Trick

Copyright © 2013
Lori Garrett

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any form or by any means electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval systems, without prior written permission of the author except where permitted by law.

Published by 
Lori Garrett Books

Cover design by:
James at goonwrite.com

The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead is coincidental and not intended by the author.

CHAPTER 1

HARLOW

“You look like you’re asking for trouble,” Daisy singsongs as she tries on another halter top.

“Maybe I am.” I smooth my tight, tiny denim skirt down over my hips and step into the worn cowboy boots I’ve kept stashed in the back of my closet since that summer. When I turn sideways in the mirror, I’m glad I laid out all day yesterday. My tan is deep and even, and I want to look my best tonight. “You really think you saw him?”

“Sweetie, you’ve made me look at that damn picture a thousand times. And I feel like I could pick him out of lineup by his freaking toenail, you’ve told me so much about him! If this guy isn’t
your guy
, I resign from my position as your best friend and the best snoop in the world.” Daisy comes to stand next to me and look in the mirror over my shoulder. Her light brown hair is sleek and straight down her slim back; mine is curled all around my shoulders. Her dark eyes make her look sexy and mature; my light blue eyes make me look like a little girl. Ugh. Isn’t that what Gunner called me the night he ripped my heart out and said goodbye?

“No tears, little girl. You’re meant for someone better. You’ll forget you ever met me by the time you get back to that big ol’ house.” His eyes, my favorite shade of deep green, were nearly black in the dusk.

I circled my arms around his waist and held him tight, wishing I could see the color of his eyes. Especially if this was going to be the last time. No. I couldn’t accept the idea that I’d never see him again.

“Don’t say that. Don’t ever say that. Why can’t we keep talking? Why are you doing this?” My voice was choked with the tears that didn’t stop that night or for so many nights after.

He pulled me back and the look he gave me was hard and fierce. “Why? Because I love you like no man ever will. You hear me, Harlow? I’ve never loved anyone the way I love you. And I’m a selfish motherfucker ninety-nine percent of the time, but you’re my one exception. I won’t be selfish. I’ll let you go.” He crushed me close to him, and I could feel the beat of his heart through his white v-neck.

“No,” I pleaded, my hands catching the fabric of his shirt and holding on for dear life.

“Shit, baby, don’t do this to me.” He stroked a hand over my hair, and I grabbed his hand, kissing the tattoo on his wrist, the one he shocked me with a few weeks back, when it felt like we’d never spend another second apart. My name on his skin. Forever.

I’d cried when I saw it, and he kissed me until I stopped crying and it was nothing but our moans in the night.

“Don’t do this to me,” I begged. “You are good enough for me. I need you in my life, Gunner! I can’t go back to being Little Miss Perfect, doing what everyone else thinks I should. I never feel more like myself than when I’m with you. I’m ready to be with you always.”

“Don’t be a damn fool,” Gunner bit out, taking me roughly by the shoulders. “That life you’re so ready to run from? That’s where you belong. You need to be surrounded by nice things, nice people, a chance at an education, a family who can take care of you the way you deserve. That’s the life that’s good enough for you, and I don’t fit it. So I’m gonna bow out. Because I want every good thing to come your way, but I sure as hell can’t sit by and watch you live a better life without me. I’m not that fucking good.”

I stood up on my toes to kiss him, my lips hot on his, my tongue sweet in his mouth. I knew from the way his fingers curled over my shoulders and he moaned hard against me, I was going to win him over. I was going to change his mind.

Then he pulled back. “I love you, Harlow. Forever, no matter what, I love you and only you. Now get the fuck away from me before I hurt you.”

I reached for him one more time, but he’d turned on his heel, stalked to the fence, and jumped over while I fell to my knees, the tears turning into sobs and then wails.

I never saw Gunner Hunt again.

“Hello!” Daisy waves a hand in front of my face, her eyebrows pressed low with worry. “Girl, you need to snap out of it. This is your big chance. You look like you’re gonna faint. What’s up?”

“I...just...did you notice his wrist? Did he have the tattoo?” My palms are covered in sweat, I’m so nervous.

She sighs. “For the thousandth time, he was wearing those leather cuffs on his wrists, so I couldn’t see. But six foot three? Check. Hair dark as the devil’s?” I smile and she goes on. “Check. The sexiest damn green eyes I’ve ever seen? Mmm...hell, honey, you better get your ass to that bar before I scoop him up myself! Don’t forget, you did tell me all the dirty details about
your nights of passion before you turned into a big ol’ prude on me, so I know what that boy can do. Graphically.”

“Daisy!” I feel my cheeks go fire hot, but my best friend just laughs.

“It’s him! It’s him, him him, and you need to get your fine little ass to that bar and shake what your mama gave you in his face, because, sweetie, you were cute as pie at seventeen, but you’ve turned into a goddamn fox in the last three and a half years. That boy is going to have you naked and panting in the bar restroom—”

“Daisy!” I yank her by the arm and lead her to my little red Jeep, hoping she doesn’t trip on her stilettos and knock me on the gravel before we get to the bar where Gunner is supposed to be.

“Watch the road,” Daisy warns as I swerve. I can’t help it. My heart is racing, my hands are shaking.

