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me. “No ‘ or ’. No.” I shoved on his chest, pushing him away for the second time today. How many times would I have to do this in one twenty-four hour period? In a week? In a month? Would this guy ever get the message?
     
    What happened that day, years ago, was a mistake and I had vowed never to repeat it. I meant to keep that vow. No matter what.
     
    The towel gripped in one fist, I pushed past him. “Fine. I’ll get dressed. Give me a few minutes.”
     
    “Damn, I was hoping you’d go for option two.”
     
    “Not a chance in hell,” I shot back.
     
    His laughter followed me into my room.
     
    Adrenaline pumping, blood rushing, heart throbbing, I slammed the door.
     
    Why, oh, why did I have to feel this way about such a jerk? What was causing this disconnect between my brain and body?
     
    As irritated with myself as I was with the jerk in question, I gathered my hair into a messy, soggy knot on top of my head, stomped into a long cotton skirt, yanked on a T-shirt and shoved my feet into a pair of tennis shoes. Then I grabbed my bag.
     
    “Ready to go,” I announced.
     
    Next to the door, Clay pulled it open and waved me out first.
     
    I felt his leering gaze on my ass as I stormed down the steps.
     
    What the hell was I doing, going anywhere with this jerk? Favor or no, he was my employee.
     
    This was wrong. And stupid. And totally unnecessary.
     
    And it would not happen again.
     
    Ever.
     
    Because I was done lusting for the bad boys. Done.

 
     
     
     

     
Chapter 5
     
    When Clay had told me we were having dinner tonight, I hadn’t known what to expect.
     
    This was definitely a suprise.
     
    I mean, true, the restaurant options were extremely limited out here in Nowheresville. It was a long drive to find anything remotely decent—as in, served food on genuine plates instead of paper wrappers. But I had still expected, and dressed for, a dinner out. At a restaurant . With tables. And people. And service.
     
    Not out, as in, out in the middle of a freaking pasture .
     
    A large bonfire heated my face as I sat, in my skirt, staring into the dancing flames, poking at the embers with a stick. Two steaks the size of my freaking head were sizzling on top of a homemade grill setup, built with a wire mesh resting on top of stacked stones. The smell of burning meat wafted my way with every breeze. Even to my vegetarian nose, I had to admit the smell was making my mouth water.
     
    I hadn’t eated a single bite of animal flesh since the last time I’d visited Aunt Sandee, the summer before my freshman year of college. I’d decided to go vegetarian after watching a video about how industry farmed animals are handled and slaughtered. Horrifying. All my life I’d seen how my aunt had cared for her animals on her small ranch. I hadn’t realized it was different from the way the larger farms operated. The shock had been enough to make me stop eating any meat that was sold in chain grocery stores. And since that was all I could find where I lived…you get the picture.
     
    So there I was, about to eat my first bite of beef in four years.
     
    Proclaiming the slabs of cow flesh done, Clay forked them onto plates he’d stowed in his picnic box and handed me a plate, knife, and fork. Then he produced a bottle of wine and poured us both a glass.
     
    I stared down at the grilled meat, juices running from it, filling the plate. My stomach rejoiced. My mind wasn’t as enthusiastic. I hacked a tiny piece off and reluctantly slipped it between my lips.
     
    I chewed. Delicious flavor filled my mouth. Rich and juicy and savory.
     
    “Good?” Clay asked.
     
    I nodded. “Surprisingly.”
     
    “I’m not surprised. I’ve been told a time or two I grill a mean steak.”
     
    Cocky and arrogant as usual.
     
    But that didn’t stop me from gobbling down that steak. I ate almost half, which was way more than I expected. And when I was done, I sat back and groaned. If I tried to stand up and walk