Home > Waiting for Snow (Sparks in Texas)(3)

Waiting for Snow (Sparks in Texas)(3)
Author: Mari Carr

End of story.

A one-night stand was all anyone had ever gotten as far as Adele knew. And lately, her powers of resistance had grown weak, and she’d spent way too much time wondering what it would take for her to get one of those magical nights.

So far, she’d resisted the temptation because the sensible part of her insisted that going to bed with Porter, even just for one night, would be a huge mistake.

For a couple reasons.

Unlike him, she didn’t do one-night stands. She’d had exactly two lovers in the past and both of them had been long-term boyfriends. She’d dated Alex all through her senior year in high school and he’d been her first. But then he’d gone off to college, and while they’d attempted the long-distance relationship, it had failed after a few months. He’d landed a job in Seattle after earning his degree, Maris forgotten as he took off for greener pastures.

She’d broken up with her last—and longest, most serious—boyfriend, Keith, a little over a year ago when he got a job promotion that required him to relocate to St. Louis. He’d begged her to come with him and she’d seriously considered the idea of following him, for weeks. She’d never felt so torn in her life. But in the end, she realized she’d never be happy living somewhere else. She would have been a fish out of water in a big city, and while Keith had been hurt, eventually he’d understood, offering her an open-ended invitation if she ever changed her mind.

Lately, she’d wondered if she should call him up to see if the offer still stood. After all, if she’d known how slim the pickings were in Maris, maybe she would have reconsidered that decision to move right from the beginning.

Because it had been a painful, lonely dry spell since then.

The other reason Adele believed sleeping with Porter would be a mistake was very simple. If the rumors about him were true, he’d probably ruin her for other men even worse than he already had with those three damn dances. While sex with Keith had been fine, she’d never felt the need to wax poetic about it the way Porter’s past lovers did after their encounters with him. All those rumors had fueled her curiosity, but she knew his bedroom abilities were something she was better off forgetting about.

Ignorance was bliss and all that jazz.

She was struggling hard enough to find a man as it was. She didn’t need Porter setting her bar any higher.

Of course, it wasn’t like Porter had given any indication of wanting to sleep with her anyway. They’d probably moved from acquaintances to friends simply because they were together more these days. After all, his best friend was married to her sister.

He chuckled. “Pretty sure I’m not a vampire. I just don’t need more than six hours sleep a night.”

Adele feigned a shudder. “Jesus. I’m a complete wreck on anything less than nine hours of shut-eye.”

Porter shook his head and grinned, drawing her attention to the deep dimples by his mouth. Ever since that first dance, she’d started noticing a lot of things about Porter she’d never seen before.

Like his dark brown eyes surrounded by laugh lines, earned through years of genuine, easygoing smiles.

Like his tanned complexion, thanks to long days spent working outside in the Texas sunshine.

Like his large, muscular frame that seemed to fill any room he walked into. He was half a foot taller than pretty much everyone around them, and his shoulders were broad, his hands huge. She could still remember the way his big hand had felt on the small of her back when he’d wrapped her up in his arms and twirled her around the dance floor.

Enough, Adele. Stop looking at the pretty cowboy.

“Night, Adele. Money’s on the table,” Mr. Powell called out from across the restaurant.

“Thanks. Y’all drive safe,” she said.

Porter rose and was just about to walk toward the door to lock it when the bell above it jingled and Nick walked in.

“Shit,” she muttered under her breath, loud enough to capture Porter’s attention, provoking a frown. He knew she’d been going out with Nick, but she wasn’t sure if he knew she’d broken things off.

Although Macie had probably told him.

Her sister told everybody everything.

Every-fucking-thing.

She forced a smile, though she was sure she’d missed the mark by a mile. “Hey, Nick. I was just about to close up.”

Nick nodded. “Yeah. Closing time. I was hoping…” He glanced at Porter. “Hoping to catch you alone so we could talk about some stuff.”

She didn’t have the energy for this. She really didn’t.

Adele shook her head. “I think we’ve said all that needed to be said.”

There was something in her genetic makeup that ensured she was always going to speak her mind in a disagreement, and she’d spoken her truth the night she’d broken things off with him. If there was one thing she couldn’t stand, it was people who minced their words. Nick was a big old mincer, the king of tiptoeing around his real thoughts, instead, trying to say what he thought she wanted to hear.

Although, she was aware she’d blindsided Nick when she’d called a halt to the whole relationship two seconds before they were about to hop into bed. He’d hemmed and hawed, completely gobsmacked as she’d hastily thrown her clothes back on before tossing his jeans at him.

She’d explained to Nick that while she thought he was a nice guy, she believed they’d be better off as friends. Granted, her timing hadn’t been great, considering she’d pulled away in the middle of a lame, uninspiring kiss. But given his lacking foreplay, she wasn’t about to go through with what was obviously going to be lackluster sex.

Life was too short for that shit.

She had genuinely liked Nick and had thought they might have a good time between the sheets, but that attraction had dried up after the twelfth time he’d asked, “What now? Tell me how you want me.”

Jesus, the guy had actually expected—needed—her to spell it all out for him, step by step, and that was when she realized they’d never work in the bedroom because they both resided on the submissive side of the equation, neither of them interested in the dominant role.

Adele didn’t let her thoughts linger on the fact she’d never even considered dominance and submission until Porter.

She really needed to stop listening to all the Porter stories.

“We were having such a good time.” Nick glanced at Porter pointedly, but the rugged cowboy wasn’t budging. Hell, he wasn’t even pretending he wasn’t listening to the entire conversation.

Adele fought not to laugh, grateful he was sticking around. She was dog-tired, and she hoped that Porter’s presence would discourage Nick from dawdling too long.

Of course, this was more backbone than she’d seen in Nick, which would have been helpful in her bedroom a couple weeks ago.

Now it just was annoying as hell.

She’d made the break and she wanted it to stay broken. As it turned out, hashing out why a relationship was broken after an eternal day at work landed at the very top on her list of shit she despised—right before pap smears and eating liver and onions.

Who knew?

“Nick,” she started.

“I want a second chance,” Nick interjected. “I can…do better. I’ve been…researching.”

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