Free Clutch (Custom Culture) by Tess Oliver

feminine side every once in awhile. Even if you’re a grizzly .”
    The guy was still on the phone, which could have been good or bad. “Feminine side, bullshit. Besides, you’re the one everyone calls pretty.”
    Nix rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah, I don’t know which is worse, grizzly or pretty. But now that Barrett is back, maybe I can hand the pretty title over. He sort of stepped into my shoes once you and I left high school.”
    “Nothing pisses him off more than to be called pretty.” The old guy was off the phone and glancing around for us. He must have been nearsighted because I was hard to miss.
    “Well, it looks like we have a deal at forty-five.”
    I kept up my stiff, non-committal exterior and held back the Tarzan yell that was lodged in my throat. We shook on it and made arrangements to meet at the bank in the morning. I’d needed this to go well. Rotten shit had been happening all week, and this had definitely brought me out of my funk.
    Nix peered sideways at me as we walked away and laughed. “It’s all right if you want to do a victory dance. I don’t think the guy could see too well.”
    I punched the air. “I’m so fucking jazzed right now, I don’t even mind talking to Jason.” I pulled out my phone. “And since the money is half his. . . ”
    Nix stopped. “I’m going over to the pastrami truck. Do you want me to order you a sandwich?”
    “Yeah, but get me two.” I dialed Jason. “I’ll be over there in a second.” The great weather had brought a big crowd, and between the music blaring from car radios and the conversations drifting around me, I couldn’t hear a thing. I walked through the maze of people to the gray brick building that housed the bathrooms. Jason didn’t answer so I left a message. “Hey, I got it at forty-five—”
    She came around the corner, unexpectedly and like a hurricane of stars. My mind went completely blank. I hung up and stuck the phone in my pocket.
    Taylor’s long lashes curtained her smooth cheeks as she dropped her gaze.
    The adrenaline rush left behind from getting my hands on a Shelby morphed into an explosion of every emotion I’d ever felt. I lunged forward and grabbed her hand. She gasped as I dragged her around the back of the building. I pressed her up against the bricks and stared down at her.
    Her chin jutted forward as she lifted her face to me and then without warning her hand came up and she slapped me hard. I didn’t move but my face stung plenty.
    “You could have cared less when my parents shipped me off.” Her eyes glistened with tears.
    I shook my head. “Not true, Taylor. It was just easier—”
    She slapped me again. “It was easier for me to be gone.” She was not a girl that cried easily, but now the tears streamed down her cheeks.
    This time I stretched open my mouth to get the sting out. “Shit, Taylor, would you let me talk.” I grabbed hold of her arms. “It was easier for me not to say good-bye.” And then every suppressed urge I’d ever had to kiss her, and there had been many, erupted. My fingers squeezed her thin arms as I lifted her toward me. My mouth devoured hers and any ounce of self-control was gone. I pulled her so hard against me, she groaned softly against my mouth. As my mind warned me against it, my hands smoothed over the slim curve of her hips and bottom, the sweet little bottom that I’d dreamt about countless times. She leaned harder against me, assuring me that I could have her completely. And there was nothing I wanted more. But it was far more complicated than that. Breathless, I reluctantly pulled my mouth from hers and wrapped my arms around her.
    “Do you know how long I’ve waited for you to do that,” she said softly against my neck.
    “I doubt as long as I’ve wanted to do it.” I rested my chin on the top of her head, but she pulled away to stare up at me.
    Her perfect, plump lips looked swollen from the kiss. “Why didn’t you ever kiss me then?”
    “You’re