Page 57 of Unchained

“And your bags are where, Mr. Sterling?”

I rest my elbows on the counter. “One bag,” I correct her. “Because I packed for a three-day trip, not three weeks. And I left it by the front door so I could drag your dead body through the house.”

The second we got off the plane, Gianna entered vacation mode. Her shoulders dropped, and her smile beamed. She told me she tries to vacation two to three times a year to get away from the crazy and figure out a way to relax. And I’m kinda jealous. I don’t know how many years it’s been since I unclenched my jaw. I never even think about just… disappearing to try to relax. Although, I can see the appeal.

She barks out a laugh. “I needed outfit options, Colten. It’s standard procedure for a woman. Do you know what else is?” she asks with a mischievous grin.

I bite my lip. I want to say orgasm, but I’m not about to press her buttons again on that. But I’d throw her across this counter and fuck her if she asked me nicely. It’s all I can damn well think about. She fell asleep resting against my arm on the plane, so I cuddled her. I cuddled this woman, had her in my arms, and my body melted against the chair. Fight or flight disappeared in me for a few hours.

“Nope. Enlighten me, viper,” I say, taking a sip of my coffee.

I cough as I swallow it. “Damn, how many espressos are in here?” I croak.

“Three?”

I swallow again; fuck, it burns. Should coffee burn?

“Anyway, carry on.”

“I’m going to spend the entire afternoon on a sun lounger, smothered in oil, and take the longest damn nap of my life. And I need you, sir, to wake me up when it’s time for me to get ready to scope out the restaurant.”

Sir. One word that triggers me like saying “walkies” to a dog.

“Oh, so I’m your personal assistant today. Should I also provide refreshments?” I tease.

She runs her tongue along her perfectly white teeth, tapping her black nail on her lips. Gianna loves everything in black. Her clothes, her nails, her wedding ring.

“If you could, that would be perfect, cowboy. Do you know how to make an espresso martini?"

“Yeah… Do we have the martini?” I ask.

Never made one in my life.

“Go check the dead body suitcase, Colt. I brought supplies.” She winks.

I laugh; this fucking woman. The fact that she can make me laugh, for no good reason, makes me think about what Jett said, about how she is good for me. “Of course you did. You pack enough cigarettes too?”

She starts counting on her fingers. “Ten packs enough?”

“For us both?” I ask.

She scowls. “I don’t share, Colten. Those things keep me alive.”

“Can’t argue with that logic.” Probably isn’t far off. Cigarettes ain’t going to kill us before another person does. So why not?

“Exactly. I made it to thirty; I’m good, Colt,” she hums.

And I’m sure as shit there is a hint of regret in her tone.

She fascinates me, frustrates me, and turns me on like no one else ever could. I’m starting to wonder if it’s because she seriously doesn’t like me.

Do I like the chase of wanting someone I can’t have?

Fuck knows, but I’m going to have fun figuring it out. I’m Vacation Mode Colten now; I’m embracing this new circus my life is. Which ain’t something I do often. Most of my time is spent working and putting out fires trying to destroy everyone I love.

Gianna is showing me there may be more to life outside Sterling Ranch.

“How's your coffee?” she asks.