Drive Me Wild (Ridden Hard, #4) Page 2

  “Thanks.” He eyed the seat, and decided it had been wiped down enough to be safe, before sitting.

  “A group like yours is celebrating. What’s the big event? You’re getting married, aren’t you?”

  Not anytime soon. It was going to be a long time before he found someone like Trina, but who loved Mason and not some random billionaire. “No. I’m moving tomorrow. This is my brother’s way of giving me a proper send-off.”

  “That’s cool.” She sounded sincere. “Where are you going?”

  “The west coast.” He didn’t want to give too much away. It felt odd diving into a conversation like this with a stranger, but at the same time it was comfortable.

  “Very cool. For work?”

  “Work and a girl.” He hid his wince. That came out wrong. He wasn’t going back for Trina.

  She smiled knowingly. “Hence the lack of desire for a lap dance.”

  “Is this where you tell me what she doesn’t know won’t hurt me?”

  “God no. This is where I respect whatever arrangement the two of you have, and assume you won’t keep this a secret from her.”

  “She’d probably laugh at the story.” Mason could picture the conversation. Not that it mattered, because technically there was no she, even if Trina was the other half of the scene in his head.

  The redhead sat straight-backed in the stool, legs crossed at the knee. She could have been wearing a full-length skirt and high-collar shirt and still looked at ease in here. “She sounds like fun.”

  “She is. She’s amazing.” This was part of a narrative, to make conversation easier. The relationship behind it didn’t have to be real.

  “What are you going to tell your brother when he asks how your private show was?”

  Mason fumbled with the rapid shift in subject, and his brain failed to keep up. “That it was perfect.”

  Her smile grew brighter, lighting up her eyes. She really was gorgeous. Any other time and place, he’d be a little dumbstruck by her. It was easier to let the words flow when he’d seen someone pay her to talk to him. “What if he prods for details?” she asked.

  “I’ll keep my mouth shut, and he’ll fill in whatever details he’d like.” Something occurred to Mason, and he frowned. “Though, that’ll besmirch your reputation.”

  “Besmirch? It wouldn’t be the first time. I think I can handle it.”

  “Do you like your job, or are you just a good actress?” He shouldn’t have asked that. He’d gone too far.

  Her smile never wavered. “Part of the job is being a good actress. But I’m not faking it with you, and I promise I’m too vocal to lie about something like that. What about you? What do you like about your job?”

  “It lets me think. There’s always a new challenge. What do you like about yours?”

  “Hearing about other people’s lives. What kind of work do you do?”

  They spent the rest of the hour swapping random bits of small talk. What did he do in his spare time? Was he looking forward to the move?

  When Mason walked out of the room, he realized she’d deftly kept the conversation on him so well he didn’t even get her name.

  It was a lot of fun, though. He was smiling as he stepped into a quiet corner to check his phone. He unlocked the screen, and Trina’s wedding announcement blinked back at him.

  He should probably stop moping over that. She should have been his. He’d missed his chance and didn’t know why.

  It was in the past now. He was only going to the wedding to say good luck. He wasn’t the creepy dude who was going to try and win back the woman who had already moved on. The fun they had together was in the past.

  He reached their table just as his best friend and roommate, Max, was standing to leave.

  “Hey, I’m glad you’re back,” Max said. “I have to bail.”

  “No worries. I’ll catch up with you at home. Everything all right?”

  Max looked apologetic. “I mean I have to bail on the trip. Jill went into labor two weeks early and her husband is on a business trip. She needs someone to watch the kids.”

  Jill was Max’s sister.

  “Congratulations to her. Bummer for me, but it’s for a good cause.”

  “You sure it’s not a big deal?” Max asked. He was supposed to split the cost of gas with Mason, and keep him company on the drive to Malibu. Max had never been farther than Alabama before, and wanted to see the country.

  Mason nodded. “That’s exciting. Send pics of the munchkin.”

  He walked Max to the parking lot, then Mason sank into his car when his friend was gone. He was genuinely happy for Max’s family, but this put a big crimp in Mason’s plans. He’d spent most of his savings being down here without steady work for the last year, and the rest was set aside for this trip—including split expenses.

  Mason didn’t know if he had enough to make it across the country without a road trip buddy.

  CHAPTER THREE

  When Mason got back to the apartment, Max’s car was already in their other assigned spot.

  Mason found his soon-to-be-former roommate inside. Max shoved clothes and toiletries into a duffel bag.

  “You sure you’re going to be all right?” Max asked.

  Mason shrugged. “If I drive straight through, sleep at rest stops, and scavenge snacks from the kitchen before I go, I’ll be fine.”

  “You could do a ride share. You know, post on Craig’s List. See if anyone else is going at least part way there.”

  He doubted the wisdom of sharing at least three days in the car with Max, and they were best friends. Riding with a stranger... “That sounds like a bad plot twist waiting to happen.”

  “Doesn’t hurt to give it a look. Toss out the feelers. If someone nibbles, meet them first, and if you click, go for it. Otherwise, be on your way.”

  Was bad company better than no company at all? He’d rather not find out one way or the other, but there was no harm in looking. “All right.”

