Page 18 of Broken
I kiss along Avery’s jaw to her ear. We’re in plain sight, and I can’t do what I want and bend her over the nearest car’s hood.
“Is that pussy wet for me like it was at the spring?” I growl, my dick pressing into her so she knows I want her as much now as I did then.
She stiffens in my hold and pulls back, our breaths mingling. Her eyes flutter open and I get lost in hers for a moment. They’re so blue. So fucking blue like the Montana summer sky.
“You asshole,” she seethes.
“Me? Kitten, you’re the one who left town.”
“You’re the one who told me I was a whore.”
What?
I blink, set her on her feet. “I’d never say that about you.”
She turns and practically runs across the lot. I make chase again. A car lock beeps and she flings open the passenger door of a black sedan, probably a rental.
“Leave me alone, Chance.”
“No.” My heart is beating as if I ran here from the ranch. “No fucking way.”
“We have nothing to say to each other.”
“Right. That’s how you like it.”
She reaches in, grabs a folder full of papers, and then stands inside the open door, eyeing me as if I were shit on her shoe.
“What do you want from me?” she demands. “I’m here to work the case and then I’ll be gone.”
“Just like the day after I made you mine.”
She moves to close the door, but I’m blocking her escape since we’re between two parked cars. She turns again and heads the other direction, through the next row.
“You don’t have to say anything now. I got it all loud and clear in your letter. Fuck off, Chance!”
Two patrons leaving the restaurant eye me with contempt as Avery runs back inside, leaving me standing there. Stunned.
Confused.
“What letter?” I ask out loud.
But she’s not there to answer.
7
AVERY
Instead of going backto my table, I head straight for the ladies’ room. I set the folder down and then grasp the porcelain edge of the sink and stare into the mirror. The whites of my eyes look hazy—hazy with the tears that are about to fall.
I sniff them back as best I can, grab a paper towel from the dispenser, and unceremoniously blow my nose into it. It’s rough against my skin, but I don’t care. Life is rough. Fucking rough.
A toilet flushes, and a pretty young woman with striking green eyes appears at the sink next to mine. She pumps some hand soap into her palms, turns on the faucet, and then glances over at me.
Her eyes widen. “Are you okay?”
“Fine. Thank you.” I loosen my grip from the sink and take a longer look at her. She looks vaguely familiar to me.
“You sure?” she pushes. “You look a little…dazed… And sad.”
