The Care and Feeding of an Alpha Male (Bluebonnet #2)(21)
Author: Jessica Clare

That sounded like her car. Beth Ann’s heart began to thud rapidly, and she felt her n**ples grow tight. Colt. Oh.

She’d been thinking about him nonstop since they’d parted. So she was kind of not doing so hot with the “no strings attached one night stand” sort of thing. She wanted to see him again. Of course she couldn’t ask. She’d been the one insisting that it be a brief, meaningless fling. It wasn’t his fault that he’d been so flat-out amazing in bed that she was craving more. She was a junkie. A Colt junkie. How silly.

But she still found herself pushing past Allan to step out the front door of her salon, straightening her hair and smoothing her skirt. She smiled in delight at the sight of her green VW, shining and clean.

Colt stood up from the driver’s side and grinned at her. “Hey, darlin’.”

“Hey,” she said breathlessly, feeling like a teenager. “You brought my car. Thank you.”

“Got it all cleaned up for you.” He shut the door and began to stroll toward her, his hands in his pockets, and she felt a little thrill at the sight of him. His white shirt was tight across his pectorals and tucked neatly into his dark green BDUs. She could almost make out his dog tags underneath, and remembered them smacking her in the cheek as he’d been deep inside her.

Warmth flushed through her body at the thought. “You’re a good man,” she said softly, and was rewarded with a flash of his dimple as he approached.

“The best,” he said in a low, husky voice.

Oh mercy, he was sexy. Her n**ples pricked and she smiled widely at him, her cheeks hot with excitement. She was glad she’d dressed pretty today, in a light blue dress with a full skirt that swished at her knees. Feminine. She looked her best. And he was smiling at her. And maybe he’d want to see her again. That dimple gave her hope.

“Beth Ann?” called Allan from behind her.

She gritted her teeth, crossing her arms over her chest in frustration. The playful, sensual look on Colt’s face had disappeared, replaced by intense dislike.

“I can see this is a bad time,” Colt drawled.

“It’s not,” she said hastily. “I assure you. I—”

“Bethy-babe,” Allan said, coming up behind her and putting his arm around her waist. “We need to go if we’re going to make those reservations.”

As she watched, Colt’s eyes narrowed to slits. Just like that, Allan was going to ruin her hopes with Colt. He was going to shove his way in and make Colt think that she was with him. And the thought horrified her.

She had to do something.

“No,” she said, stepping away from Allan, her gaze on Colt for a moment longer before turning to frown at Allan. “I told you, I’m not going out with you. You shouldn’t have made reservations without asking me first. I’m too tired to go out.”

Allan gave her a wounded look, as if she’d crushed him. She was very familiar with that look. Whenever she did something that didn’t please him, she got the hurt stare. As if she were the unreasonable one.

Colt was watching the two of them closely. Beth Ann kept her arms crossed over her chest, her chin firm. Allan had to learn.

“Bethy-babe,” he began.

“Allan, please,” she said in exasperation.

“There a problem?” Colt asked, stepping toward her. He gave another menacing look to Allan.

“No problem,” Beth Ann said pointedly. “Allan was just leaving.”

Allan hesitated, gave her another wounded flash, and then raised his phone and shook it. “I’ll call you tomorrow. We need to talk.”

“No, we don’t,” she said, but he’d already turned away and was getting into his car.

She remained frozen in place until he drove away, and then she exhaled, furious.

“You okay?” Colt asked.

“As soon as I punch something, yes,” she said lightly.

Colt gave a wry snort and glanced back in the direction of where Allan had left. “You guys broke up, huh?”

“Ten months ago. He can’t seem to get it through his head. For that matter, neither can half the town.” Was that bitter voice hers? “He’s driving me crazy.”

“He stalking you?” Colt’s voice was hard, unforgiving.

“Nothing as bad as that. He seems to think he can win me back, and that it’s just a matter of time.” She shook her head. “I’m sorry. This looks horrible, doesn’t it? Trust is so important and here I am looking like I’m two-timing.”

“Can’t two-time if it’s a one-night stand,” he said slowly.

She flinched. Ouch. “You’re right. How silly of me.”

“Wasn’t meaning to offend you,” he said. “Just stating a fact.”

“Well, thanks for dropping off my car,” she bit out. “It was real nice of you.”

He stepped a bit closer to her, and she could smell campfire smoke on him. He’d had a class today then? He smelled like their weekend together. God, she hadn’t realized how smoke could smell so erotic.

“I’m doing this all wrong, aren’t I?” he said softly. He took her hand in his. “I didn’t come here to drop off your car. I came here to give you these.”

He pressed her panties into her hand.

“Oh.” A hot blush covered her face and she reached into the front of her dress and hastily shoved the panties into her bra. “Thank you.”

He was so close that she could see that miniscule curve of his mouth, as if he were about to smile.

