Wild at Whiskey Creek by Julie Anne Long

Author:Julie Anne Long
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2016-11-29T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter 12

She woke up because the place between her nose and upper lip was strangely hot. She opened one eye and discovered it was because her blinds were haphazardly closed and the sun was lasering down on her in that spot.

She opened her other eye and then shut them again with a groan. She’d had worse hangovers, hangovers that felt like tympani, but not for quite some time. This one felt like a huge cotton ball packed around her brain, somewhat muffling her ability to think.

Alas, things started to come back to her a little too quickly.

The Baby Owls show was tonight, and she was due to work an afternoon shift.

And from there, everything else from last night sifted back.

She flung a melodramatic arm over her eyes and she groaned in abject humiliation.

Eli had declined the opportunity to drunkenly hump her in the front seat of his cruiser, and then she had yelled at him.

Correction: He’d wanted to hump her, he’d just opted to do the right thing instead.

Last night it had scalded her pride. This morning, dear mother of God, was she ever grateful nothing had happened, because he was right.

But why did he always have to be right?

And witness to her most ignominious moments?

Good night’s work, all in all, Greenleaf, she told herself.

She crawled out of bed, turned her tiger toward the wall so it wouldn’t have to look at her, then climbed back in.

Then again, it was entirely possible he was getting his needs met by Blondie McBlonderson.

Or would be soon. Given that Glory had gotten him hot and hard and then departed in a huff.

And why shouldn’t Eli enjoy a less . . . eventful . . . woman? She couldn’t picture Bethany hurling things at billboards, because, let’s face it, how many sane women would?

And for that matter . . . why shouldn’t she explore the possibilities presented by a gorgeous actor with a Porsche?

As this train of thought was hardly soothing, she finally dragged her sorry butt out of her bedroom and made for the kitchen, yawning and calling “Mom?”

No answer. Her mom was already out and about.

Fortunately, at some point her mom had bought more coffee. The budget-stretching kind that tasted like burned sawdust and came in a can that might as well read “ACME” on the side.

She troweled about two cups’ worth into the French press and put on the kettle. That ought to clear the cotton out of her head.

She peered blearily around the kitchen and her gaze stopped at the kitchen table.

She wasn’t surprised to see a note from John-Mark there. She was only surprised he hadn’t pinned it there with a dagger. She could see a black row of exclamation points from where she stood.

She peered down at it.

You drank FOUR of my Mickey’s??????!!!!!!!!!!! I said one! ONE!

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.