Every Sweet Regret (Orchid Valley 2)

I’ll be damned if I’m going to go over there and have her tease me more while I rub sunblock on her back. I’m a little buzzed and don’t trust my hands.

Me: I’m sure Dean would do that for you. I’m busy.

Stella: Um, my brother could not, would not do the kind of lotion application I have in mind. And you’re drinking a beer by your pool. How busy can you be?

Me: I’ve found myself with a Random profile. I guess I need to decide if I’m going to delete it or check it out.

Stella: Random, huh? Bold move.No shit. Going from no love life at all to using a hookup app kind of feels like jumping into the deep end. Assuming the deep end is ice-cold and shark-infested.

Since my divorce, I haven’t been interested in dating. I’m not even sure how dating works when it’s just casual, when you’re not looking for a partner. But Stella would know. She’s all fun and wild impulse. Honestly, if I’m going to do this, she might be the best person to get advice from. The problem is, I don’t want advice from Stella. I want something altogether riskier. And I’ve wanted it for a long while now.

I’ve been attracted to Stella since long before I was married. It never meant anything, and I never planned to act on it. I brushed it off as a physiological response to a hot woman. Then, sometime in the past couple of months, something clicked in my brain. We could stop dancing around each other and enjoy ourselves. If she wants me and I want her, we could do this. That doesn’t mean it’s not a bad idea, but ever since I allowed myself to really consider it, I can’t stop considering.

Stella: I’m personally on hiatus, but I might open the app again if you’ll be on there. ;)

Me: I could use some casual fun—not exactly ready for the real thing. That said . . . I’m still not sure the app’s for me.

Stella: You’re recently divorced and don’t want to find Hope her stepmom just yet. I feel ya.I shouldn’t be surprised she understands how I feel about getting involved with someone. Stella and I might not be close, but we have the same circle of friends. She knows me and my situation. Maybe I haven’t given her enough credit.

Me: I’m new to this . . . Is casual possible? As in, sex with no expectations?Am I a manipulative ass to put it out there like that? Jesus. I pride myself in being honest and straightforward. In my work. In my relationships. Can I really tell Stella I want to do dirty, dirty things to her with the caveat that she has to promise not to catch feelings?

Stella: It’s possible. Are you telling me you’ve NEVER hooked up with someone? As in no-strings-attached hooked up?

Me: It’s never been my style.

Stella: What’s nice about Random is you don’t have to have the awkward conversation. If you meet on there, what you’re looking for is understood. Just be safe, okay?

Me: You say that like you’re sending me off into battle.

Stella: I kind of feel like I am.I look up from my phone, and she’s holding up three fingers in the Hunger Games salute. I laugh and watch as she taps out another message.

Stella: The girls on there are going to gobble you up. And fuuuuuck . . .How can one intentionally misspelled curse have me half hard? Probably because I can practically hear her saying it, and the sound is accompanied by a vivid image. I’d peel off those bikini bottoms, then slide my mouth over her belly—lower—and she’d close her eyes and her lips would part on the word and . . . Fuuuuuck.

Me: What???

Stella: I’m just jealous. You put ideas in my head, looking at me the way you did last night. . . I’ll get over it. I always do.I blame the potent combo of good beer, too much sun, and that hot-as-fuck bikini for the reply I type out next.

Me: Don’t do that. You want something from me, come and get it.I’m not drunk by any means, but I’m just relaxed enough that my guard is down. What would happen if we were the only ones here right now? I’d drag her inside and show her just what I wanted to do that night she crawled into my bed. I can’t imagine how we could do that without changing . . . everything, but lately I’ve been less and less worried about the consequences of acting on this attraction. We’re adults. We can figure it out.

Stella: You’re killing me. I need it straight up—is this heading toward you fucking me against the wall in the pool house, or should I brace myself for the lonely company of my hand tonight?