Page 72 of Shut Up And Kiss Me

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And yet, it was all I could think about. Most men ordered me around and pretended I was too stupid to think for myself. Yet, when I argued with him over the pants, which was entirely stupid, he actually relented and gave me the jeans.

I was just messing with him, but when he chose to embarrass himself and hand over his dignity, I was impressed. No one ever did stuff like that for me.

I was Krista, the sassy cowgirl who always got her way. That’s what people saw. They never saw me as someone with a brain who could actually do something with her life other than clean the cottages or do the basics on the ranch.

My brothers knew I was capable of so much more, yet when we had the ranch, they always wanted to give me the safe jobs. The girly jobs. That was how I ended up cleaning the cottages.

If they knew anything about me, they would realize I had ideas, that I could run a better vacation destination than any of them. But to them, it was all about buildings, and that was something women didn’t do.

If only they realized that I designed my house all on my own. They thought someone else did it. I worked with the architect to create a masterpiece, and in the end, he got all the praise.

I was nothing and never would be in my family’s eyes. Just a dumb brunette with big boobs and a sassy smile.

Flopping back on the bed, I stared up at the ceiling and wished something could go differently in my life. This little adventure I was on gave me a spark of hope that I could have a different life.

That is, until the man I was falling for looked at me as purely sex on a stick. And the truth was, as much as I wanted to screw him and enjoy him while I could, that was sending off all the wrong vibes. That’s all he would see me as because that’s the way I presented myself.

Easy and willing to spread my legs.

Women couldn’t have it both ways. They couldn’t enjoy sex with a man without sending off all the wrong signals. If I slept with him too soon, I was easy. If I waited, all I wanted was a relationship. There was no in between.

“Do you need the shower?” Rob asked, disturbing my thoughts.

I sat up and sighed. “Yeah, I should probably take one.”

“The clothes will be up here soon. I’m guessing we’ll wander around the casino. See if anything triggers some memories.”

I nodded, getting to my feet, but I never made it to the bathroom. Rob slid his hand around my waist, gripping my hip. I inhaled his clean scent, wondering what it would be like to smell that every morning.

“You okay?” he asked, taking me by surprise.

“Of course.” I gave a fake smile because that’s all I had left in me.

He studied me for a minute, like he could actually see through my stony exterior I’d erected. “You sure?”

“Why wouldn’t I be? I mean, we’re on the run. I have no memory of anything that happened between us, and we’re?—”

I stopped myself just as I was about to mention that we were married. That might give away too much of the reason I was feeling a little depressed.

“We’re what?”

“In each other’s way,” I said, hoping that would do the trick. “I mean, neither of us can move on with life as long as these guys are after us. Kind of puts a crimp in my plans,” I grinned.

“Right. Gotta get back to the ranch.”

I thought I detected a hint of anger in his words, but his easy smile made me second-guess everything.

“Well, I should get cleaned up.”

I slipped past him and quickly showered, doing my best not to think of his sexy body, the way his smile sent shivers down my spine, or how much I desperately wanted him to ask me just one personal question that would hint he was interested in something other than my vagina.

By the time I was done, I was worked up into a state of anger that would only make things worse for everyone. Wrapping a towel around myself, I dried my hair with the styling cream and brush that were on the counter for me. I wasn’t foolish enough to think that Rob got it for me. Maybe it was complimentary or something.

With no idea how fancy this thing was going to be, I pulled my hair back in a low twist that only half held my hair up, then draped it over my shoulder. I thought it looked pretty, but then again, I might be completely overstyled for whatever we were about to do.

My anger had subsided just a little as I yanked the door open, and I was surprised to find a dress hanging on the back of it, and it was most definitely not something I would ever wear.

Ranchers didn’t tend to wear sparkles or high-slits in their dresses. Nor something that was so low cut.