Everyone was looking at me, waiting for an answer, but I wasn’t outing Madison’s financial issues.
“I’ll check a little more local,” I said.
Myles’s eyes narrowed. “Smart to save on transportation costs.”
Wynter gasped. “Ohmigod. I’m sorry. Of course she’s going to be cost sensitive. She had a dump dropped on her.”
“It’s not that bad. I just wish she’d turn it into something she wants.” She claimed the bakery was an example, but from the way she ogled my kitchen, I had my doubts.
“She was turning Flatlanders around,” Wynter said. “Just by listening to Ruby and working on the socials. And I heard her cousin moved, so there’ll be no bartender staring at boobs.”
“I’m sure she’ll do fine.” I meant it, but I’d rather she worked on her own dreams, not someone else’s. I picked up the burritos. “Anyway, when I get home I’ll ask her about any changes she wants to make and get a budget for the windows.”
Tate crossed his arms, Wynter’s brows lifted, and Myles’s lips quirked.
“When you get home?” Tate asked, the corner of his mouth tilting up.
“She couldn’t stay there last night,” I argued. “It’s not safe.”
“Wait.” Wynter waved at the air in front of her like she was swiping my words out of the way. “She’s living at the bar?”
Fuck. “She’s private. I don’t want to spread her business around.”
“We’re not just anyone,” Wynter said, her mouth in a pout. “We don’t spread other people’s gossip. Outside our circle,” she amended. “I heard she gave up her apartment, but what about her parents’ place?”
“Sale’s pending,” Tate answered for me. “Not safe, huh? You keeping her nice and secure at your house?”
“It’s not like that.” Her wonder when she’d soaked in the guest room had eaten through my chest all night. I had built the home of my dreams, but I hadn’t considered it’d be anyone else’s fantasy. Yet I had wanted to give her a tour, to see the amazement on her face with each of my design and style choices. “She’s going through a rough time, and I’m not letting her go back until windows are installed and a security system is put in.”
“Might take a while,” Wynter said with mock seriousness.
“Those windows don’t get put in overnight,” Myles added.
I waggled a finger between them. “That’s not what it’s like.”
Tate clicked his tongue. “Better get those burritos back to your girl.”
“She’s not my girl.” Those words tasted sour. Madison was strong and attractive. I couldn’t keep my eyes off her butt, and the vision of her in her bra and underwear tormented me in the dead of night and sometimes in the shower.
I gave them all a hard look and marched out of the house. Tenor was just pulling in next to my pickup. He got out and looked at his phone. As soon as I saw his shit-eating grin, I knew what he’d seen on his screen. The Bailey text thread was burning like a wick.
“Don’t start,” I warned.
“Got a guest?” He eyed my container of food.
“You’re not one to talk since you had a pretend girlfriend staying at your house for several weekends.”
“And I know exactly what we were doing.”
I shoved a middle finger in the air and kept walking to my pickup. Ten minutes later, I pulled into my garage. Once I got in the house, I tucked the burritos into the oven, turned it on, and set the timer. They were frozen, but hopefully Madison wasn’t in a hurry.
I jogged up the stairs. I had an idea for today, but I didn’t know if she’d go for it. “Hey, Madison?” The guest bedroom door was closed. She couldn’t still be sleeping, could she? It was almost noon, but then her hours had to be fucked up with her night shifts. “Maddy?”
I was about to knock again when the door swung open. Madison blinked at me from behind a curtain of glossy hair. Her yellow pajamas were as sunny as the day outside. My blood pumped hot through my veins. I nearly took a step forward to push her back into the room and onto that rumpled bed that was probably still warm with her body heat. I fisted my hands to keep from burying them in those silky strands, tipping her head back and claiming her mouth.
She screwed up her face. “Shit, I overslept.” She pushed her hair off her face and her tight little nipples pushed against the fabric of her yellow pajama top.
Fuck me, she wasn’t wearing a bra, and her tits were as lush as I remembered. My mind fogged over with arousal. Then she turned and presented me with her full butt cheeks, barely covered with thin, pale yellow pajama pants.
