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Failure is not the falling down, but the staying down. Mary Pickford
I don’t deserve Summer. But I want to. And that comes with being honest.
Because the very last thing I need in my life is someone who makes me feel like there’s not enough oxygen in my lungs when I’ve only just caught my breath.
Okay. She’s mad. And she doesn’t sound drunk at all. She’s got her keys wedged between her fingers like claws and I instantly like this girl.
But I’ve always been a little reckless.
Winter rubs her temples like she has a headache. I consider offering her an aspirin from my truck, or an orgasm. I hear those help too.
“Theo’s just a baby though. You can’t corrupt him, Winter.”
I already know Winter can do better. And I’m a lot better, whether she realizes it yet or not.
I want to know more about Winter Valentine. Like when that divorce is happening.
He’s like a big, happy, manly dog that needs a day spent at the groomer.
I don’t know what kind of Brady Bunch shit is happening on this homestead, but it throws me off.
I swear my jaw drops open. Who is this guy? Cowboy Ned Flanders?
I’m about to say thank you, even though it pains me, but the tips of my fingers brush briefly against his and a static shock passes between us. It has my eyes shooting up. My hand darts back from the wineglass as I cradle it to my chest.
Sloane, the dainty blonde sitting beside Harvey, launches into a story about a similar time she and Jasper played at some other farm. And she’s talking about NHL superstar Jasper Gervais. One of my dad’s clients, and the man who is sitting beside her, staring at her like she can shoot rainbows out of her vagina or something.
“Hey . . .” Rhett’s hands come up, his beer held in one. “I was Goldilocks. All the porridge was too hot or too cold. Finally found one that was just—” Summer cuts him off with a feigned look of exasperation on her face. “Please do not finish that sentence. Any analogy that compares me to mushy cereal is just . . . no, Rhett. No.”
Rhett and Jasper laugh, because they know what I’m talking about from working out with her. Summer may be small and sweet, but put her in personal trainer mode and she becomes downright evil. I don’t think any of us have been in better shape than since we started working out at Hamilton Athletics.
I grin. “That’s okay. I like having my back scratched.”
I don’t even want to keep needling her. What I want to do is give her a hug and tell her everything will be okay. I sense she needs that comfort.
Now her lips do tip up, but it’s practiced. “That holds a certain appeal.” “Watching me walk away? Busted you doing that earlier already.”
“You are incorrigible.” “Oooh! Incorrigible! Great word. Very Bridgerton. I could role-play the duke if that’s something you’re into.” I tug her driver-side door open and gesture to usher her in, but she stops in her tracks. Finally looking amused. “You know Bridgerton?” “Yes. They even taught me how to read at bull riding school.”
Tequila is not my friend. But for this girl, I’ll make an exception.
Marina: I just spoke to Rob. Winter: Oh, good. I love that he opted to air our marital issues to my mother. Marina: You can’t seriously be thinking about leaving him. Winter: After what he’s done? Yeah, I am. Marina: I doubt you’ll do better. I would tough it out. Winter: Yeah, I know you would. I got to grow up in that household. Marina: If you leave him over that mongrel sister of yours, you’re just letting her win.
“I think I like you because you are a heart-stopping, jaw-dropping type of beautiful.”
Did you know that people who curse are more honest and trustworthy than people who don’t?”
“Winter. I’d have properly fucked you in the back room of that gas station if you’d asked me.”
I freeze at his words. “I’m not going to sit here and pretend I haven’t been thinking about it all night.” His eyes glaze over and peruse my body in a knowing way, like he can see my skin flush and my nipples pebble. His legs squeeze in on mine. Trapping me. “That dress could be so easily tugged up.
“Summer, you look sweet, but you’re kind of an asshole.” From the mat beside me, Rhett turns and kicks my sneaker. “Talk to her like that again. I dare you.”
“Why are you still lying there, Eaton?” Summer snipes at him. “I said give me twenty-five or I’ll make you join a Zumba class.” I snort. “Fuck. I would pay a lot of money to see that happen.”
I don’t want to be the one-night stand who’s used to scratch an itch. I want a woman like Winter Hamilton—beautiful, and smart, and sharp-tongued—to look at me and see a future.
Marina: So you quit your job, left your husband, and now won’t answer my calls? Winter: Seems like you’ve figured out the gist all on your own. Marina: Call me back. Winter: The more I think about it, the less I have to say to you. Marina: I raised you better than this. Stronger than this. More focused than this. Winter: I can’t remember a single hug. Marina: What? Winter: You never hugged me. Never consoled me. Marina: That’s what the nanny was for.
It sounds childish, but somehow Sloane has wiggled her way into my life in the past couple of weeks. She’s Rhett’s cousin, and she says she thinks she met me at exactly the right time. She says she needed someone like me in her life, but the thing is . . . I think I’m the one who needed her.