How to Misbehave (Camelot 1)

And everything about her turbocharged with sex.

“No, he’s still here, too. What? None of your business. No. Seriously, no, just stop. I’m going. Goodbye.”

She leaned over the counter to hang up the phone, and her khakis tightened over a million-dollar ass.

How had he missed that ass?

He was still trying to wipe the image from his mind when Amber walked over, looked outside, and saw her car.

“Oh my gosh! Noooooo!”

She flung open the door and ran into the lot, and Tony had to follow her, because … well, he just had to.

He picked his way across the lot, avoiding the deepest puddles until he reached her side. She was standing ten feet away from her car with both hands over her mouth. The rain plastered strands of loose hair to her face and made her pants stick to her thighs. “I just paid it off!”

“That sucks.”

“I mean, I just paid it off. Last week! I was so happy! And now it’s wrecked.”

“It’s insured?”

“Of course it’s insured, but for Pete’s sake! This isn’t fair! I just want to—I don’t even know!”

She stomped her foot, spraying water all over his legs.

“Sorry!”

“No worries.”

“Gosh darn it!”

Her hands were curled into fists, her face was red, and she looked as though the top of her head might pop off if she didn’t calm down soon. “You ever consider saying a swear word or two?” he asked. “Just to take the edge off?”

“You mean like ‘fuck’?”

“Exactly.”

“Does that help?”

“Helps a lot.”

She glanced over at the wreckage. The branch lay across the crumpled hood. It had punched a hole in the windshield, which meant the interior was probably full of water. The roof was half caved in, too.

“I hate that motherfucking tree!” she cried.

“Now you’re talking.”

“Stupid sonofabitching tree killed my car!” Amber stalked across the wet lawn to the trunk of the offending oak tree, hauled off, and kicked it.

Not a good idea. She squealed, picked up her hurt foot, and started hopping around. He was on his way over to see if he could help when she slipped in the wet grass and fell. Then she flopped onto her back and started laughing.

“Oh, my God! I can’t believe this fucking day.”

When Tony reached her, she was just sitting up. Her skin looked all gray and splotchy in the weird light. Her hair stuck to her face, and she was soaked and starting to shiver.

But she was smiling at him.

The unbridled joy in that smile struck him like a punch. Nobody looked at him like that, with such open, boundless optimism. Her car was a crumpled wreck, and still she beamed, her dimple winking at him, her big, brown eyes promising there had to be a sunny side to everything.