Can't Hardly Breathe (The Original Heartbreakers #4)

“Yes, ma’am. For now.” He withdrew the small bottle of nail polish from his pocket. “This is for you. A new color.”

The starch drained from her, and she looked up at him through the thick fan of her lashes. “White with glitter?”

“To represent passion. Soon you’re going to lust for me, and you need to be prepared.”

A sharp intake of breath, her bee-stung lips parted. He leaned closer, intending to kiss her. Can’t resist a second more. Just a peck. A precursor for the things to come. Without another word, she spun and darted down the hall, disappearing around the corner. A door slammed.

“I won’t count this as a retreat,” he called. Since he’d already solidified their dates. “I’m pretty sure you’re running away so you can prepare for tomorrow. You know I like to be wined, dined and sixty—”

Her screech echoed down the hall. “Shut your piehole, Porter!”

He laughed with genuine amusement. And it felt good. Odd, but good. They needed to discuss her tendency to bail on him. Or maybe he should give her a reason to stick around?

Yeah. That one.

As good as done.

Whistling like a carefree boy he couldn’t remember being, he headed to the lobby to deal with his asshole friends.





CHAPTER SEVEN

DOROTHEA STAYED UP all night watching online radar, hoping an F-1 or F-2 would blow through the barren fields on the outskirts of town. No one would be hurt and nothing would be damaged, but she’d have a legit distraction from thoughts of Daniel.

Alas. The storm passed without dropping a single piece of the predicted hail.

When finally she lay down, thoughts of her tormentor continued to, well, torment her. Why had she agreed to his negotiation? She should have cultivated discord instead of welcoming him closer.

Face it. I’m about as sharp as a marble.

Nowadays the only person she could count on was herself, but even she was unreliable.

Could she really blame herself, though? The lure of free labor had tantalized her. Almost as much as Daniel.

Thou shalt help when needed.

Today, when Daniel had looked at her, she’d felt like the most beautiful woman on earth. She’d felt desired. Heck, she was desired. The man was coming at her guns blazing, determined to seduce her into his bed. He was working to win her, as if she were a prize. It was a first for her.

Sighing dreamily, she clutched a pillow to her chest and rolled to her side.

Before the bare-her-body-and-soul incident, she would have accepted whatever he offered with a please and thank you, grateful for his attention, no negotiation necessary. But no matter what she’d told him—or herself—she would have crumpled like a tin can when they parted.

He wouldn’t have been a memory to cherish but another nightmare to add to her collection. The newest guy to take what he wanted from her and leave. Unfortunately, such an abysmal outcome wasn’t a proper deterrent for her hormones; they hungered; they wanted to devour him.

They said: Sleep with Daniel once, as originally planned. Or twice. Probably three times. He can be your guilty pleasure. The first you’ve ever had. You’ll enjoy nights of ecstasy. What do consequences matter?

All she had to lose was her pride. No big deal, right? Been there, done that.

Except, Daniel planned to hide his association with her, as if he were ashamed of her. So really, more than her pride was at stake. He could destroy the entirety of her self-worth.

Yes, he wanted to protect his father from disappointment when the relationship ended. When it ended, she reiterated. Not if. Daniel believed the relationship would end, and what he believed would influence every decision he made, dictating the course of his life. Meaning everything he did and said would serve a single purpose: the perpetration of the expected end.

They would be doomed from the start.

When the end ultimately came, she would be alone...would feel like a woman without worth.

I’m worth something, dang it! Her heart was bigger than her thighs. And she might not have a college degree, but she owned a business. Maybe not a successful business, but one with great potential.

Besides, she wanted to be more than a challenge to a man. She wanted to be special, beloved even. A treasure worth fighting for. Finally! She hadn’t been special to her husband, and she certainly hadn’t been special to her father.

Joe Mathis had remarried as soon as the ink dried on his divorce papers. Dorothea and Holly hadn’t been invited to the wedding. Certain there’d been some kind of mistake, she’d driven Holly into the city; her sister had been so eager to see their dad and excited to meet their new stepsiblings. His new wife had a son and a daughter of her own, both close to Holly’s age.

Neither Dorothea nor Holly had a chance to even get out of the car. Dad and the kids had been playing a game on the front lawn. He’d laughed and tossed a ball with the boy before twirling the girl through the air. When he’d spotted his girls in the rust bucket, he’d sent the other kids inside a pretty house with white shutters over the windows, closed the distance and crouched beside Holly’s open window.

“Go home, girls,” he’d said. “I’ve started over, and so should you. I don’t need reminders of my past.”

No I love you. No I miss you. Just a basic I’m done with you.

That day was forever branded in Dorothea’s mind. It was the last time she’d seen her sister cry. Because, the moment her dad said Go home, girls, all hope had died in Holly. The color had faded from her cheeks. Her lips had pressed together, and her eyes—so like my own—had hardened.

It was as if Holly’s tender side had been cleaved from her soul, leaving her cold inside.

Remembering, Dorothea fought a sob.

Men sucked. Why did she even want one?

She didn’t! So. She would continue to resist Daniel. But...if a miracle happened and someone worthy of her came along, she would pursue a relationship with him. Because, dang it, she did want one.

Sharp as a marble.

Her alarm screeched to life. Ugh—5:00 a.m. Dorothea groaned, rubbed her dry, burning eyes and stretched her arms over her head. This was a new day. A new opportunity to succeed in areas she had previously failed. Today, her nails would be solid yellow.

She brushed her teeth and checked her radar apps. A cold front had moved in. She dressed in warm clothes and hooked her iPod to her bicep before heading outside to start her morning run.

The sun hadn’t yet risen, the sky filled with stratus and nimbus clouds. Rain clouds. The stratus were flat and spread out, while the nimbus were puffy and dark. A hint of moisture suggested a new storm system brewed.

By the time she hit her sixth mile, a crack of thunder boomed. She should return to the inn before she experienced an outdoor shower, but Daniel would be working in the lobby today, and she slowed her pace. Not yet ready to see him.