Holding Out for a Hero (Baytown Heroes #9)

Chapter 4

4

Bess blinked open her eyes and stretched. Not having to wake early to get to the bakery was delightful. As she moved, her body slightly ached in places she hadn’t used recently. Remembering where she was and why, her sleepy smile widened. When she sat up, it was evident Brad wasn’t in the bedroom. She wondered if he was fixing breakfast and hopped out of bed. Snagging her clothes off the floor and chair, she grinned at the sight of his still tossed about the room. She darted into the bathroom, quickly took care of business, dressed, and hurried out.

She rounded the corner leading into the kitchen but didn’t see him. Glancing toward the living room, she found no evidence that he was around at all. Surprised, she walked to the window and peeked through the blinds, seeing his SUV was no longer parked next to her car. She turned around slowly, barely noticing his apartment as she tried to imagine where he would have gone.

“It’s one thing to leave someone else’s house to do the walk of shame,” she muttered. “But why would he leave his own house?” Looking toward the kitchen, she smiled. Maybe he went to get breakfast to bring back.

At that grin-inducing thought, she hurried back into the bedroom, determined to be useful and make his bedroom as neat as when she arrived. Staring at the messy bed, she had no idea if he wanted to wash the sheets, but since he wasn’t around to ask, she simply made the bed. A sly, little grin tugged the corners of her mouth as she thought of him crawling back in bed at the end of the day with the sheets smelling of the sugary scent he said he liked.

She tugged the comforter over the sheets and fluffed the pillows before tossing them back into place. A flutter of paper from the other side of the bed caught her eye. Walking around, she looked down to see a wad of cash and a single note on the nightstand. With a furrowed brow, she picked it up.

I had a great time. This is for you.

Her chest deflated painfully as the air rushed from her lungs, the sensation like being punched in the gut. Staring at the money and his note, she couldn’t catch her breath. Christ, does he pay for all his one-night hookups? She hadn’t been expecting roses, but the idea that he thought she expected payment cut so deeply that she looked down at her chest, surprised she wasn’t bleeding.

When the air finally sucked back into her lungs, a dull ache lingered, but she forced herself to breathe in and out as the shock dissipated, allowing dismay to settle into her brain. But soon, red-hot anger bubbled up from deep within. Seeing a pen lying on the floor, she grabbed it. Looking around, she searched for the pad of paper he’d used, but it was nowhere to be found. Undeterred in her fury, she snatched the note he’d left and scribbled at the bottom.

You can keep your money and kiss my cupcake ass!

Leaving the money and the note on the nightstand, she turned and stomped through his apartment. With her purse on her shoulder, she double-checked to ensure she had everything she needed. After all, she had no plans to talk to Brad again, much less be in his apartment.

Jogging down the steps, she marched to her car and climbed behind the steering wheel. She shook her head with one last glance up toward the second-floor apartment where she spent last night. She had known the score when she arrived here the previous evening—they’d made no promises of a future date. If it had only been a single hookup, she would’ve been disappointed but was prepared for that instance. But to be treated like she’d sold herself for an evening’s pleasure poured over her like a bucket of cold water, dousing any flames of passionate memories she had.

Her gaze landed on the Band-Aid still wrapped around her finger. Ripping it off, she winced at the pain. It was stupid to get rid of it, but she wanted nothing of his to stay with her. The last place she wanted to be was anywhere close to Brad. She squealed her tires as she pulled out of the parking lot and drove home.