“I know. Only she won’t be mine when she comes back.”
That was true. Happy would be assigned a different inmate trainer when she returned. Part of WWP’s purpose was to teach inmates to serve others and stop the selfish behaviors that had landed many of them here. Still, loneliness was the Black Plague of incarceration.
“You should be proud that Happy’s learned enough to move forward. You’ve made a difference. It’s not about us. It’s about the people we serve.” Jori scotched the impulse to pat Cora’s shoulder. She was a trainee, not a friend. “Let’s get some lunch.”
Minutes later, Kelli waved Jori over to her table. “I held a seat for you.”
“Thanks.” Jori plunked her lunch tray down and sat.
“Mr. Battise just called the office to schedule his three-week check.” Kelli waggled her brows at Jori. “He asked for you.”
“You got a man?” One of the inmates who shared their table was staring eagerly at Jori.
“No.” She didn’t have a man. She’d had sex with Lauray Battise. Hot, sweaty, delicious sex that gave her a rush every time she thought about it. But Battise was gone. Not one word in three weeks. Three weeks! And now he thought he could pick up the phone and summon her?
No one at Warriors Wolf Pack had said a thing about them going off together. Not even when she came back alone. They had speculated like mad, though. She could see it in their sideways glances. But she wasn’t the kind of person who shared intimate details, the emphasis on intimate.
Heat and desire licked through Jori as she stared at her plate. Useless to try to push the memories away. She’d tried often enough. Now that he had been gone long enough for her to fully appreciate the nevermore part of their hookup, it was all she could think about when she wasn’t working.
Sex with Battise had made her wonder if she’d ever really had sex before. Oh, she’d rolled around with a few guys before Brody, hooked up body parts and thought, Yeah, this is nice. But getting it on with Battise had been—well. The earth moved.
Her thighs tightened involuntarily with an urge she had no way to satisfy at the moment. Oh no. She wasn’t going to let Battise ruin her day.
She tucked into her beans and rice, and choked. The food tasted of prison life. And just now, she couldn’t swallow that.
“You need to get you some Beano.” Jori looked over at the same inmate who was still watching her. “Them beans can bind up a body somethin’ awful.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
In the time it took to walk to her SUV with the last of her supplies, Jori started having second thoughts about agreeing to spend a week with Battise. She was just asking for heartache.
Or maybe a helluva week of mind-blowing sex.
A smile tugged her mouth as she climbed behind the wheel, but she resisted. As difficult as Battise could be at times, she hadn’t regretted for even a second what had happened between them. She just needed to dial back her expectations before she saw him again.
Yeah. Like that was going to happen. Just remembering watching him towel off after a shower, all damp and squeaky-clean naked, made her mind sweat and her body tense.
A horn sounding sharply from behind her vehicle startled Jori. She’d been so busy thinking about sex she’d put her SUV in gear and begun backing up without really looking behind her. A big brown delivery van was now taking up her full-review mirror.
Jori hopped out. “Sorry. Didn’t see you.”
“No harm.” The woman driver looked at her invoice. “Are you Jori Garrison?” Jori nodded. “This is for you.” The woman handed over a huge box. “And I need you to sign here, please. Thanks. Have a good one,” the driver tossed back over her shoulder as she hurried away.
Jori did not need confirmation of the return address to realize who the box was from. But there it was anyway, written in her mother’s cheerful print. Nor did she need to open it to find out what was inside. Dresses for her to choose from for the reception and wedding coming up in a few days. Her mother had sent a text message telling her to expect them.
Annoyed that her mother hadn’t taken no for an answer, Jori stalked back to her SUV, jerked open a back door, and tossed the box on the seat.
“Doesn’t anyone listen to me?” She slammed the door so hard the SUV rocked.
Mee-owing in concern, Argyle poked her head up through the top of the cat carrier sitting on the floor of the passenger side to check out the source of that frustrated voice.
Jori slid behind the wheel. “Not now, Argyle.” She pushed her kitten gently back inside and checked the lock. Then she started the ignition, threw the SUV into gear, and took off as if she could outdistance her problems by driving like a bat out of hell.
*
“No. No. No. Not here.”