  GINNY TOLD HER OLD boss she was eternally grateful for him letting her work one more shift.

  Between the going away party and a couple of regulars, Ginny had a better night than she’d expected. The five-hundred bucks wasn’t a lot, she’d need at least one-hundred of that for a storage unit, but it was a start.

  And talking to the guest of honor was as nice way to punctuate her last night at the place. Not only was he friendly and well-spoken, but he was hot. Tattoos wove around well-muscled arms, and vanished into the sleeves of a T-shirt that showed off the slightest hint of a tummy.

  He looked warm and cuddly and sweet. And was probably on the other end of the spectrum from a selfish lay. Ginny was a little jealous of the girlfriend who got to be wrapped up with him. Maybe the girlfriend would lend him out for the night. Ginny didn’t want to steal him, just find out what he was like to cuddle with.

  Especially with those captivating dark eyes that tried to search her soul.

  She shook the memory off, and dove back into the task at hand.

  She sat in her apartment in front of her laptop. The light from the screen cast eerie shadows in the dark room, making the boxes surrounding her, look more threatening.

  The cheapest plane tickets she could get in the next week were double what she had. Train tickets were better, but still not doable.

  Why had she sold her car? Right, because the odds were high it would have died before she reached Texas.

  She didn’t know what else to do. She Googled Take me to California cheap.

  The paid results were what she expected—the same travel sites she’d already tried.

  Rideshareusa.com. Go where you need to, and split the costs.

  That had the potential to be thoroughly disappointing. Ginny clicked through anyway. No harm in looking.

  She typed in a starting and ending location, and was surprised when one result came back. They were heading to Malibu. About a billion miles closer to San Francisco than she expected to get.

  And by the
time she arrived, her bank issue should be cleared up, and she’d have money in her wallet again.

  She fired off an email, and was surprised to get a response almost immediately. Was it good or bad that this person was up at two am? Then again, so was she, and who cared what they did with their night as long as everyone involved consented?

  Coffee at three tomorrow? It said his name was Mason.

  Generic enough name. Sure, she replied. She made a note of the time and place.

  If this didn’t work out, she was fucked. She wished she could postpone the trip until her money was free, but her boss expected her in a week, and her bank couldn’t guarantee they’d have things fixed by then.

  She could call them back and say never mind or I’ll be a few days late. That was a last resort. She’d struggled as it was to find anyplace willing to talk to her once they saw her resume. Ginny couldn’t guarantee the stripping closed doors for her, but the odds seemed good that had been the case.

  Sleep didn’t come easily. She tossed and turned most of the night, inventing countless scenarios and solutions, that all ended with her being stuck in this place forever.

  She finally drifted off several hours later, and woke to a pounding on her door.

  She shook off the drowsiness, and dragged herself out of bed. Sunlight struck her face through uncovered windows. Stupid mornings. Why couldn’t she crawl back into her hazy dream, where she was curled up in muscled and tattooed arms of a brown-eyed teddy bear who saw into her soul and never flinched?

  Pieces clicked in her head, and panic race through her. If the sun was that high, her friends were the ones hammering for her to open up.

  She raked her fingers through her hair and let Shannon and Colleen in. “I’m so sorry. I worked a closing shift.” Ginny had emailed her med school friends last night, after she talked to work, to beg for help moving her stuff into storage.

  “No worries. Kind of figured.” Shannon handed her a large coffee and a paper bag with what was probably a chocolate muffin.

  Colleen brushed past them both. “Eat. Drink. Let’s make a plan.” She ticked her finger in the air, toward each towering stack of boxes. “The different sizes are going to make this more complicated.”

  Ginny stuck her tongue out at the back of Ginny’s head. “It was cheaper to snag them from the grocery store than pay a billion bucks a box from a trucking company.” She sipped her coffee and sighed in contentment when the warm liquid hit her stomach.

  “I said more complicated, I didn’t say bad.” Colleen spun back to face them. “I got Dave’s pickup. We can do this in two trips. Did you pick a storage place?”

  “I thought I’d try that one down on Peachtree.”

  “The one across the bridge?” Shannon asked.

  Ginny shook her head. “Not that Peachtree. The one just a few miles from here.”

  Colleen twisted her mouth. “Did you call first?”

  “No. But their website says they opened at nine, so we can just drop in.” Ginny could keep a schedule when it was required, but if it wasn’t, she was happier to play things by ear.

  Her friends started packing the truck while Ginny finished her breakfast. She was going to miss them. They’d kept her sane when the hours between work and school seemed impossible. But they’d promised to visit each other whenever time and money allowed.

  She wasn’t going to miss this place, though. The housing wasn’t bad. The judgement and whispers got a little old. The general public could take their haughty views on stripping, and shove them up their collective asses. But it would be nice if her job hadn’t limited so many of her options.

  The three squeezed into the truck, with Ginny in the back seat of the extended cab. At the storage place, they had to wait forty-five minutes to speak with someone, who pointedly reminded Ginny she could have made an appointment.

  Colleen’s, “Right?” Was so Colleen it made Ginny laugh.

