The Stars in the Sky (Giving You ... #2) (5 page)

Arguing Plus Benefits

"NO."

The word was out of my mouth before I could articulate the reason why I didn't want Will to kiss me. The truth was, I wanted to kiss him, I wanted to explore that sensual mouth, get up close and personal, again, with the body I had slammed into when I first met him. I wanted to do more than kiss him. I wanted to feel every inch of his huge, hard body and I wanted him to satisfy the parts of me that tingled when I thought about him. I was suffering from withdrawal from not touching him, even though I'd just met him. Guess this is what happened when you met a man while he was naked.

But still,
no
on the kiss. Or, as I thought more about it, perhaps
hell no
.

His eye twitched. "What do you mean, no?" He paused, and then he smiled a sexy half smile. "So you'll kiss me anyway, even if I still call you names?" Now I was seeing a new side to him: Playful Will. I liked Playful Will as much, or more, as Naughty Sense of Humor Will and Mischievous Will. It balanced out Asshole Will and Conservative Will, and was intriguing. But no.

"No. You're my boss." There, a concrete reason percolated to the surface of my brain and came out of my mouth.

And threw cold water on everything, because I might be a party girl but I wasn’t stupid and I was not going to throw away a job that I really wanted for a guy no matter how handsome he was.

"I'm not your boss," he said immediately and resolutely.

Now it was my turn to twitch. "How's that?"

"Your checks are signed by the Headlands Program, not the Ranch. I run the Ranch. Janine is your boss. Not me. You're just living on my land for the summer. The nonprofit has a separate board of directors from my family trust, provides its own staffing, and I donate the space, animals, and supplies."

Well, that cleared one hurdle.

I wondered why I threw so many hurdles up if there was no way in hell I’d ever be with a Republican.

But still, the answer was no kissing, and I thought of more reasons why. "You chew."

"So?"

"It's disgusting."

He stared at me and gave me a sort of chin lift. "What else you got?"

The big one. The sin. The crime—at least in my way of thinking.

"You're a Republican. I have never, to my knowledge, ever kissed a Republican."

His grin was now a full smile, not a half smile, and honestly, it was dazzling, like before. "Let's try this. I'll give you a choice. We can continue arguing politics all summer—and I think we're a match for each other and I'm looking forward to the arguments, darlin'—and I don't lay a hand on you. Or, we can continue arguing politics all summer, but I can fuck your hot body whenever you want. Which do you pick?"

I spasmed. His phone rang.

"'lo?" He strolled off to the side to take his call, his hand in his pocket, and I patted Trixie, who had come up around my legs.

I wouldn't have guessed that this was the way that my summer adventure was going to happen. Still, I was wildly amused and turned on, but simultaneously repelled. Decisions, decisions.

I'd just met the guy yesterday, but it wasn't like I'd never had a one-night stand before. I could be a bit wild. Well,
total party girl
might be a better description of me. But this was potentially more than a one-night stand. It could be for the summer, and frankly, that sounded like fun. Although I didn't need all the bickering that was destined to occur.

As I thought about it, however, I knew that if things didn't go well with him, I’d have to avoid him for months and that could be awkward, especially if I knew how he was in bed.

Yum, Will in bed.

But things were already awkward. I’d already had a preview of his body and it was spectacular. I wasn't avoiding him because I had seen him naked. Quite the opposite, actually.

So, what to do? I was definitely attracted to him and he was definitely my opposite. I felt pulled to him and pushed away at the same time.

He was nothing like the guys I’d dated before, who’d been mostly crunchy bohemian types, and a little feminine, honestly. Will was red meat man and I was a vegan. I really didn’t think that this would work.

And a small voice inside me said that I was scared that if it did work, I’d just have to leave him at the end of summer.

As I thought about it, though, we were already sniping at each other at every chance, so it was hard to see how things would get any worse. Maybe they'd get better.

I needed to know more before I made a decision.

He finished his call and walked back to me and Trixie, stepping just a little closer to me than societal conventions allowed. I felt him even though I didn’t touch him.

"How
Republican
, Republican are you?"

He leaned into me, his eyes amused, his voice low and certain. "Very."

This meant, as I suspected, that we disagreed on all the things.

Desperately wishing for a way to make this work, a flash of hope ran through me. Maybe we were just arguing semantics.

And I chided myself. How easily I considered setting aside my deeply-held beliefs just because of one hot man. What kind of feminist was I where my brain turned off because my body was turned on? Still, I needed to find out more.

"What do you think of women’s rights? Are you a feminist?"

All the other guys I’d dated said they were. They might have said it to get me naked, but at least they’d said it.

He shook his head. Uh-oh. My stomach dropped and I felt disheartened. This was not acceptable. "Not really. Guys and girls are different. Treat 'em different. You gonna argue with me 'bout that?"

"Obviously."

He raised an eyebrow and gave me that devastating smile.

"Bring it on."

Ohmigod, I wanted him for real now, and I was pissed that he turned my brain to mush. I’m smarter than this. I stepped back, needing space from him and then I realized something. "Since you're not my boss, I can tell you, you're an ignorant dick for saying something like that. Women are still fighting for equal rights. The pay gap and the glass ceiling exist and we have to do something about them."

He smiled again and my fucking panties got wet. "And you're a commie pinko. What else you got?"

Seriously? "Commie pinko? What is this, 1969?"

A wicked look came over his face and he dropped his voice so low I felt it in my groin. "What's that about sixty-nine?"

Walked into that one. And then the idea of my mouth on Will with his mouth on me made me wetter.

