The Ex Factor - Erin McCarthy Page 0,16

about anything. He just dove head first into an affair with her, because he could no more resist her than the earth could stop turning. Her sensuality was undeniable, and on full display right now. But there was also her goofy sense of humor and her shrew business-like mind. Her laugh and her lips.

Damn it. This was fucking torture.

She was almost to the grass, looking at him like she wanted to bend right down onto his seated body and make a meal out of him. There was no hiding that she was as hot for him as he was for her.

Then she peeled her dress off. He about had a heart attack. She’d gained around ten pounds since their split and it had filled her out in all the right spots. The view was mouth watering.

But he was going to attempt to play it cool. Because that’s what he was. Not.

“Somehow this always happens when we’re together,” he said wryly. “Clothes fall off.”

“I could think of worse people to end up naked with.” She laid her dress on the ground and sat down next to him.

Wow. Such flattery. “I should hope so.” Even though he was no longer directly being assaulted by red panties and breasts spilling out of her bra, he couldn’t get the image out of his head, nor could he stop himself from sneaking a peek over at her. “I can’t think of anyone better to be naked with than you,” he said, shooting her a smile. He suddenly wished he’d thought ahead and planned better for this trip. He wanted a splash of whiskey.

She ran her fingers through her hair. “Threw his guitar into my pool. Played each other for a fool. Now I regret my lost chance.”

That dragged his thoughts away from sex and her body. Maybe she was right. Maybe doing a breakup album was going to be too hard. His throat tightened. “I’m sorry about that, Jolene. I truly am. Throwing that guitar in the pool was childish and a real asshole move. Not to mention an injustice to the guitar.”

“I had it restored,” she said. “It wasn’t in the water for more than five minutes. It’s fine. You can have it back whenever you want. I should have sent it to you.”

He wanted to accept her offer. He’d loved that guitar and he’d loved her for being classy enough to have it restored. It wasn’t his favorite guitar to play on the fly, but it had good sound. He’d paid twenty grand for it and he’d tossed it in the fucking pool. What the hell was wrong with him? “You should sell it then. Get your money back for all your trouble.”

For a second she hesitated, like she wanted to tell him something. But then she just shrugged with a grin. “I may have to if my career goes south. Until then, I’m not going to worry about it.”

“Your career isn’t going to head south. You’re too talented.”

“Tastes change. Nothing lasts forever.” She leaned over, giving him a heart stopping shot of her cleavage. She pulled a notebook and pen out of her bag. “Let’s get to work.”

He nodded and started to play around with the chords, testing a melody to her words. “Sing for me so I can hear what I need to tweak.”

She opened her mouth and sang the words she’d spoken in the pond. Jolene looked like she would have a husky, sex-soaked voice, but she didn’t. Her sound was sweet; pure, angelic, country sweetheart. When she was sitting here like this, without any accompaniment but his acoustic picking, her voice really soared. It wasn’t the big notes, diva delivery, but rather a voice that made you feel peaceful. In love. Her voice made fans fall in love with her because it was open and honest.

He found a better harmony, playing around until he felt like he had it right. She experimented with more lyrics, scratching them out on her notebook and singing softly under her breath. She crossed out phrases, switched them around. He offered some suggestions and together they had a song in an hour.

He’d missed this. The creative process with her. For some reason, their egos stayed out of their writing. Strange that wasn’t so true with their dating. “We’re on to something,” he told her. “Let’s take a break. I’m starving.”

She smiled and fluffed her hair, which had partially dried. It was curly and messy and sexy as hell. “This wasn’t as hard as I