Page 46 of Bad For Me (Rock Canyon, Idaho 5)

“Yeah, all good.”

“Great. So should we go then?”

If you don’t say yes, you might as well forget about him. No man is going to wait around forever, especially not a guy like him.

“Okay, but I have Ratchet in the car,” she said.

“Do you want to take him home and then meet me?” he asked. Callie hesitated, and Everett spoke swiftly. “Or I can grab the food to go, and you can come over to my place. Ratchet is more than welcome to hang out with us.”

“Okay,” she said. “I’m going to head home first, but I’ll see you in about twenty minutes or so?”

“Great. Good thing you know where I live. Makes things easier.”

“Yep,” she said. “See you soon.”

Callie turned, the burn of his gaze on her back. She hurried out of the store to her car, jumping inside and pushing away Ratchet’s kisses as she burst into excited giggles. Grabbing Ratchet’s face between her two hands, she kissed his muzzle. “We have a date, buddy.”

His jaws split open, and he panted happily as she turned on her Jeep. After she backed up and exited the parking lot, she checked her appearance in the mirror, grimacing. He’d asked her out, despite her looking like a monster. It was amazing she hadn’t scared him away with her baggy, tired eyes and Bride of Frankenstein hairstyle.

Driving through the heart of Rock Canyon, she smiled. When was the last time she’d had dinner with a man? Too long, for sure.

Sixteen minutes later, she was staring at her closet in sheer frustration. Nothing in the blasted thing looked right, especially with her wild hair. She’d thought about jumping in the shower to get it wet, but then she’d have to dry it again and—

She was getting off track. Her hair was a lost cause. She needed clothes. She’d already settled on a pair of cotton boy shorts and a simple white bra, but what to put over it was proving to be a hellish decision.

Glancing down at Ratchet, she asked, “Casual is okay, right?”

The big dog just perked up his ears and tilted his head.

“Right.” Reaching in for a simple button-down and a pair of nice jeans, she dressed quickly. She was just hopping into her black boots when her cell phone blared Lady Antebellum’s “Lookin’ for a Good Time.”

“Yeah?” She tucked the phone between her shoulder and cheek as she struggled with the other boot.

“Hey, just letting you know I just got the food, and I’ll be home in about ten minutes,” Everett said.

Callie leaned back on the bed, yanking on her boot. “Okay.”

“You all right?”

“Yeah—huh—why?”

“It sounds like you’re struggling with something,” he said.

Callie realized she’d forgotten to unzip the boots, which was why they weren’t just slipping on. It had been so long since she’d tried them on, she’d forgotten. They were an impulse buy on a shopping trip with Gemma and Gracie a few months ago, when it was still too hot for boots, but they had called to her nevertheless.

“Callie?”

“Yeah, sorry, I’ll be there.”

Sitting up, she tapped the end button and fixed her boot situation. What the hell was wrong with her? So distracted she couldn’t even put her shoes on.

Finally making her way out the door, she loaded Ratchet up in the back of the Jeep and headed down the road toward the Silverton farm, her hands sweating. What if Everett had asked her over with expectations? It had been a while, and he definitely wreaked havoc on her lust buttons, but he wasn’t like the guys she used to get her rocks off. They were faceless, nameless men who she’d given her body to and nothing else.

Everett was different. She actually liked him. When she thought about him, she pictured more than just an hour or so of perfunctory fucking. She pictured getting caught up in him and getting to know everything he loved, the things he took pleasure in.

For the first time in seven years, she saw a future where she wasn’t alone.

Being only two streets away, the drive took a few minutes. The long dirt road the Silverton farm was located on reminded her of an old country painting. Lines of trees flew past, opening up to flattened cornfields surrounding three houses within a few acres of each other and a big red barn. There were no remnants of the Harvest Festival besides a flatbed truck filled with hay bales.