The One That I Want (Scorned Women Society Book 3) by Piper Sheldon (e book reader android txt) 📕

my encounter with the mysterious stranger, revealing a hint of one of the tattoos on my hip. As I tucked the material in again and smoothed my skirt down, I shivered. All the delicious heat generated by our short encounter swiftly left my body in an inexplicable draft of icy dread.

“What am I doing?” I asked the woman staring back at me in the mirror.

Like two lenses trying to focus down to one image, a mixed-up sight wobbled in front of me. The Roxy I was now overlay the Roxy of my past. Bleary eyes from drinking too much, too fast. Hair wild with curls and added volume. Eyeliner smeared. Lips swollen and smudged from making out. That Old Roxy stacked on top of the image of who I was now. Roxy who had gotten her life in order. Who had a good job and good friends. My mind flashed back to nights at the Dragon Bar when I’d drunkenly check myself out in the mirror. I remembered how it felt as a wave of depression crashed over me. How I swallowed it down, before going back out to dance with another biker I didn’t like.

My breaths came shallow and fast, but in that chest-seizing way that made me feel like I might die.

All the work I’d done these last few years to change my life and what was I doing? What would the new manager of Donner Lodge think if he saw me now? I’d been sent to Denver to attend a hospitality convention and, after one night alone, I’d slipped right back into old habits. My goal tonight was only to go out and have fun with myself. Men were never on the schedule. I let myself get so caught up in one charming man.

I was supposed to be a professional. William from Outside the Box told me earlier that a lot of people from his company came to this bar. That he might even stop by. This wasn’t Green Valley, but the industry was still small. Too small. I had cut it too close.

“Oh my God,” I wheezed out and tried to steady my breath. I’d been such an idiot.

My phone vibrated again but I didn’t check it. I had to leave. I didn’t like myself like this. I had to be better than what I used to be: out of control. It would be okay. This was a blip in the radar. A relapse. I was still on track.

I’d sneak out of here and I’d never see him again.

The mature thing would be to go and tell him I changed my mind. Recalling the way he’d asked me to dance, my gut told me he wouldn’t pressure me or make me feel guilty. He wasn’t a man that felt that his attraction to me meant I owed him something.

But it wasn’t him I was worried about. It was me. What if the second I saw him again or smelled him, or touched or tasted him, I’d be lost to my initial desire for him? All of my senses were out to get me. I have always been too good at making excuses to do bad things.

With a final bracing breath, I pushed out the door and beelined it to the side exit just past the kitchen. I pushed out into the dry, summer night, making it all the way across the street, almost to the hotel, when my feet stopped.

I couldn’t leave like that. There was no way I’d ever see him again, but I could picture his face, frowning as he waited for me. The hurt he would feel with each passing second. No. I couldn’t leave it like that. I had to woman up. I turned back to the club.

I smacked into him. Again.

“Oof,” he grunted as I said, “Oh shit, sorry.”

He steadied me again but quickly dropped his hands, making me feel even worse about glaring at him the first time.

He took a step back on the sidewalk. He couldn’t quite meet my gaze, the hurt was written all over his puppy dog face. “You forgot your coat. It’s nice. I thought you’d miss it.”

“Thanks,” was all I could manage, the words catching in my throat. He was too kind and sweet.

He ran a hand over his mouth, as though debating what to do next.

“I’m sorry if I came on too strong. I didn’t mean to imply anything,” he said.

With his head down and bathed in the soft halo of light from the streetlight above, he looked up at me with scrunched-up eyebrows. Good Lord, this man was the emotional equivalent of a fireman holding a puppy. My body couldn’t handle it.

I like you too much; it freaked me out. I come with a ton of baggage. This was just one night …

“No,” I said. “I have an early flight and lost track of time.”

He looked me up and down quickly. He nodded once but I got the impression he hadn’t fallen for my bullshit excuse.

I shrugged into my coat, the cool mountain air chilled me. Or my shitty behavior. I fixed my bangs back in place.

“Well, have a safe flight.” He turned to go.

I gnawed my thumbnail as he retreated. Panic grew with every step he took away from me.

“Wait,” I called completely surprising myself.

He was back in front of me in less than a second. “Yes?” His expression was open wide and a smile teased his mouth.

“It doesn’t leave until six a.m.,” I said.

I had hurt him. I didn’t deserve another shot but I just wasn’t ready to end this night. I fought to keep still as his smile grew.

“Plenty of time to get ice cream, hey?” he suggested.

I loved his accent even more every time her spoke. “Ice cream?”

“A sweet treat couldn’t hurt? Maybe chat a bit and get to know each other.”

I smiled at the ground and let my hair fall to cover my face. He didn’t insist on my hotel room. He didn’t ask for more explanations. He