“Yeah.” She did. She’d always had for now. Sometimes she wondered what forever looked like. God knew, she didn’t have a solid example from her mother. Her father? Never seen him. But even her friends had a similar outlook to Amanda’s. There were no wedding invitations—Regina excluded—no calls to be a bridesmaid, no gushing e-mails about being the love of someone’s life. Her friends all sat on the same side of the line with regard to soul mates and true love.
Bunk it. Give me a good drink and a good orgasm and I’m satisfied.
“I saw Trace Muldoon hanging around a long while the other night.” Amanda stalled by starting to roll silverware for the next day’s lunch shift. “He have anything interesting to say?”
“Not a word,” Jo lied. “Just another cowboy. You know how that goes.”
“Yeah.” Her friend sighed lustily. “But God, what a sexy one. And there’s something to be said for the quiet types who know what to do in bed and don’t ruin it with a lot of chatter.”
Jo couldn’t disagree, so she simply kept her mouth shut.
“You know, it’s interesting about him. He—”
“Amanda. For the love of God. I’m—”
“Not listening to gossip. Yeah, yeah, yeah.” Amanda rolled her eyes and let the last silverware roll drop into a bin. “No fun, that’s what you are.”
“Says so on my name tag.” Jo patted the embroidered pocket of her polo saying it was Jo’s Place.
Amanda snorted in disgust. “Fine. Stay here in your little bubble of solitude. When you want to know the good shit, come find me.”
Amanda left, and Jo watched her walk across the street and get safely into her car before turning away from the door. Now that she was alone, she hauled ass to get through the last of her duties and locked up. Walking around the corner toward her steps, she slowed, and then stopped as a feeling of déjà vu came over her.
“Hey, stranger.”
“Hey, yourself.” Trace leaned against the side of his truck, but didn’t approach. Just like last time. “It’s a little late, but I took a chance you wouldn’t kick me out on my ass.”
Jo shrugged. “I’m more inclined to get pissed over an early wake-up call than a late night visit.”
His smile was slow and easy. “That’s encouraging.”
Jo waited a beat, then swept her arm toward the stairs. Why pretend they didn’t both want it? That was self-defeating, and she made it a point to not be. “Well, if you’re coming, then let’s go.”
He followed her, then held out a hand when they reached her front door.
She eyed it. “What?”
“Keys.”
“I’m not giving you my keys. I can open the damn door myself. Country boys,” she muttered as she wrestled with the key ring and the fifty thousand keys on it. Seriously, did they make babies while the lights were out? When did she ever get this many keys? After trial and error, she found the one she wanted and unlocked her door.
“Maybe it’s just a polite thing, not a country thing. What, no city guys open your door for you?”
“They knew modern, twenty-first century gals like to do some heavy lifting ourselves,” she shot back. Clearly, she would have to lay down a few rules or else the man would be running over her life like a freight train. “I’m fully capable of carrying my own packages and opening doors and paying for dinner.”
“Of course you are.” He said it so easily, it took her a moment to figure out if he was joking or not. “But why do it, if you don’t have to?”
Jo opened her mouth, then closed it again. He’d asked a legit question. One she didn’t have a smartass answer to. She’d save that for later. “Whatever. Are you staying?”
“Are you inviting me?”
“You’re in my home and it’s one in the morning. I think if I didn’t want you to stay, it would have been foolish to let you in.” It was probably foolish, regardless. Something about Trace Muldoon screamed danger, and not in the bad boy biker dude sort of way. But in the you could so get burned way.
“Well, since you’re struggling to issue the invitation, I’ll do the hard work myself.” Trace took his hat off and ran a hand through his hair, fluffing it a little. The hat dropped to her entry table and his boots thudded softly over her scarred hardwood floors. “Jo, I’d like to stay with you tonight.”
Jo dug for some sort of snappy remark, but she came up empty. When his body closed in on hers, she breathed, “All right.”
His own sigh matched hers. Jo almost laughed. Was he relieved she’d said yes? Like she’d be able to resist him.