Danielle had preferred him smooth when they’d gotten to the bedding portion of their relationship. He remembered the way she’d run her hands across his torso, petting him and tethering his animal to her even more, like some spell caster securing his bond. She’d had soft hands compared to his calloused ones. And incredible tits. All round with those perfect pink nipples drawing up hard anytime his lips touched them and… Shit. His dick was already swollen and thumping against the seam of his pants.
Denison chugged the water and rinsed the glass. It did no good thinking about her finer qualities. It just made the hole in the pit of his stomach yawn open a little wider. He wouldn’t ever have her again. That much was clear from the way she had looked at him when she’d been in the jeep. Like it hurt to lay her eyes on him.
He jerked open the drawer of odds and ends and dug through to the back before finding what he was looking for. Three photographs were all he had of his time with Danielle. He hadn’t looked at them in three years on principle. He wiped dust off a close-up picture of her kissing his cheek as he smiled at the camera. The second was of Danielle swinging on an old tire he’d tied from a giant pine tree in the backyard of the cabin he’d shared with Brighton at the time. Bright red gloss painted her lips, and she wore a matching knee-length summer dress that billowed out as she swung. Fucking gorgeous. The third had been his favorite, though. It was of her and Brighton leaned back on their elbows in tall meadow grass, lying in the sun with their eyes closed and heads tossed back. She wore a white sundress with little cherries on it. He traced the arc of her neck with his fingertip and grimaced at the pain in his chest.
Then he thought about burning the pictures over the stove, like he had contemplated doing a hundred times. Maybe if they didn’t exist anymore, if they didn’t sit in that drawer haunting him, maybe the pain would stop and he could forget about her. But just like every other time, he decided against it. If he got rid of the only thing he had left of her, he’d be truly alone. And that seemed somehow worse than the pain of losing her.
Whatever reason she’d thought of to come back, he wished she’d hurry up and leave so he could start getting over her again.
****
An ear-splitting racket filled Danielle’s ears, and she hunched in on herself. When she was buried deep within the warm wrinkles of her blanket, she cracked an eye open. The noise began again. She lurched up and tossed the covers away from her. The cell phone clattered across the tiny nightstand by her bed as it screamed again. Why the devil had she picked that hideous ring tone?
“Hello,” she croaked into the receiver.
“Ms. Clayton,” Mr. Reynolds purred. “Are we still asleep?”
“Uhh.” She squinted at the blurry, battery-operated alarm clock next to her bed. “Not anymore. I thought I wasn’t starting until Monday.”
“I assume you’ve settled in nicely to the rental I’ve given to you?”
She looked around the swanky, refurbished Airstream RV and nodded a tangled lock of hair out of her face. “Yes, sir, I have. It’s much nicer than I imagined it would be when you hired me.”
“Good. Then you won’t mind starting your research a little bit early. I’m on a bit of a time crunch, I’m afraid.”
“To discover the solution for the beetle infestation?” It was definitely going to take more than two extra days to solve the fiasco that had killed off the trees in the area.
“Your counterpart, Darren, is already on his way into the wilderness as we speak. Do take his enthusiasm and allow it to affect yours.”
“Sir, I’m very enthusiastic about this job. I’m sorry for the miscommunication, but I specifically remember you saying I was to start on Mon—”
“Ms. Clayton,” Reynolds snapped. “I have no patience for excuses. If you want this job, and if you want to be paid for this job, you will start today.” He sighed into the phone. “Now that we have that cleared up, I’ve decided to partner you with someone who knows the area.”
“Wait, what? This was supposed to be a lone job, and we were supposed to exchange notes in weekly meetings to bring you our findings. Darren and I can cover more ground if we work separately.”
“I didn’t say anything about you working with Darren. You’re to be working with Denison Beck. I’ve been told you’re already familiar with him.”
Her mouth dropped open, and she frowned so hard her face hurt. Nope. Hell no to that. She scrunched up her nose and closed her eyes to ward away the oncoming headache Mr. Reynolds was proving to be. “I’m not working with that man. He holds no value to the job I’m doing, and we don’t get along. If I must work with someone, fine. Choose anyone on the planet besides him. Please.”