Willow was still attracted to him.
And it might make him an asshole, but if that was what he had to use to get her to come around to talking to him, so be it. He’d pull out every obnoxious play in the book if she’d just tell him about her life.
She cleared her throat and thrust the paperwork in his direction. “I just need your signature on these. You missed a couple pages last week.”
He stepped closer to her, trying hard not to smirk when she stiffened. Then he brushed his fingers over hers as he pulled the papers from her hand. “Happy to give you anything you need, Willowtree.”
Her nostrils flared, the anger she was suppressing clearly written over every inch of her. But instead of chastising him for using her nickname from when they’d been teenagers, or for lacing his statement with an innuendo he was certain she’d picked up on, she just squared her shoulders. “You can go ahead and drop ’em by later today.”
“Much as I’d love to visit you in your office again, I’m afraid I’m not fit for public viewing for the foreseeable future.” Finn gestured to himself, the sheen of sweat he’d wiped away already replaced thanks to the heat.
Her eyes dropped to once again take in his appearance, a flush working its way up her neck and to her cheeks. Just as quickly as her eyes had dropped to observe him, they darted off to the side, staring instead out the grimy front windows. “I’m sure you can find another shirt.”
That much was true, especially since Finn and Drew were staying upstairs in the apartment for the time being. “C’mon, it’ll just take a minute,” he said. “I can sign them now. I was gonna break for lunch anyway.” He strode toward the stairs at the back of the space, intent on heading up to slap together a sandwich. He looked back at her and tilted his head in the direction of the stairway. “If you come on up, I’ll share with you. I’ll even make it for you—peanut butter and banana sandwiches, your favorite.”
It was only a brief moment where her expression changed, but he saw it—saw how her eyes softened the tiniest bit at the mention of her old favorite. The night before he’d left, they’d had a picnic in her tree house, one he’d prepared for her himself. Other girls might’ve wanted candlelight and fancy restaurants, but Willow had always been satisfied with anything, so long as they’d been together.
The memory was bittersweet, tugging at his chest. He watched as the same emotions played out over her face. That softness in her eyes lasted for only a moment before she hardened her features once again.
“I do not want to share your lunch, Griffin. As lovely as the offer is.” Sarcasm dripped from every word, her sweet Southern front dialed to ten. “What I’d like is for you to sign the papers so I can go back to work.”
He nodded, knowing when not to push. Tossing the papers down, he glanced around under the guise of looking for a pen, hoping if he couldn’t get her upstairs to talk, she’d be up for sharing a bit right there. “How’re you liking it?”
“You wastin’ my time?” she asked. “Not at all, actually.”
Finn shot her a smile over his shoulder. “I meant workin’ for your daddy.”
“I like it just fine,” she said, arms crossed and spine straight.
“Better than painting?” He didn’t stare at her as he waited for the answer, hoping if he pretended his attention was snagged by the paperwork in front of him rather than her answer, she’d be more inclined to respond.
She was silent for so long, he finally glanced over his shoulder at her in time to see her shake her head at him. “Look, I’m not sure what you think is happenin’ here, but you lost the right to ask me questions like that when you left town without a word. Ten freakin’ years ago. If you want insights on my life, you’re gonna have to ask around town, because you’re sure as hell not gonna get any from these lips.”
He dropped his gaze to said lips, flushed and pink, the barest hint of moisture there, as if she’d just licked them. He remembered what it’d been like to have that mouth on him. Remembered in great detail, actually. While he’d always liked to call up those memories in previous years, it had gotten ridiculous over the past week. Thoughts of Willow had been his morning companion in the shower as he’d taken his cock in hand and worked himself to completion over the fantasy of her under him. Astride him. Bent over in front of him. Dozens upon dozens of different ways, only one of which he’d ever actually had the pleasure of experiencing. Because he’d bailed.
And as he stared at her, still stuck in her hometown, no apparent desire at all to have followed the dream she’d talked about for so long, he couldn’t help but wonder what the hell he’d left for. The whole point had been so she could achieve her best life without the stain of his name holding her back. But from where he stood now, it looked like she’d held herself back just fine without his help.
He wanted to know why. Was desperate to find out what had snuffed out the bright, vibrant flame of the Willow he’d coerced out of her shell all those years ago. And she could shoot as many dirty looks his way as she wanted, but he wasn’t going to stop until he found out why his spirited Willowtree was back here again, under her daddy’s thumb. Living a life less than she deserved.
First her office, then Ropers, then right across the street from town hall. And not just across the street, but across the street while half naked, ripped chest and corrugated abs glistening from him working so hard…
Whew, was it hot in here?
Finn was unavoidable, that much was clear. No matter what Willow did, he kept popping up again, leaving her on edge every minute of the day because she just couldn’t escape. And now she had those images from earlier burned into her brain, the sight of him on that ladder, his back muscles flexing, ass looking delectable in a pair of worn jeans, haunting her every waking moment.
After her workday was done, she stormed into her and Mackenna’s place, slamming the door behind her. The walls of the guesthouse on their parents’ property rattled, but she couldn’t muster up an ounce of care. She tossed her purse behind her without concern for where it landed before chucking her heels to either side, grumbling under her breath the entire time.
“Will?” Mac called from upstairs. “Is Ella with you?”
“No,” she snapped.
“No? What’s all that bangin’, then?”
Yeah, okay, so she was acting like their seven-year-old niece. Point taken. Still, she couldn’t get her feet to let up as she stomped upstairs and into Mac’s room.
“All that bangin’ is me losing my ever-lovin’mind.” Willow threw herself facedown on Mackenna’s bed.
“Umm…”