I’m thinking about what it was like last time we made love. The way his body moved over mine. For a while after he left, I promised myself I’d never be with anyone else. But, eventually, the hole in my heart got too damn big and empty, and I wanted to fill it. I found a nice guy my dad loved, and, after a few months together, we had sex.

Yep. Had sex is all we did.

Cause it sure as hell wasn’t making love. It was nothing like what it had been with Gunner.

After that guy and I broke up, I didn’t bother again. What was the point? I knew my heart was with Gunner, and I knew no one else could make me happy.

I guess I hoped I’d see him again, but to have it be so real? So close? I couldn’t stop the tremors that shook my body.

“What if he has a girlfriend?” I ask Daisy, as we get in her car. My voice coming out in a rush because I’m scared to say the words.

“Then he dumps that slut for you,” Daisy says, flipping through songs on her iPod until she finds something she likes. She’s belting out an Adele song, so I have to ask my next question twice.

“What if he doesn’t want to be with me?” I repeat, putting the music lower. “What if I made it this whole thing in my head and it really wasn’t? It’s been three years. He’s never attempted to email, call, drop by when I was in town...nothing. Am I being pathetic? You’d tell me, right?”

Daisy reaches a hand over and squeezes. “Hon, you are a smart, beautiful, sweet person. And Gunner was madly in love with you. Back then, him leaving may have made sense. But you had
your time to do what you needed to do, you knocked out so much school, you traveled the world—and you still want him. I figure he’s gonna be pretty much happy as hell to hear that. I saw him at the bar, and he wasn’t flirting or checking out any girls.”

I nod.

“And if he, um, wants to, uh...”

It’s terrible that I’m thinking about making love to him again, but Daisy just puts her head back and laughs.

“Harlow, sweetie, if that boy wants to sprinkle rose petals all over the bed and make sweet, sweet love to you, I’ll jump up and cheer. You’ve needed a good roll in the sack for a long time.” She smiles, and I stare ahead, not willing to say anything else to my big-mouthed friend. “I’ve never had a problem getting a ride home if I’ve had too much to drink, and I think Chase might be here tonight.”

I don’t even try to hide my face. “Chase? I forbid you to go home with him again. That boy wants you for one thing and one thing only.”

She bats her long lashes my way. “Baby, the thing is, if I want to give it to him, then it’s all fair. And good. Mmm, so damn good.” She closes her eyes and grinds in the seat.

“You’re crazy,” I laugh, and I’m glad I have Daisy to help me forget the butterflies beating their wings harder and harder in my stomach.

Because I’m going to see him.

Finally.

And I’m so damn scared.

And so damn ready.

Bring it.

CHAPTER 2

GUNNER

There’s nothing I don’t like about this bar.

The worn leather stools. The crappy neon sign that never lights up all the letters at once. The smell of stale peanuts and beer in every inch of the place. The rotating display of racks of every gorgeous girl in town.

Most of all, I love the fact that this place is all mine.

Sure it was bought with dirty money. But that money didn’t come easy. Who would have guessed that the summer my father took me and my brothers across the country to slave away as roadies and muscle for the band, Pitch Black Riot, we’d witness more than a few things that they didn’t want anyone outside to know about? When one groupie wound up being a trust fund baby and my brother got some footage of her, the bassist, and the drummer doing things that would make the most hardcore porn studio drool, my father made quick work of sending a snippet to her daddy. And, a few negotiations later, Dad kept the lion’s share of a shitload of hush money, but he gave each of us a little bit.

My dad may be an asshole, but he’s loyal as hell. We worked our asses off, and he paid us.

Suddenly the good-for-nothing Hunts proved we were a force to be reckoned with in little old Piedmont. Most citizens of this fine town figured we’d drink and drug the money away, but my dad raised us all smarter than that.

“Why buy the booze from the bar when you can own it off the tap? Smart, son,” he said, his smile of pride falling a little when I made it damn clear I wasn’t opening a bar so everyone with the last name Hunt could get a free drink whenever he wanted.

We like to fuck, so there are dozens of us. And we’re all pretty damn cold-blooded, mean as hell, and always starting trouble. I love my blood, but I have no interest in spending any more time with them than I have to.

And now that I can be done worrying about them making it, I left them all, never looking back. Some might say I’m crazy for walking away from the limitless fortune I could have had if I’d stuck around with my dad while he bought oil rigs and got my brothers to work for him and buy up shares, but they don’t know what it’s like to live in a constant state of backstabbing, lies, and revenge. Money corrupts like no one’s fucking business, and I feel like I didn’t know the people I was raised with anymore. It’s rough not having anyone to trust, anyone who’s real.

“What’ll it be?” I ask, drying a rocks glass, and then stacking it on the shelf with the others.

“Jameson, on the rocks,” the suit says, pushing past a tiny blonde.

I roll my eyes at his choice. His suit doesn’t fit well, and he looks like he thinks he’s much more important than he actually is. Which irritates me, because he may have a good job, but that doesn’t make him any more important than the rest of us.

Besides, I may come from white trash, but we were always taught ladies first. With everything. First in line, first to order, first to get off when we’re fucking. What can I say? I’m a gentleman to the core.

“I think the lady was first,” I say, turning my attention back to the glasses. The man huffs and barely steps aside, leaving only a few inches for her small frame to squeeze up to the bar.

“Sapphire Sin,” she says. Her voice is light, but with a hitch of sexiness.

And I nearly drop the damn glass I’m drying.