I frowned and talked my pulse down. No one knew I was getting off with Teller. We weren’t a thing. He was making a point about my pleasure and I was soaking up his attention. “I’m not sure what people are saying. He works at the bar around his hours.”
“You’re riding around with him.”
Oh. The next part wouldn’t go over well, but I’d rather she heard the news from me than catch me off guard and harangue me later. “The bar was vandalized, and it’s not safe to stay in. I’m using a guest room in his house.”
“Turned into a slut for a Bailey, did ya?”
My cheeks flamed. “Geez, Mom. No. The bar isn’t safe.”
She smacked her lips against her teeth. “Wendi took what you had, so you’re taking what she had.”
I wasn’t. I couldn’t see her with the Teller I knew. I had only known who Teller was when he’d been with Wendi. I had been married and living in Missoula, but I wasn’t the same girl I was back then, and Teller wasn’t the same guy. Wendi’s leftovers weren’t making me laugh or protecting me when bricks were thrown through windows. But I wasn’t sharing any of that with Mom. “It’s just for work,” I mumbled.
“It’s nothing for him. Remember that. You’re not his type.” She raked her gaze down my gunmetal-gray scrubs as if she were pointing out that the extra six inches of height would be gross for a guy. That my sturdier build would never be desirable compared to Wendi’s petite curves or her long legs. I kept myself covered thanks to Mom pointing out flaws all my life while Wendi dressed to express, and she had a lot to say.
“Well, it’s business. I’m not worried.” I was a little worried, but talking with Mom wouldn’t assuage those feelings. I made a show of checking on the clock on the wall. “I’ve gotta clock in. Need anything from me before I go?”
“No,” she said disdainfully, turning her attention back to her show. “You ain’t got nothing for anyone.”
Mom was a cat with a busted leg, swiping at whoever tried to help her, but this time, it scraped over me like 24-grit sandpaper, chafing against my pride. I had gotten good at letting it roll off my back. What was different about tonight?
All week, I’d marveled over how nice it’d been to hang out with the Baileys. Everyone had been so supportive of each other. Mae hadn’t said one rude word toward her daughters—or anyone else, for that matter. The party had been full of mothers and daughters who loved each other, who’d been kind to each other. They hadn’t even been separated, but when a kid had run to their mom, their mom had always been happy. It hadn’t mattered which kid or which mom.
Loss tugged at my heart. I hadn’t had that upbringing. Mom had lived a hard, loveless life. I’d at least gotten some affection from my dad’s sister. Aunt Tilly used to encourage me to be better than my circumstances. That was what I was doing now. Being better to Mom than she’d ever be to me, and it was easier to do after Teller burst into my bar and my life.
“Night, Mom.” I left the room on her grunt.
Now that I was done with my obligatory visit and not feeling utterly beaten down, the talk with Teller played through my mind—about the house, Sal, and the likelihood he was screwing me over.
I didn’t know how long Teller would take with the repairs, or how long he and I would be messing around, but I wanted to absorb everything he was willing to give, and one thing was his support.
I took my phone out and sent a quick message to my real estate agent. If this panned out, Teller would earn out his bid several times over. And I’d have no idea how to repay him.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Teller
“I’m going to be late for work,” Madison gasped.
“You’d better come, then.”
Her legs were splayed on either side of my head as she was pressed into the corner of the spare room on the cot she’d been sleeping in at the bar. She arched her back and pushed her pussy against my face, and a blast of heat hit as she came. Fuck, yes. I lived for this moment. When she climaxed, there was nothing on her mind but how good she felt, and I was the one giving it to her.
She pushed at my hair, and I rose, licking my lips. Then I drew one exposed nipple into my mouth. A shiver racked her and her tits jiggled.
Her eyes were hazy, but she smiled. “You’re so naughty.”
I grinned and pushed up, taking in her long, nude body. Full breasts, strong hips, and a stomach that I had a hard time keeping my hands off.
She eyed the push of the erection at my jeans. “I can take care of you.”
“I’m a man of my word, Mads. I don’t need the pleasure.”
She frowned and grabbed her underwear from where it had landed on the pillow. “But why do you need the pain?”
I sat back on my knees and nearly slid off the cot. I twisted to sit on my ass. If I watched her dress, I’d keep taking each article of clothing off. “It’s not about pain.” It was putting her first. Always. The way it should’ve been for much of her life. It was about showing her she was more to me than a good time, but if I told her that, she might start building a wall between us, brick by brick.
Her phone pinged. She crawled over the cot to peek at her phone. She had her bra and underwear on and was shrugging into her scrub top. When she saw who had texted, she yanked up her phone and growled. Then she tossed it back on the storage bins moonlighting as end tables.
