“He’s a hero,” Shelley countered, and Briar frowned, wondering why they were even talking about it. She hadn’t talked to Knox since that awkward phone call last week. A phone call that had felt a lot like a breakup. Worse. It actually felt worse than the time she walked in on Beau with Kylie--Marie. Except it shouldn’t have hurt that much. She and Knox hadn’t been in a relationship. It was only sex. He’d made that clear.
She told herself it was for the best. Butterflies in her stomach every time she got within five feet of a dangerous criminal wasn’t healthy. No matter how shattering the sex was . . . no matter how, sometimes, his eyes seemed to smile when he looked at her.
“Hmm.” Shelley traced the rim of her glass in slow circles. “Imagine all that sex he’s got stored up inside him from being locked up all these years.”
Briar’s fingers tightened around the stem of her margarita glass and she took another gulp, those butterflies back, rioting in her belly. Yes, she could imagine because she knew. She hadn’t told Shelley that she’d been with him multiple times. She’d only divulged that first time. She wasn’t sure why except that it had started to feel too personal. She certainly hadn’t shared with her neighbor that there had been a pregnancy risk either.
“Too bad you’re not going to see him again,” Shelley continued. “He’s going to need someone to release all that energy on.”
“I know where he works,” Briar murmured automatically . . . unthinkingly. “Place called Roscoe’s—-”
“The bar off Highway 51?”
Briar did a half-nod, half--shrug sort of thing. “Yeah, but I don’t really—-”
Shelley hopped up from the couch, her legging--clad legs doing a wild little jig. “We have to go! Tonight!”
“Uh . . .” Briar motioned to the back bedroom where they had just tucked in Shelley’s children not half an hour ago.
Shelley nodded. “I can get a sitter. Seriously. We have to do this. Before you lose your nerve. I’ve been there a -couple times. The place is wild on the weekends.”
“Lose my nerve?” she squeaked. “Shelley, I didn’t say we were going.” Nerve was for someone who had made a dramatic decision. A decision as dramatic as showing up at the workplace of the panty--dropping--hot felon she’d had a fling with. Had. As in over. And she had most definitely not made that decision. “I haven’t even got any nerve.”
“Briaaaaar,” Shelley cajoled.
“This is crazy,” she muttered. “He’ll know I’m there because—-”
“You want to fuck his brains out,” Shelley finished with an emphatic nod, her voice matter--of--fact.
“Shelley,” she snapped. “You know I don’t—-”
“I know that, but God, Briar, don’t you just want to ever go after what you want? And I know you want him.” Her dark eyes peered at Briar closely, like she was trying to see under her skin. Heat flamed Briar’s face because, yeah, she did want him again. It had been a week, but she’d been on edge without him the entire time, craving him like an addict needed her fix.
“I know in the two years that you’ve been living across from me there hasn’t been anyone. God, I’d die without sex for that long. Then you meet him. Are you really okay with just letting him go? Going back to an existence void of sex? I don’t know if you can handle another drought. You know what they say if you don’t use it.” She paused, staring at Briar meaningfully, her perfectly groomed eyebrows arching. “You lose it.”
“My vagina falls off?” Briar asked incredulously. “It’s not a penis, you know.”
“Oh, you can lose a vagina.” Nodding fiercely, Shelley moved to the counter and snatched up her phone. “I’m calling the sitter.” She pointed at the door. “Get yourself home and in the shower. Hurry! And be sure to shave.” Her sparking eyes traveled up and down Briar, stopping to rest on her hair. “And no ponytails. Use that conditioner I gave you to tame that nest. Use like half the bottle if you need to.”
“Fine,” Briar grumbled, clambering off her friend’s couch.
Stepping outside, she crossed the walkway and slipped inside her town house. Her stomach fluttered with excitement as she headed into her bedroom. She started sliding hangers, looking for something sexy to wear. There was no denying it. She was looking forward to seeing Knox again. Despite any promises she had made to herself to let it end . . . despite the ring of finality she had heard in his voice on the phone last week, she wanted to see him again.
ROSCOE’S WAS A broad wood building sitting back off the highway. The wood looked weathered and so stressed it might collapse in the next big storm. Antique signs and rusty license plates decorated the outside of the building. There were several motorcycles parked out front, along with an assortment of trucks. Shelley’s neon coupe looked decidedly out of place in the gravel lot.
“You’ve been here before?” Briar questioned as they made their way up the wood ramp to the door.