Chapter 13: No Hargroves' Names

Annette took one look at the two of us and put her reading glasses in her shirt pocket.

"Stephanie, you're sleeping in my room tonight," she said.

"Why?" Stephanie asked.

"Because I snore, and I'm going to turn the radio up so you won't notice."

She steered Stephanie down the hall by the shoulders.

A door shut, and a minute later a station playing old country songs came on, loud.

Shane looked at the closed door and then at me.

"She's subtle," he said.

"She's sixty-one. She's earned it."

Rain had started on the porch roof, a steady drum that got louder while we stood in the kitchen with the binders between us.

I picked up the lamp and walked down the back hall to my room.

I didn't say come on.

I heard his boots behind me anyway.

The room was small, with an iron bed, a quilt and one window over the lake path.

I set the lamp on the nightstand, turned around and put my back against the door after he came in.

"One rule," I said.

"Go on."

"No Hargroves' names in my bed. Not Dalton's, not his father's, not the company's."

His mouth moved.

"My mother's maiden name is Hargrove," he said.

"Then you'd better not say it."

"Agreed."

I took hold of his shirt and pulled him down to me.

He kissed me slowly this time.

I undid his buttons one at a time and pushed the shirt off his shoulders.

His chest was broad and warm, with dark hair.

I found the pale scar on his left forearm and put my mouth on it.

He made a rough sound, and his hand closed in my hair.

"Holly."

"I want to see all of you," I said. "Take it off."

He took off his boots and his jeans while I watched.

Then he lifted the hem of my sweater, and I raised my arms so he could pull it over my head.

His hands were rough on my back and my ribs.

Keep reading free with an account. Start My Best Friend Ripped Off My Veil, So I Took Back Every Dollar from Chapter 1, then sign up free to read the rest of this chapter.