No.

I couldn’t.

Or I could.

Gah.

"How old are you?" I finally asked, changing the subject.

"Thirty-four. You?"

"I'm thirty-two."

None of this was helping me to make a decision of whether to go after him. I needed to press him about his backwards thinking. But I also wanted his body pressing into mine.

He let me off the hook by saying, "Tell you what. I'll show you some more of the ranch and you can decide whether you want arguing or arguing plus benefits."

I didn't know if I could stay focused on the tour of the ranch, and judging by the way he had his hands shoved in the pockets of his jeans, neither could he.

Still, I knew that I couldn't take him up on it yet. I wanted to, badly, but no.

Maybe.

Hay

SOMETHING FLIP-FLOPPED DURING THE ride in the gas-guzzling, mega truck back to the Headlands Ranch compound. Instead of me asking Will questions and receiving one-word answers from him in response, he started asking me questions: about my family (my older brother, responsible, my younger sister, not), my school, my work, and my friends. And me being me, of course I talked a lot. Aside from his obvious good looks, there was something so attractive about this strong, mostly silent guy, taking an active interest in me, seeming to really listen, and asking follow up questions. This was probably because we were talking about safe topics, not politics or country music, which would have put us both into our default positions of protecting our belief systems. It was much better when we were being ourselves, without the political designations.

As we drove, I became acutely aware of the distance between us in the truck cab. He was so close, but not, since he wasn't touching me. I kept watching him—the muscles on his powerful thighs flexing as he moved his leg from the gas to the brake and back; his meaty biceps and forearms clenching as he shifted the car into drive and back into park; his flat belly moving as he spoke or took a breath; his dark eyes looking at me during the times that he tore his gaze away from the dirt road; his hewn jaw jerking if he found something I said amusing.

He drove me to a few other places on the ranch, which, size-wise was ridiculously large. I had no idea how many acres we saw. It seemed like his family owned half of California. He told me his dad had retired and left the operations to him. He employed office staff and a lot of workers, both seasonal and full-time. I saw the rangeland for the cattle, more of the orchards, and some of the fields of row crops. He also drove me to a section that had vineyards, and then to the Headlands Ranch winery. Apparently nearer to the highway, there was a small tasting room for the winery and he told me that he'd take me there to try the wine.

Could I potentially go there on a date there with Will? I liked that idea. A lot.

When we arrived at the compound, he parked the truck and Trixie jumped out. I leaped out of the high truck cab, and Will came around and walked me up to the bunkhouse. So, apparently for every Asshole Will, there was a Gentleman Will, too. When we got to the bunkhouse, he looked down at me, ran his hand through his longish, wavy dark hair, gave me a half-smile, and took off.

I watched him saunter back to his house, Trixie prancing at his side.

I’d left my phone in the bunkhouse and when I got to my room, I picked it up.

How was your second day of work?

This was Amelia. I texted her back.

I found out the hot guy who I thought is my boss is not actually my boss and he wants to do the nasty with me.

I thought this was summer camp, not a swinger's club.

We are complete political opposites and he is an asshole . . . sometimes.

How much of an asshole?

So far, less than fifty percent.

How hot?

Scale of 1 to 10?

Yes.

57.

Do the politics matter that much?

I don't know. I mean, yes, of course they do. This is me we're talking about. I live my beliefs. I’d be a moral failure if I slept with the enemy.

Girl . . .

I know. He's sexy as fuck, Amelia. I want to lick him. What do I do?

Lick him first. Ask questions later. If he's an asshole to you, dump him. It’s not a moral failure to have sex with a handsome man you like.

That's the strangest advice I've ever been given.

But I just might take it.

I'm here to serve. Speaking of serving, Ryan's at the door. Gotta go.

Fuck it. I was jumping Will's bones as soon as I could. I needed to get laid and I felt so attracted to him, obsessively so. There was no privacy around here, but I'd find a way.

In the evening, after dinner, I drank beer with Janine, Stephanie, and Cookie, sitting on the porch of the bunkhouse, watching the sunset, but Will was nowhere to be seen.

The next morning, Sunday, was my last day of prep before the kids got there. Officially, I had the day to myself, but I wanted to ride the horses again. After the motherfucking metal triangle woke me up way too early, again, I got up. I put on jeans, a white tank top, and boots, and fortified myself with coffee and cereal made with soy milk. Then I went to the stables with Janine and Stephanie.

"Hello, gorgeous," I cooed to Happy, as I combed him, gave him an apple, and helped the wranglers put on his pad, saddle, and other gear. After the horses were ready, Janine, Stephanie, and I set off down the trail, headed on a new-to-me trail. Our horses walked around the perimeter of a citrus orchard, out into rangeland, where there were cattle, up a road by grapevines, and then back down another dirt road to the compound. I loved being out on the horse in the morning. It was such a natural way to travel, feeling the warm, early summer air on our faces and skin, my eyes squinting at the sun. I thought about getting a cowboy hat to shade my eyes and giggled to myself about going country, instead of edgy hippie. But boots and hats were utilitarian out here.

We returned to the stables well before lunch and I helped put away Happy's tack and groomed him. Janine chatted with Stephanie, and they left for the bunkhouse to clean up for lunch. As I headed out of the tack room, I saw Will go into one of the barns.

Opportunity.

Last night I’d made the decision. He was going to be my plaything for the summer and I was shoving the politics to the side. Either that or I was embracing the fact that he was a very enthralling boundary that I wanted to cross in the most sinful way.