I’ve been replaying our kiss over and over in my head like my favourite movie. Been trying to think of ways I can convince her to do it again.
I knew she was lying when she told me she didn’t love me anymore. That was only solidified when her lips met mine. I could feel it in the way she clung to me. The way her body trembled against mine as we moved in tandem with one another.
It was desperate. Needy. And fucking addictive.
I’ve dreamt of her mouth every night since.
I haven’t touched another woman since her. And the moment she climbed into my lap and kissed me; she awoke something inside of me. Something hungry. An animalistic beast that has lain dormant for four years.
I want her.
Inourbed. Inourhouse.
I want my ring back on her finger, where it belongs.
I just haven’t the slightest clue how the fuck to make it happen.
If there’s one thing I’ve learned about Daisy since she’s been back, it’s that she’s skittish. One wrong move and she’ll take off running.
I still don’t know what it is that has her running, but I do know that the next time she tries to run from me, I will chase her.
***
Leaning over the pool table, I line my cue up, glancing carefully between the ball and the intended pocket before pulling my arm back and firing off the shot.
Without watching, I know the moment it rolls into the pocket, and a smug smirk teases my lips.
“Oh, c’mon, boss,” Callen groans, dropping his head back as I hold my hand open in his direction.
“A bet is a bet. Pay up, Marshall,” I say, opening and closing my fingers in a ‘gimme’ gesture.
Shaking his head in disappointment – at himself – he pulls a wad of cash from his pocket and reluctantly hands over a hundred-dollar bill.
With the same smug expression, I pluck the Benjamin from his fingers and tuck it into my back pocket. “Pleasure doin’ business with ya.”
“Yeah, yeah,” he mutters with an eyeroll, bringing his beer to his lips.
“Didn’t take you for a sore loser, Cal,” Jace teases, which earns him the middle finger from Callen and a chuckle from me.
Callen had bet that I couldn’t seven ball him in a game of pool. I took that bet, knowing I could seven ball the fucker with my eyes closed. Now, he’s down a hundred bucks and I have bragging rights that should bring the cocky shithead down a peg or two for at least a week.
Callen’s a hard worker. He’s worked for Ashby Trees for the last two years and I have nothing but respect for him. Lately, though, his attitude at work and the way he speaks to Jaxon is grating on me.
On more than one occasion in the past few weeks, I’ve overheard Callen giving Jax shit for arriving to work later than the rest of us, despite the fact that Jax and I have an agreement. He’s gone against my orders to keep his mouth shut and his nose out of places it doesn’t belong, and I’m about done with his shit.
Today was the final straw.
Which is why I accepted his and Jace’s invitation for a drink after work. I figured the best time to mention the issue would be on neutral ground over a cold beer or two.
Jace empties the rest of his beer and stands. “I’m going to get another. Want one?”
I nod, holding up my almost empty bottle and Callen does the same. I wait for Jace to head to the bar before turning my attention on Cal. “There’s something I’ve been meaning to talk to you about.”
Callen’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise, and he leans closer slightly, his eyes full of interest. I don’t know what he thinks I’m about to say, but I can guarantee that hopeful look won’t be on his face for much longer.
“I don’t appreciate it when the people representing my company go against my warnings.” I fold my arms over my chest and lean back in my seat as I wait for my words to sink in.
As expected, his face drops. “What are you talking about?”