She waited for a minute. This was so oddly tense and awkward. They hadn’t been tense together when they were together. It was this bizarre in-between state that they weren’t handling very well. She looked down at her keys, then back at her car. “You need a ride?”

“Nah. Dane’s over at the library to harass Miranda for a few minutes. He’s giving me a ride back to the ranch.”

“I see.”

“And you’re not with that douche bag?” he asked abruptly.

Oh. “I’m not with anybody,” she answered honestly, peeking up at him through her eyelashes.

“Good,” he said and the word was husky and made her panties wet all over again. “You want to go out?”

“When?” She sounded breathless, even to her own ears.

“This weekend? I have an overnight trip for the next few days. ROTC team-building exercise. But then I’m free this weekend.”

“I work on Saturday until three,” she said, smiling back at him. “I’m free after that.”

“Saturday night, then? Dinner? I can pick you up here.”

“Sounds good.”

“Good.”

He stared at her for a moment longer, then gave her that crisp, military nod. “See you then.”

“Okay.”

He turned away, took two steps toward the street, then turned back to her. Before she could ask if anything was wrong, he put his hands on the sides of her neck and pulled her in for a hard, fierce kiss.

Her mouth had barely parted under his when he pulled back slightly and licked at her lips, eliciting a moan from her.

“Saturday. If you want, you can leave those at my place again,” he said, and nodded at the panties.

“Rascal,” she said with a laugh.

He winked at her and then headed down the street.

NINE

The week passed incredibly slowly at times. Miranda had dropped by to have lunch one day, but Beth Ann hadn’t brought herself to confess her fling with Colt just yet. She wanted to see how the date on Saturday was going to go. After all, there was no point in talking it up if they didn’t go out again, right? And she didn’t want Miranda getting her hopes up for Beth Ann and Colt being together.

Because hey, Beth Ann’s hopes were up already. No sense in disappointing two people if it didn’t work out.

She liked Colt. She trusted him—so far. And he was amazing in bed. So yeah, her hopes were up, just a little.

Mrs. Potter hadn’t come in for her Saturday appointment after all. Neither had another one of her Saturdays. The salon down the street still didn’t have a permanent sign, but she’d strolled past the window to read the one taped up on the glass. It was a list of services offered—waxes, perms, highlights, blowouts, everything that Beth Ann offered. And she was charging three times as much. Beth Ann had gaped, even more so when she’d noticed the small salon had people waiting.

Was Bluebonnet big enough for two salons? She didn’t know. Either way, it made her stomach gnaw with nervousness. Her business had to succeed. Had to. She was never going back to being the stay-at-home “little woman” ever again.

She’d stayed in her salon every night that week. Her mother protested once, but then she’d asked Beth Ann to pick up her dry cleaning while she was in town. Naturally. Jeanette didn’t care what Beth Ann did as long as it didn’t inconvenience Jeanette. So Beth Ann took a larger stack of her clothes to the salon that week and vowed to get an apartment just as soon as she could afford it. She dropped by her parents’ house to shower, but other than that, she kept to her salon.

And every night, in the back of the salon on her air mattress, she masturbated, thinking about Colt. Yet another reason to be glad for her privacy. She couldn’t wait for their date. It was stupid to be so excited—it could be totally wrong and awkward and they’d part ways and never speak again. They’d go back to adversaries, actively disliking each other.

Or they might hit it off and spend the evening making love.

She decided to get waxed, just in case. Instead of a Brazilian, she went totally nude. The sensation was erotic—her p**sy felt bare and soft and everything brushed up against her skin.

She couldn’t wait to see the look on Colt’s face when he noticed. And she flushed at the thought.

On Saturday night, she took care with her hair, blowing it out so it’d fall perfectly down her back. Her nails were a pale pink, the signature heart carefully placed on the fourth finger of each hand and foot. She’d decided on a tight black sweater with short sleeves and a high collar, and a flowing, short red gauze skirt and black peep-toe heels. It was a little bold for a night out in Bluebonnet, but that was why she liked it. She’d worn black lacy lingerie and garters underneath, too. Just in case.

And she really, really hoped for that just in case.

“You look very pretty today,” Mrs. Doolittle told her as Beth Ann arranged her soft, white curls.

She smiled at Mrs. D—her last appointment of the day. “Thank you. I just thought I’d dress up today.”

“You going out with that nice Allan Sunquist tonight?”

Beth Ann’s face fell. “We’re not going out anymore, Mrs. D. I’m seeing someone else now.”

“Such a shame,” Mrs. D said, and shook her head, ruining Beth Ann’s careful arranging.

“Not a shame, honey,” Beth Ann said lightly. “You remember Colt Waggoner?”

“One of those white-trash Waggoner boys?” The old woman harrumphed. “He came back with that lewd hockey player, didn’t he?”