Games We Play by Robinson Ruthie

Author:Robinson, Ruthie [Robinson, Ruthie]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Romance Contemporary, multicultural romance
ISBN: 9780985697136
Publisher: ARTWO Publishers
Published: 2013-10-22T17:00:00+00:00

Thirteen

He didn’t take in a minute of the show tonight; his mind was nowhere near the TV. He’d left it sitting on the porch beside Kendall. All he could think about was her body in various poses, all nude of course, and he’d have to do better at controlling his temper, or he’d never have the opportunity to have her again. “You’re a special kind of dick,” she’d said. He laughed out loud again, intrigued by the woman who thought to stand up to him, caught off guard too. All that teasing at the pub was so enticing and sexy as hell, and he loved the way she challenged him. He was so ready for more.

Myra looked over at him, like he was losing his mental faculties, and maybe he was. He’d taken to watching the professor whenever he could now. He hoped he wasn’t too obvious, but he watched her as she followed Myra around, helping her aunt. She was so very different from Celeste, so different from the many other women he’d dated. Anyway, the professor’s helpfulness was attractive, or maybe he was just thinking with his other head, which hadn’t let him rest since he’d tasted her in the trailer and in the backseat of his truck. He wanted the professor again so badly he could taste it.

No more getting angry, it said again, you will not screw this up for us. You are going to apologize to her again tonight before you leave. He chuckled again.

“You alright, Cooper?” Myra asked.

“I am,” he said, smiling. If he wasn’t now, he would be soon.

#

Kendall stood up, stretching her legs. She’d found a few mobile homes nearby, and she was going to drag Myra to the mobile-home park to check them out, maybe even as early as tomorrow. She stood on the front porch, thinking about him, of course, and his response to her questions. So defensive and touchy when it came to money. Yes, she understood his reasoning—after all, there were many women like her mother—but still, what a way to live a life, distrusting any and every one.

Well, he didn’t have to worry about her, she wanted to tell him; no way would she ever approach him for money. Her fear of being considered a gold digger was strong, so she could never get serious with him. She was only interested in the short term, her new mantra, an attempt to avoid falling for the soft-sided underbelly of Barnabus-the-man.

She waved to some of her aunt’s neighbors as they moved past, walking, jogging, strolling, surprised at the speed with which she’d made friends here. She was standing next to the porch’s railing when he stepped out an hour later. She looked up, not sure what to expect. She watched him walk over to stand beside her, placing his hands on the porch rail alongside hers.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

“For?” she asked, surprised by his apology.

“For accusing you again.”

“Apology accepted. Not everyone is after you or your money, you know. You really need to find a way to put whatever happened behind you,” she said.

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