A Bet Worth Making (Grayson County #2)

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Book: Read A Bet Worth Making (Grayson County #2) for Free Online
Authors: Heather Hildenbrand
safer to stare down the bag.
    Instead of being angry at her condescending tone, I was intrigued. You little rascal, Frank . I hadn’t seen this coming, not one bit. It wasn’t like I took on female roommates. As a rule, I avoided it. Ever since college when my roommate, Kevin, had let his sister stay with us and then he’d found her and I conserving space by sharing a bed. One thing led to another and I left with a black eye—and no home to go back to. Never again, I’d said to myself.
    I narrowed my eyes as that memory faded into this moment. Was Frank trying to fix me up? He had to know that never ended well in a roomie situation. Or maybe he didn’t. Frank was from the “do what’s proper era” and hadn’t fit in then either. Who knew what he’d been thinking.
    “Huh,” I said again.
    “You sound like Frank,” she said. I decided not to try and answer that one. “Ugh. I can’t believe I sat out here all freakin’ afternoon just so Frank could fix me up with his redneck son.”
    “Whoa, whoa, sweetheart,” I said, catching her elbow before she could stomp off. Her eyes widened in surprise, but I kept my most backwoods drawl in my words and narrowed my eyes at her. “Rednecks don’t do it for you, fine. No need to go name-calling. I’m just as surprised as you are about this.”
    She sighed, her hair fluttering along her lashes before sticking to her forehead again. “Right. Sorry.” She shook her head and again, I was mesmerized by the way her damn hair moved. “I’m grumpy from the heat. And my car died. And now you’re here and I don’t have a place to go and—”
    She broke off and descended the steps, shoving her half-crumpled beer can into my hands. Her eyes, the color of a crisp mountain spring, found mine and bored holes. I could almost taste the mad rolling off her. And I would’ve felt bad for being partly responsible for her anger, if I hadn’t been so busy inhaling the scent of her perfume. It was a musky scent that was somehow fragile and fancy all at once. The evidence of perspiration and the trace of beer only added to the assault on my senses.
    I drank it in, wanting nothing more than to lean closer and drown myself in it. In her. My jeans tightened again and I blinked myself back to the present. Dammit, she was speaking, and I had no idea what she’d just said.
    “What?” I asked, trying to get my bearings.
    “I said I drank your last beer.” Her tone had gone from apologetic to accusing again and I’d somehow missed what had brought on the change. “It’s the least you could do for leaving me stranded out here.” She whirled and retrieved her bag from the porch, stomping down the steps and headed for the edge of the house.
    “Where are you going?” I asked, confused and determined to catch up. Damn this girl had mood swings.
    “Anywhere but here,” she snapped without turning back.
    Her attitude alone probably made her too much trouble, but watching the curve of her ass as she made her exit was too much to let go so easily. Besides, the sun was already setting and, by the looks of it, she didn’t even have a car.
    “Wait,” I called.
    She didn’t. I hadn’t expected her to.
    I jogged to catch up and then finally stepped in front of her, blocking her path. She scowled. “What?”
    “Did you see the room?” I asked. She didn’t answer but she didn’t stomp off, either. I held up the beer. “I’m assuming someone came by and let you in.”
    Her chin jutted out. More attitude. Defensiveness. “I didn’t break in if that’s what you’re asking. Summer unlocked it, showed me around.”
    So Summer knew. And she hadn’t called to warn me. She’d pay for that.
    I kept my expression neutral and nodded. “What’d you think?”
    Her anger dialed back. She regarded me with a wry look. “I think you need to do the dishes.”
    I bit back a snicker or the urge to tell her I was hoping that would be her job. Something told me that wouldn’t go over well here.

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