Heartless (Chestnut Springs, #2)

by Elsie Silver

I’m not known for smiling, but the corners of my mouth twitch. “You, uh, dropped your panties, ma’am.” A strangled giggle bursts from her as her gaze darts to my hand and back to my face. “Wow. This is awkward. I’m really—”

She’s not entirely wrong. My life would be a lot less complicated if she hadn’t waltzed into Chestnut Springs this morning. My dick would be a lot softer too.

“Sounds like her loss, because you might be the coolest kid I’ve ever met.” She doesn’t use a sad voice, or a baby voice, she just talks to him like a normal human being. “Fucking hell,” I curse under my breath because she just practically hired herself.

All thick arms and broad chest and furrowed brow. Dirty boots. Muscular thighs. Cowboy porn with a frown.

“Very chivalrous. Thank you, Mr. Eaton.” I bite down on the inside of my cheek. Mr. Eaton. That makes me feel like an old perv. Or like my dad. Which is possibly the same thing.

I heave the suitcase out just in time to watch them walk hand in hand into my house, and for some reason, I stop and watch. Unable to look away. Lots of people have walked through that front door. But somehow this feels different.

“Beg.” “Pardon me?” “You heard me.” Her lips don’t even twitch. She’s not joking at all. “Beg.”

Willa: I just got up. Cade: Okay? Willa: I’m making coffee. Cade: Alright. Willa: I’m getting dressed for the day. Panties? CHECK. Cade: Too much information.

Willa: Oh, I’m just getting started. Cade: Willa. Willa: Remember that time you BEGGED me to stay?

“Dude. We can’t put them back in.” He shrugs, not looking sad about it. “I guess we’ll just have to eat them.” I try not to laugh. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think he did it on purpose. “Guess so.”

He giggles and tells me I’m hilarious. I’ve never felt cooler than I do hanging out with a five-year-old.

“You might be better at cooking than my dad!” I point my fork at him. “I cannot wait to tell him that.” His little blue eyes go comically wide. “You can’t tell him that. He’ll be sad.”

Hillbilly shit it is.

A little spot on his jaw pops, and I am dying. He is a miniature Cade.

Smiling brightly, I drag Luke toward the till, feeling so grateful that I’m off to a good start in this small town. Dropping my panties and insulting the locals. And it’s only day two.

“When you called my dad a woman hater, was that a bubble thought?” Shiiiiittttttt. Called out by a five-year-old.

“My dad will accept your apology. He likes you.” “How do you know he likes me?” He’s mentioned this twice now, and honestly, I’m downright confused. “Because he hasn’t said a thing about rolling around in the manure pile.”

Because that’s the bar. If Cade Eaton “likes” you, you’ll know because he won’t mention his preference for rolling around in horse shit.

Willa: I’m sorry I called you a woman hater. Cade: It’s fine. Willa: Do you know what the first thing I did this morning was? Cade: Willa, I’m working. If everything is okay, we don’t need to chat. Willa: I put my panties on. Willa: Are you ignoring me? Willa: I figured you’d be proud. Day one and I’m knocking all the rules right out of the park. Cade: If I pay you more, will you stop texting me about this? Willa: Probably not. I don’t need the money. I’m just easily bored, and poking the bear is fun.

This kid is going to be the death of me. And so is his goddamn nanny.

A smart man would say, Yes, please leave. That’s an excellent idea. I am not a smart man.

I absently wonder what Cade is thinking. “This fucking woman is going to be the death of me.” Okay. So that’s what he’s thinking. I take a strange sort of pride in his statement.

I mean, fuck my life. How did I get to the point where I’m analyzing the way a man scowls at me?

My god. Is Harvey Eaton a sheltered simpleton or a comedic genius?

And for once, Cade Eaton isn’t scowling at me.

“Eaton. You grumpy motherfucker. You just laughed,” I blurt. “Yeah, Red. I did.”

“Wow, Harvey,” Willa announces as we walk into the dining room. “It looks fabulous out there. You blew the hell outta that lawn.” I scrub a hand over my face as the table erupts into giggles. Harvey included. Bunch of children.

And I feel like I want all her smiles for myself.

My brows knit together as I stare down at her. The nanny. The nanny. The nanny. The nanny. The nanny shouldn’t look this fucking good to me. The nanny shouldn’t know or tell me what’s good for me. And I shouldn’t listen. But I’m an idiot, so I respond with, “Fine.”

“Do you come often?” Willa asks. “What?” My brain takes that question in a different, sex-starved direction.

“The joke’s on you though. I wouldn’t last ten minutes and just because you’d be quiet doesn’t mean I would be.”

“Who said anything about me and you, Cade?”

She sits closer this time though. Teasing that center line of the couch. I’m reminded of that night I followed her to her room and stared down at the line on the floor. Lines I shouldn’t cross. Lines I shouldn’t even be spending this long staring at.

Summer: Did you leave with Cade? Willa: Yeah. Summer: You could have stayed with me! We’re getting a cab. Willa: Nah. Cade’s hotter. Went home with him instead. Summer: Lol. Summer: Wait. Are you joking? I can’t tell. Willa: Save a horse, ride a cowboy. Summer: I still can’t tell.

I groan when the first splash of coffee hits my tongue. I need it because I’ve been up all night trying to will away the world’s most persistent hard-on. Thanks to Willa fucking Grant.

Then I stopped. Because blowing my load while thinking of the twenty-something nanny sleeping on the other side of the wall just felt fucking gross. Daring her to sit on the edge of the hot tub, when we both knew why, was bad enough. God. What was I thinking?

What I want to say is wholly inappropriate. You’re beautiful. How was your night out? I’m sorry I haven’t been leaving enough coffee for you in the morning. Words that lodge in my throat. Turn to cotton batting on my tongue. Words and feelings I don’t know what to do with anyway.

Luke sways to the song, happy and oblivious. But not me. I can feel my precious control slipping where she’s concerned. And who knew some stupid song would be the thing to do it?

Willa might be a bit of a psycho—after all, she did just push a child into the pool—but the more time I spend with her, the more I feel like she’s my psycho.

And when she looks up at me, uncertainty painted all over her pretty face, all I can do is smile. Willa Grant looks way too good in my bed.

Grumpy Cade is hot. Sweet Cade is irresistible.

“You know what you need? Some no-strings-attached sex with the nanny.”

“That’s the thing, Red. There are too many fuckin’ strings with you. Enough to strangle us both. So we’re going to be responsible and ignore whatever this is between us. Because a month from now, we’ll be parting ways. You’re going to live some fabulous, wildly successful life in the city, and I’m going to be here, taking care of this place for the rest of my days. We’re on different paths, you and me.”

“Red, you’re nuts. But I like that about you. You’re like a goddamn hurricane.”

Those lips should be mine. On mine. Wrapped around my cock. Moaning my name.

“I think I can’t get you out of my head, no matter how hard I try. I think you’re too damn tempting and that I’m too damn complicated. I think you smell like him, and I can’t fucking stand that.”

“Keep talking like that and I’m going to fuck the filth right out of your pretty mouth.”

“You heard me, Red. You keep barking at me like that and I’m going to put you on your knees, open those strawberry lips, and fuck your face just to shut you up.”

“Cade,” her lips part on my name, her tongue darting out to wet them. “God.” “He’s not here right now, baby. It’s just me. And I’m done asking nicely. I’m ready to take.”

“Hey, Willa?” “Hey, Luke,” I reply dryly, since the be quiet part obviously didn’t register. “Sometimes I wish you were my mom.”