Page 3 of Resisting Isaac

If I don’t get laid tonight to prepare for a parade of untouchable actresses to arrive, she won’t be the only one.

CHAPTER TWO

elena

“Mom, it’s Montana. Not the moon. I promise I’m fine.”

I prop my cell phone between my face and shoulder, rubbing my temples as I rest my elbows on the bar.

She continues her long-winded and well-rehearsed rant. My life decisions are a constant source of disappointment, as is my lack of direction. And my personal favorite, if I’d just grow up and settle down with their neighbor’s lawyer son, Diego Torres, I could have already started a family by now.

I’m twenty-four. In my mother’s opinion, practically an old maid.

“Your cousin has a beautiful home in Santa Fe, mija,” she says, finally losing steam and getting to what truly bothers her most: her sister’s kid outdoing me. “A handsome successful husband. Two perfect children. Why do you insist on living out of suitcases, Elena? You are not a vagrant.”

Inhaling the last of the strength I have after a long flight, I tell my mother I love her, and that my hotel room is ready, so I have to go.

I’m lying. There was a delay with my hotel room whichled me to a small bar nearby while I wait. The Stillery seems nice enough but I’m ready for a shower and some sleep. I’m not typically dishonest but lying to my mother for her own sake might be how I became a decent actress.

After disconnecting the call, I set my phone down and glance up. The bartender is a young woman who reminds me of myself a few years ago. I used to tend bar between acting gigs back when I only got local commercials.

She offers me a sympathetic smile. “Would it help if I said she probably just nags you to death because she cares?”

I smile back at her. “Not really, but thanks for trying. Something stiff would help.”

I mean a drink, but the cowboy next to me snickers.

I hadn’t even realized anyone was beside me. Apparently, he and the bartender caught my family drama playing out.

“Something amusing, cowboy?”

I turn toward him on my barstool, expecting a balding, middle-aged man with a wife and two kids at home to be bellied up beside me at the bar.

What looks back at me is a green-eyed demon with messy blonde hair under his hat and a jaw that appears to be chiseled from stone. He’s ridiculously attractive, one of those dangerous ones a girl could lose her entire identity and all self-respect trying to tame.

My body responds to his proximity before my brain can stop me. My heart speeds in my chest, my legs part just an inch or two wider, opening in his direction, and I wet my lips because my mouth goes dry as all my bodily fluids head south.

Maybe shooting this show in Montana for a few months won’t be so bad after all. I’d been more than a little miffed about having to come two months early for cowboy training camp. Seems pointless since I’ve been riding horses since Icould walk. But the network producing the show said it was an insurance liability and there was no getting out of it.

Bless them.

“Depends, princess,” he says through the sexiest mouth I’ve ever seen on a man. “How stiff are we talking? Tequila shots or are you looking for something…harder?”

I clench my legs and my teeth together, determined not to fall for this guy’s bullshit. Even though the way he says harder makes my nipples pucker and pussy throb with awareness.

I could show this cocky cowboy just how un-princess-like I am. And enjoy the hell out of making him eat his words, along with a few other things.

“Tequila shots are for kids on Spring Break.” I do my best to appear unaffected. Smile sweetly. “Do I look like I’m on Spring Break? Wait, no. Apparently, you think I look like a princess. Maybe your hat’s on a little too tight.”

He quirks those full masculine lips of his. “You look like you’d taste like cotton candy and make me bend the knee before the night was over.”

You have no idea, buddy.

I can’t help but smirk at him. I’m soaking my panties just thinking about it. Damn. I didn’t realize I’d gotten so hard up. But it’s been a while.

A long while.

Almost a year since I made the colossal mistake of hooking up with the guy my mom has hoped I would marry since we were ten.