  The guy showed her an available unit, and ran through a recited list of rules, restrictions, and other fine print. The entire time, he looked between them, mostly at their chests.

  When he got to the price for a month, including deposit, a lock, and the insurance that wasn’t required, but was most certainly recommended, Ginny was out double what she’d budgeted for.

  Well, fuck. She handed over the money reluctantly. She could spend the next few days shopping for a different spot, but they were here, and she was running out of time.

  Things better work with this Mason guy. Even sharing the cost of gas, she wouldn’t have much cash for anything else. If they drove straight through, and she lived on store brand chips and soda, she could still afford the trip.

  She’d been looking forward to eating whatever she wanted, now that her body didn’t earn her paycheck. That would have to wait another week.

  She and her friends shifted her belongings into the storage unit. They were on the way back to her place when her phone rang.

  Ginny answered immediately when she saw her bank’s name on the screen.

  Her insides twisted in on themselves as the woman explained there were new issues with her account. Several checks for large amounts, all signed by Ginny, had been cashed at various places in the state and neighboring ones.

  “We’re canceling your account,” the woman said.

  “What? No. Why? I reported yesterday that all of my information was stolen.”

  “Bless your heart, hon. All of these were written before yesterday.”

  Well, fuck.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Ginny bit the inside of her cheek, measuring her response. She was going to unleash verbal hell on someone the instant she knew her account wasn’t in jeopardy. Until then, she was going to be as sweet as sugar to every single haughty, condescending bank employee she talked to. “I understand. Who do I need to speak to in order to discuss this further, and which branch can I meet them at an hour from now?”

  “I’m sorry. The decision has already been made.”

  Bullshit. “That’s not what I asked.” Ginny kept the venom from her reply. “I’ve been a member for nearly a decade. That has to count for something. Who do I need to speak to and where can I meet them?”

  The woman gave her a name and a branch address. “These decisions can’t be reversed.”

  Ginny would see about that. “I understand you believe that. Thank you for your time. I’ll be sure to mention how helpful you’ve been to the manager I speak with. Have a lovely day.”

  She let out a low growl and flipped off her phone the instant she disconnected.

  Shannon twisted in the passenger seat. “What’s up?”

  Ginny repeated the conversation for her friends.

  “You were nicer than I would have been.” Collen parked in front of Ginny’s place.

  “Trust me, they’ll hear it soon enough. I’m sorry to ask, but can we pick this up in a couple of hours?” Shit. She was supposed to meet Mason this afternoon. “Or... tonight?”

  “Don’t even worry about it,” Shannon said. “Take a shower so the bank has one less reason to be pretentious and snooty, and we’ll take care of this while you’re talking to them.”

  Ginny wanted to protest, mostly for show, but she wasn’t talking herself out of their generosity. “Thank you so much, I owe you, big time.”

  “No you don’t.” Colleen nudged her toward the house. “You would do, and have done, at least as much for us.”

  Gratitude surged inside. Ginny was going to seriously miss her friends.

  WHEN GINNY GOT TO THE coffee shop, her face was hot and her hair stuck to her skin. Facing down a bank manager without losing her cool, was a much different kind of exertion than wrapping herself around a pole in an air-conditioned club. She’d very patiently pointed out that the signature on every bad check was identical to each other, and not the one on the contract she’d signed with the moving company.

  The instant she was assured her account had been restored, and the investigation into her other claims
would continue, she let the man behind the desk know exactly what she thought of his policies, willingness to jump to conclusions, and overall idiocy.

  Several people were in line ahead of her, and even more dotted the tables in the small cafe. Why were there so many people here on a Tuesday afternoon? She wanted to scream “Don’t you people have jobs?”

  She needed to get her temper under control. And email Mason. She should have asked how to spot him, but she didn’t expect to have so many choices.

  The door chimed, and everyone including Ginny, turned toward the sound. Most of them went back to their own little circles immediately. It was the guy from last night. The cuddly-looking one with the girlfriend on the west coast.

  When he met her gaze, she smiled and waved. He looked away quickly.

  Of course he did.

  She was used to people not wanting to be seen with the girl they’d paid the night before to take her clothes off.

  Today, however, irritation already coursed through her veins. Not caring that she’d lose her place in line, she stalked toward Mr. IT-Guy-With-The-Muscles-And-Tattoos. “Now we don’t know each other?” She poured the honey into her voice, and letting it thicken her drawl.

  His eyes grew wide—they really were gorgeous, her memory understated them—and he shook his head. “Technically... no. I didn’t even get your name.”

  She could turn this into a shouting match, but she wasn’t interested in making a scene or embarrassing him in front of these strangers. She just wanted him to admit why it was okay to talk to her in a dark room, but not in a well-lit coffee shop.

  “It’s Ginny. There, now we’re acquainted. Still embarrassed to be seen with me?”

  His wince wasn’t comforting.

  “You didn’t even do anything in there.” Her temper was running away with her, and she was about to take a couple of bad days out on this poor guy when he didn’t deserve it. She tried to calm herself down, but only partly succeeded. “You said you’d tell your girlfriend about it, and have a good laugh. You’re embarrassed about that?”