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She rolls her lips together like she’s really thinking about it. Goddamn, this woman has a heart of gold.
I may not know what my path in life is yet, but I promise it doesn’t include air mattresses and sleeping bags.”
I’ve gone with the flow my entire life. Opportunities pop up and I stumble into them. This feels like another one of those.
Condescension drips from his words.
I’ve been known to break up bar fights with a bat. And maybe I’m about to be known for kicking a hot-as-hell rancher in the balls.
The way his eyes soften as he stares down at his son. That’s the real kicker.
I trust Summer because anyone who can manage to tie my wild-child little brother down can handle an unruly five-year-old.
That sounds exactly like something Summer would say. A loophole in my instructions that she would find.
They remind me of Willa’s hair. Fucking lame.
“Is she nuts?” I mutter before taking another drink. Rhett snorts. “A little. But in a good way.”
“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.
I also swallow down the agitation I feel at the thought of someone—a mother, no less—not coming to visit a kid like this.
And no matter what his age is, Luke is a cool person.
All thick arms and broad chest and furrowed brow. Dirty boots. Muscular thighs. Cowboy porn with a frown.
“Let’s go! Gotta let the panty bandit here chat with Willa.” “Jesus Christ. They already told you about that?”
It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to tell that Cade Eaton’s favorite thing in the world is his son.
Because you’d have to be dead to not enjoy staring at him.
I’ll take a boozy brunch with my bestie and a dirty book in bed by eight for a thousand, Alex.
I like the way the muscle in his jaw pops, the way his Adam’s apple bobs beneath tawny, tanned skin. I even like the little shimmer of silver strands dusted throughout his dark hair.
the pressure of succeeding the way everyone else in my family has is downright crippling.
knowing he’s probably wondering if I’m wearing any undergarments right now.
Summer: Don’t worry though. It’s part of your charm. Cade: I’m a charming asshole? Summer: Exactly!
Even though she’s not at all my type at this point in my life.
If nothing else, Willa Grant is a stunner.
Maybe I am the asshole everyone tells me I am.
already seeing my peaceful summer swirling down the drain. She’s going to drive me up the fucking wall.
Mr. Eaton. That makes me feel like an old perv.
But I don’t correct her, because the old perv part of me likes it.
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.
“You rule with an iron fist, Daddy Eaton.” I groan, cheeks pinching up in distaste. “That’s what we call my dad.”
It seems like the universe could have granted some sort of reprieve.
The smile she gives me is flat, her eyes dull—all traces of playfulness evaporated.
“Because I’m not spending my summer living with a woman hater who doesn’t trust me and will be an over-the-top control freak the entire time I’m here.”
If I weren’t so irritated by how attracted I am to her, I’d be cheering her on.
“Beg.” “Pardon me?” “You heard me.” Her lips don’t even twitch. She’s not joking at all. “Beg.”
She smells like citrus and vanilla. Like some fancy pastry at the coffee shop in town. I can’t help but lean in just a little bit.
“I have no doubt you will, Red.”
It’s a threat or a promise—I’m just not sure which.
Willa: Remember that time you BEGGED me to stay?
I’ve never felt cooler than I do hanging out with a five-year-old.
His little blue eyes go comically wide. “You can’t tell him that. He’ll be sad.”
It’s like he doesn’t even realize what majorly hillbilly shit he just asked me to do.
A hard place where I’m literally his last and only option.
Luke cackles maniacally from his seat in the back when I do my best Billy Idol imitation.
Control freak.
A little spot on his jaw pops, and I am dying. He is a miniature Cade. Take away eye color and the resemblance is uncanny. Hilarious.
It’s a fascinating dichotomy.
She looked insane and carefree. And fucking beautiful.
I guess he comes by it honestly as an Eaton boy.
