I ended the call with my brothers and tossed my phone onto the kitchen counter before storming out the back door, glaring the entire way.
As soon as I was close enough to her, I barked, “What the hell are you doing?”
It was the same tone I used out on the field. The one that snapped my players into shape when needed. The one that said I wasn’t here to fuck around.
But this little cyclone of mayhem didn’t even spare me a glance.
She continued on her way, guiding her moving partner—aka the rolling chair—toward the cottage’s front door. “Don’t worry about it.”
“You aren’t giving me a choice. If you hurt yourself on my property because of your own stupidity, I’m the one who’s going to get sued,” I snapped.
“Oh mygod. You’re ridiculous. I’m not going tosueyou. Get over yourself.”
“Why didn’t you just ask me for help?”
She barked out an incredulous laugh. “Oh, because our last interaction wentsowell? I didn’t want the guy I’mstalkingto call the police.”
“And in a town this small, it’d probably be the sheriff who showed up,” Trouble’s sullen-looking doppelgänger said. She eyed me suspiciously, giving me a once-over and dismissing me just as quickly.
“That’s my daughter, not another stalker,” Trouble said. “Just want to make that clear.”
Groaning internally, I clenched my jaw. I’d fucked up, and I needed to own that. “Look, it was an?—”
She held up a hand, stopping me. “Save it. I’m not interested in whatever excuse you’re going to give. You were an asshole, plain and simple. The only interaction I want to have with you is once a month when I pay rent.”
With that, she pushed forward, rolling the piece of furniture straight over the threshold and into her new home.
Trouble’s daughter strode past me toward the trailer. “Damn. I haven’t seen her that mad since I borrowed her favorite pair of jeans without asking and ruined them. If I were you, I’d run for my life.”
That was exactly what I should be doing. Running as fast and as far away from this woman as I could. Problem was, I couldn’t stop thinking about her or how good our hour together had been. How it had been the first time I’d actuallywanteda woman to stay the night.
I’d watched her walk out of my hotel room with an ache in my chest that absolutely did not belong there. And that scared the hell out of me.
This woman was trouble, and I didn’tdotrouble. There was no space in my life for it.
So I planned to do exactly what she wanted and stay away.
CHAPTER TEN
SUTTON
I’d takena chance renting this place sight unseen, trusting that Quinn wouldn’t steer me wrong. And I’d been right. More than a decade had passed since we’d been close, but she still knew me. Proof of that was in how well she’d nailed this.
With its bright yellow kitchen, two decent-sized bedrooms, and a quaint living space, the cottage was perfect. Well, other than the fact that it was mere yards from an infuriating asshole.
Infuriating because said asshole had given me the best orgasms of my life, only to turn out to be a shitbag. The latter, apparently, was now required for any man I met, considering I was 0 for 3 in as many months.
Those women-only communes full of tiny houses weren’t looking so bad right about now.
After my run-in with the asshole, Laurel and I had spent the rest of the day getting settled in. While unpacking was never fun, I loved the process of setting up a new place. It’d been a while since we’d done that, and I’d missed the ritual of it.
Thankfully, the cottage had come mostly furnished, nearly all of which I actually liked. There was a feminine touch I appreciated, and I couldn’t help but wonder exactly whose feminine touch had helped with the design.
Before the sudden and completely unwelcome twinge of what absolutely wasnotjealousy could derail my thoughts, a knock sounded at the door.
“Thank god, I’m starving,” Laurel mumbled from where she sprawled on the couch, making no move to get up.
“No, no, you sit. I’ve got it.” Rolling my eyes, I abandoned my kitchen organization project and headed to the door, opening it to Quinn’s smiling face.
