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I’m not known for smiling, but the corners of my mouth twitch. “You, uh, dropped your panties, ma’am.”
And when I glance back down at my open palm, it hits me she’s long gone. I have no idea what her name is, and I’m still here . . . Holding her panties.
But this Willa character. I don’t know her. I don’t trust her. All I know is that she makes my dick twitch, she talks too much, and she has a spare pair of underwear in her purse.
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 don’t want to let my eyes linger too long on Cade Eaton. He’s so bitchy looking that I might laugh, or I might stare longer than is appropriate. Because you’d have to be dead to not enjoy staring at him.
nothing else, Willa Grant is a stunner. Too young for me. Too unpredictable for me. But a stunner all the same.
Lots of people have walked through that front door. But somehow this feels different.
“You rule with an iron fist, Daddy Eaton.”
“That’s what we call my dad.”
“Daddy Cade it is.”
there’s no amount of money in the world you could pay me to stay here and be your punching bag all summer.” I fucking love the pair on this girl. If I weren’t so irritated by how attracted I am to her, I’d be cheering her on.
But if you act like a dick, I’m going to call you out on it.” “I have no doubt you will, Red.” We’re still shaking hands. It’s a handshake that has lasted longer than is proper. It’s a threat or a promise— I’m just not sure which.
I’m also just so relieved to have support, even if it comes in the form of Willa Grant. The redheaded mouthpiece who makes eating green beans look pornographic.
This kid is going to be the death of me. And so is his goddamn nanny.
mean, fuck my life. How did I get to the point where I’m analyzing the way a man scowls at me?
“Eaton. You grumpy motherfucker. You just laughed,” I blurt. “Yeah, Red. I did.”
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.”
“The way I see it, I like you a little more every day.”
“Daddy Cade, you’re a whole lot prettier when you smile.” I can’t help but snort. “You’re insane.”
She’s a spark in the dark. Dancing flames against a midnight sky. She shines brighter than almost anyone in this entire place with her glossy hair, bright dress, and twinkling green eyes.
My lids fall shut as reality comes crashing back in. It doesn’t matter how good her hands feel on my body. The divide between us is too much. It’s too wide. She’s out of my league, and I’d be an asshole to drag her down into mine.
But when we hop back into the truck and she peeks over at me and says, “You’re an amazing dad. I hope you know that,” I want to drag her down right on the spot.
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’m here to help you?” The weight of his gaze has my entire body humming. The intensity in his eyes. I feel like he’s trying to light me on fire with his glare alone.
“We all need to do something frivolous sometimes. Even you.” I absently wonder if we’re talking about rodeos at all right now.
“What are you thinking right now?” “That I like sitting here with your eyes on me.” “Fuck,” he groans,
“Truth or dare?”
But never has it resulted in the expression of distressed pleading on Cade’s face when he glances up at me and says, “Dare.”
His expression doesn’t say crawl onto my lap and ride me. It says help me. And so that’s what I do. But probably not in the way he saw coming.
It’s perfectly natural. Willa is a smoke show. She’d make a priest crumble. And I’m no man of the cloth.
But when my eyes drop to her chest, all warning thoughts of her being too young grow wings and fly right the fuck out of my head. Her perky tits are teasing me through a soft, white cotton concert tee.
“Because if you’re this grumpy midmorning, I’d hate to see you first thing. Those cowboys down at the ranch must be terrified of you.”
“Do my nipples bother you, Cade?” Coffee sprays from my mouth.
Then she turns and walks back toward her bedroom, holds one fist up above her head, and says, “Fuck the patriarchy.” And I’m left standing there. Watching her. Wondering if she’s wearing any panties under those soft, loose shorts I could so easily pull to the side.
don’t want her thinking I’m downright obsessed with her. I don’t want her knowing I did kind of . . . notice her absence. It’s only been a couple of weeks, but I’ve gone from being annoyed by her presence when I get home from a hard day’s work to smiling as I kick off my boots and listen to her and Luke laugh or talk together. Music to my fucking ears.
Truthfully, silence doesn’t bother me in the least. But she’s impossible to look away from. I figured she’d have some basic knowledge of the guitar, but this is impressive. Or maybe it’s just because it’s her. There’s something soulful, something that warms me to my bones as I watch her.
Her lean fingers move across the string seamlessly, stretching and flexing with every note she strums. And then her voice kicks in, and it’s a shot to the gut. Raspy and sweet, all at once. Shy and sure. Quiet and strong. Just like her.
She sings about dust on a bottle and how the contents just keep getting better with age. It’s funny, she’s poking fun at me and she knows it.
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.
“You’re a good man, Cade Eaton. Quite possibly one of the best.” Her voice is so soft that I barely hear it.
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
I snort. Oh, I feel like getting my back broken alright. By him. Not a horse.
Cade is the embodiment of actions speaking louder than words. He wasn’t about to fall all over himself apologizing for not making enough coffee for me. Instead, he just made more and left me a mug, knowing that it would make me feel good.
While Cade’s back is turned, I march in the opposite direction and duck under the fence post of the round pen. I feel eyes on me, but the men say nothing to stop me. They must be smarter than Cade.
Fantasizing about. From my side of the fence, I lean close, dropping my voice. “I’m pretty sure of the two of us, you’re the one with the filthy mouth, Cade.”
“You have no fuckin’ idea, Red.”
As I scoot through the fence near the barn where I saw Luke run, one man exclaims toward my retreating form, “God fuckin’ damn. The view out here has never been so good.”
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.
A quick glance back at Willa has me walking across the grass, because her expression is pure fire. 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.
