Falling for the Enemy (Private Pleasures 3) - Page 18

“Oh, come on, who would paint the word ‘firecrotch’ on the wall outside my salon, the same day I inform City Hall I’m running for mayor? I’ll give you one guess.”

Melody turned her hand palm up as if to say I don’t know, but then smacked her forehead instead. “Justin.”

“Right. Unfortunately, I can’t prove it, and Crocker didn’t believe me at all. He basically accused me of pointing the finger at Justin as a way to discredit Tom and get an advantage in the election. He turned to Shaun and said something like, ‘Do you share Miss Boca’s suspicions about your brother?’ And that’s how I found out I’d broken my sex hiatus with none other than Shaun Buchanan.”

“Oops,” Ellie said.

“Yeah, oops. I laid into him for not telling me who he was, and he fought back by saying he didn’t know I was running for mayor, but basically calling me delusional if I believed knowing his last name would have made any difference the other night.”

“Cocky,” Melody noted.

“Very. But I can be cocky, too, so I told him it made a big freaking difference from here on out, and there would be no repeats.”

Ellie’s brows drew together. “But…didn’t you start this conversation saying ‘It happened again?’”

She felt her cheeks heat and sipped her water before continuing. “’Fraid so. This morning Shaun interrupted my morning run, hauled me into the Gas ’n Go restroom, and proceeded to make me come so hard I had to crawl home.”

“Sweet baby Jesus in the manger.” Melody practically crossed herself. “I hate when that happens. No, wait…I love when that happens.”

“Yeah, but I know it’s stupid of me to let it keep happening. I didn’t know who he was that first night, so I can blame my weak moment on hormones. I don’t have the same excuse for what happened this morning. There are so many reasons why I shouldn’t be jumping the man. I don’t know why my good sense disappears as soon as he touches me.”

Ellie cleared her throat. “There’s a medical term for the phenomenon. It’s called ‘screwing your brains out’.”

Ginny sat back in the booth and blew a stray hair off her face. “Well, I need the cure, or I’m going to look like a hypocrite, telling everyone in town we don’t need the Buchanans while I’ve secretly got one stashed in my bed. Worse, I’ll look like a manipulative bitch, trying to get the inside track on Tom’s campaign by cozying up to his son.”

“Sorry. Despite medical advances, there’s no tried-and-true cure.”

“That’s not very helpful. I can’t afford to let this…whatever it is…between Shaun and me happen again.”

“You think he’ll say something?” Melody asked.

“Shaun? No.” She stared out the window at the gray clouds rolling in from the East. They were in for a soaking later. “I can’t even pretend to know his deal, but I know he won’t say a word. He’s very…self-contained, and he’s not looking to discredit me. His father and his brother, though? I can’t say the same about them.”

“But, if he’s going to keep your secret”—Ellie turned her hands so her palms faced up, and looked around—“where’s the risk?”

“You’ve been away so long you’ve forgotten how small towns work, but nobody knows better than a former gossip queen how impossible it is to keep a secret in Bluelick.”

Her table-mates met the observation with silence. So that was that. She knew what she said was true, but had harbored a small hope the girls would point out some error in her logic.

LouAnn cleared her throat. “Want me to have Junior swing by the salon this afternoon and take care of your wall?”

“Thanks, but there’s no need. Apparently, in addition to knowing how to keep a secret, Shaun knows how to paint. When I got to the salon this morning the graffiti was gone.”

“Aww. That was sweet of him.”

Yeah, so sweet she’d almost teared up right there on the sidewalk. Not good. She didn’t blush, and she didn’t get misty-eyed over a sweet gesture. And yet, thanks to Shaun, she’d done both.

The diner door opened and Tom walked in with Ed Pinkerton, the manager of the hardware store. They headed toward a booth in the back, but Tom caught sight of her as they passed and detoured to their table.

“My esteemed opponent,” he said loud enough to turn the rest of the heads in the diner their way.

“Hey Tom,” she replied.

“I heard about your trouble last night at the hair parlor.”

“Word travels fast.”

“I keep my ear to the ground, especially when someone accuses my boy of wrongdoing.”

Tags: Samanthe Beck Private Pleasures Erotic
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