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Luke wouldn’t even notice. I’m the fucker with his head in the gutter who can’t handle it.
And that’s just how I like it.
It’s an unfamiliar feeling, wanting someone to like me.
“Fuck the patriarchy.”
Wondering if she’s wearing any panties under those soft, loose shorts I could so easily pull to the side.
And she has no business feeling that way at all.
The most trivial little details have me obsessing over her.
All the armor, all the protection.
“A total weirdo.”
I lean back in my chair and cross my arms over my chest, wondering why I ever disliked her. How can a single person not like Willa Grant? She’s fucking enchanting.
The only weird thing is what I’m feeling about a woman I’ve known for mere weeks. It’s not just weird. It’s fucking absurd.
Instead, I pull her close, not missing the tiny, shocked gasp she breathes out as I do.
“You’re a good man, Cade Eaton. Quite possibly one of the best.”
I want so much more than one stolen dance in the kitchen while my son is off doing god knows what.
And maybe Luke’s not wrong. There’s definitely something weird happening.
Summer: You’d have to ask him. Haven’t seen him with a woman the entire time I’ve known him. Maybe he thinks it’s illegal? Willa: He *is* a stickler for the rules. Maybe I’ll break them and see if he spanks me. Summer: Fucking gross.
Red, The coffee is for you. Starting some two-year-olds today. If you feel like getting your back broken, meet me at the barn and you can sit on one. - C
Oh, I feel like getting my back broken alright. By him.
And a Post-it note addressed to Red.
He’s so fucking hot. He’s always been hot, but I wasn’t so sold on his personality.
“Hi, Red.”
His face pales, like he realizes how I could have interpreted his note.
Cade Eaton is out of his depth with me.
“Red, don’t you fucking dare.”
He turns me into an idiot. A bold, drooling, showboating idiot. He’s a challenge and look at me—I love a challenge.
“You have no fuckin’ idea, Red.”
The man really has a poetic way with words.
I just turn away and smile to myself, because Cade is seething. It’s almost like he’s jealous. And I think I like that.
Cade: That your panty lines are very defined. Willa: My god. Did you just make a joke?
Rhett told me she was loyal, and I recognize that look on her face. Because when someone shits on a person I care about, I make it too.
“Life lesson, shithead. Careful who you pick a fight with. Someone insane might love them.”
She really is insane. Possibly in the best way.
I don’t appreciate the condescending way she says nanny, so I offer back, “Willa is a friend, actually.”
Her voice is hushed and cracks when she says, “That kid held him under water.” Her blinks turn rapid. “I had to pull him out. And they all just laughed like it was a funny prank.”
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.
“Red,” I whisper-shout.
“Relax, daddy. It’s just a kid’s game.”
“Running pretty hard for a woman playing a kid’s game, Red.”
I imagine lying her down in my bed, getting lost between her pretty milky thighs, and making her come so hard that her fingers curl in the same way.
“Me neither, Red.”
The reality where I know better than to go after a girl like Willa Grant. A reality where I’m still too fucking wounded to trust someone.
I feel safe when I’m scowling, but it’s getting harder and harder to look at Willa Grant without smiling. It’s with a smile on my lips that I lean in and press my mouth to hers.
That’s the thing about Willa. She doesn’t strike me as the sweet and slow type of girl.
Heat shoots through my groin, and I bite back any sign of what just happened. Willa is clueless, still soft and desperate in my hands.
Willa: I’ve tried. He’s too mature. He just rolls his eyes and walks away. Summer: Wait. Did you really flash him?
“Sounds weird. Sounds awkward. Don’t like it. Not approved by me.”
He sighs when I press a kiss to his hair without even thinking. I don’t know what’s appropriate anymore. I know he’s not my kid, but he feels like mine in some little way. He feels like mine enough to comfort him when he’s sick.
“Red.”
You’re doing great. We’re lucky to have you here helping us. Luke loves you. You’ll never catch flack from me for comforting him.”
“What if I mess this up? Luke isn’t a martini I can just toss out and try again with.” The deep rumble of Cade’s laugh filters through the receiver.
