Page 10 of Ready, Willing and Abel

Tish bangs her knuckles on the door.

“Too fucking early,” I say again.

“I don’t know what the fuck you’re thinking—” comes muttered from the other side of the door. “Knocking⁠—”

But the words die on Cactus Girl’s lips the minute she sees us.

“Oh, uh, hello,” she says. Then the goats gather around her and pour out onto the porch. “Oh damn, sorry. We had a thunderstorm last night, and they don’t like the loud noises.”

Tish is shrieking and holding her bag above her head.

“They won’t hurt you,” Cactus Girl says.

I could give a shit about Tish or the goats because I’ve just realized what my mystery girl is wearing. Or rather not wearing. She’s standing there in a tank top and panties. That’s it. Her nipples are hard little points that press against the thin fabric of her shirt. There’s a cartoon image of a cactus on the shirt and the words “Don’t Be a Prick.”

That makes me laugh.

“Babies!” She says loudly. “Go to your pen.”

The goats file away, heading towards a fenced-in area next to the house.

She goes to step off the porch and follow them, but I touch her arm. “I’ll put them in. You should probably put on some pants.”

Her eyes widen as she glances down at herself.

“Oh my God. Just kill me now. Yes. Please and thank you.” Then she rushes back into the house.

I follow the goats, leaving Tish behind to gather herself . But the time I’m finished getting the goats all locked into their pen, Tish and Cactus Girl are sitting in the living room.

“Are you sure you don’t want any coffee or anything?” she asks Tish.

My publicist has a “do you smell that?” look on her face. I shoot her a glare.

“The goats are house-trained. Just so you know,” Cactus Girl says.

I notice she’s put on a t-shirt and a pair of cut-off shorts. The frayed denim draws my eyes to her thick thighs, and I get the sudden urge to grip them, spread them. My dick twitches.

Nope. Gotta shut down those thoughts. I will not get an erection in the same space as my publicist.

“I’m sure you’re familiar with Abel Cartwright,” Tish begins.

Cactus Girl’s lips fold in on themselves as if she’s hiding a smile. She nods.

“Obviously with him being an international superstar⁠—”

“Tish, don’t be obnoxious.” I step forward and hold my hand out to the curvy bombshell. “Abel, nice to actually meet you, and I apologize in advance for what’s about to happen.”

She smiles up at me, full and bright, and I swear to fuck my heart flips over like a dog on its back asking for belly rubs.

“Esme Morales,” she says.

Esme. Damn, that’s really pretty. She’s really pretty.

I step away from her and lean against the wall. There’s a chair available, but I’m feeling that restless energy surging through my body. I haven’t gone for my run yet today. Probably because Tish interrupted me and demanded we head out here immediately.

“So what’s about to happen?” Esme asks.

“There are some compromising pictures of the two of you,” Tish says. “On the internet. We need to mitigate the situation. Get in front of it, if you will, to explain.”