Page 56 of Sunday Morning

“Wait!” I rolled my lips together. “I usually have plans. I’m a very popular person. But it just so happens that I don’t have anything going on tonight. So …”

“So nobody invited you to the rodeo?”

I laughed. “I’ve never been to the rodeo.”

His lips parted as he peered at me with disbelief.

“Are you roping?” I asked.

After a few more seconds of nothing but a single blink, he slowly nodded.

“Don’t look at me like that.” I laughed.

“Like what?”

“Like I’m the preacher’s daughter who has never been to a rodeo because my dad thinks there’s too much smoking and drinking going on.”

“You basically just confessed that youare, in fact, that person.”

I stepped around the counter and tried to take the guitar from him, but he didn’t willingly relinquish it.

“Come to the rodeo with me. I’m calf roping,” he said.

“I don’t think my father will approve.”

“You’re eighteen,” he narrowed his eyes.

“Living at home.”

“You have a car.”

“He’ll ask where I’m going.”

“What’s he going to do? Follow you?”

I chuckled. “You want me to lie.”

“Did you tell him where you were and what you were doing when you fucked my brother?”

I flinched at his language. It felt like a one-way ticket to Hell.

“Well, Matt’s not home to corroborate my lie. And if I ask Heather or one of my other friends to cover for me, they’ll want to know why.”

“Invite Heather. Let her be your partner in crime and your alibi.”

I chewed on the idea, scraping my teeth along my bottom lip, eyes focused on the guitar. “I’ll call her and tell her you invited us,” I said.

Isaac beamed.

I peeled his fingers from the guitar case handle. “But I still want the guitar for the night. Two nights, actually.”

He wet his lips. “A second night will cost you.”

I hugged the guitar case. “Do you want to write your name somewhere else on my body?” I rolled my eyes.

Isaac’s gaze surveyed said body. It made me feel dirty and exhilarated. I loved it and hated it in equal parts. I was ingrained with godly, moral behavior, but there was a streak of rebellion woven between those grins of purity that seemed to grow every day, especially on the days when I interacted with Isaac.

“Sunday Morning, I want to write my name on every inch of your body. But I don’t think it would bode well for your relationship with my brother or the great union of the Cory and Jacobson families.” Isaac turned and opened the door while gazing over his shoulder. “But I promise it would blow your fucking mind.” He smirked. “The rodeo starts at seven.”