Free Pick Me by Kristine Mason Page B

only allowed to see her for our dates, which according to the schedule the Production Manger emailed me, is every three days.”
    Ruger shoved his hat on his head. “Since when do you obey the rules? Do you know where she lives?”
    “Yeah.”
    “Why not pay her a visit, ya know, keep you on her mind.”
    Colt perked up at the idea, then shook his head in defeat. “I can’t, those horses I rescued are due to be delivered tomorrow afternoon.”
    Ruger shrugged. “I’ll take care of it. Just get your ass back to Dallas.”
    Wishing he was already there, lying next to Valentina—in a bed—Colt nodded as anticipation ran through his veins. Whether she liked it or not, he’d make sure the only man she’d be thinking about was him.

 
     
     
     
     
    Chapter 5
     
     
    Valentina slammed the car door shut, then crossed the parking lot toward the studio. She had no idea why Jonas had ordered her to meet him this morning at the ungodly hour of seven. Not that the early time mattered. After all the fresh air, the target practice, and of course, the way Colt had exerted her body yesterday, she should have slept like the dead. Instead, she’d tossed and turned throughout the night. Guilt had a funny way of doing that to her.
    God, how she hated lying, and right now she was lying to everyone. Colt, the other bachelors, even Derek and Jonas, who had coaxed her into this mess in the first place. 
    She released a deep sigh as she approached the double-wide, glass doors. Catching her reflection, she cringed. Thank God Goldie promised to stop by the apartment and fix her hair before her date with Trent tonight. Too bad the stylist/make-up artist couldn’t fix the mess Valentina had landed herself in, along with the lies, and her love life. How could she go on a date with Trent, when all she wanted to do was be with Colt? Have sex with Colt, she reminded herself, bound and determined to not confuse orgasms and romance.
    She swung open the door to the building that housed KJTQ-TV, the local news station where Derek had leased the studio, flashed her ID and murmured a good morning to the security guard. Winding her way to the back studio, she wondered for the umpteenth time why Jonas wanted to see her—alone. As she approached the stage, light gleamed off of Jonas’ shiny, shaved head.
    “Good morning,” she said, and plastered on a smile.
    Rather than return the greeting, Jonas leveled her with a calculating glare and motioned for her to follow him.
    Her skin prickled with unease. Her steps faltered. He knows.
    Impossible. She’d never told a soul about Denver. No one had been around then, nor yesterday when she and Colt were in the woods.
    Paranoia, that’s what she had a case of. From the guilt...and the lies. 
    The mental pep talk did her good until Jonas walked her into the editing room. She eyed the blank screens, then looked at the back of Jonas’ bald head. He might be the director, and she might have a lot at stake, but she was tired, grouchy, and in no mood for whatever game he was playing. “What are we doing here?” she asked, and dropped into a chair.
    He turned and raised a dark brow. “You honestly don’t know?”
    “I wouldn’t have asked if I did.” Duh. Okay, so she really shouldn’t mouth off at the director when she was a mere Production Assistant, but hell, he owed her a little respect. She was trying to save the show, and his ass.
    Pulling a bag from beneath one of the control panels, he removed the contents. “These are for you,” he said, and handed her two gaudy broaches and an equally tacky necklace with a large charm.
    She stared at the jewelry, which were so not her style, and looked as if he’d picked them up at a dollar store—on discount. “Thanks. But you didn’t have to do this.” Really, he didn’t. The stuff was junk. “I appreciate how you and Derek helped make me comfortable in my role as bachelorette. You know, with the apartment, the rental car, the clothes.”
    He