“Boy, you do know this is a cattle ranch? There probably isn’t an item you will eat tonight that doesn’t have some sort of something beefy in it,” my dad says, clearly flabbergasted by our guest.
“Actually, I can get you a salad.” My mom stands from her chair, walks to the kitchen, and pulls open the fridge.
“That’s very nice of you, thank you, Mavis.” Josh pulls his hands from the table, leaving me holding the potatoes.
“Her name is Mabel,” Willow reminds him, her cheeks flushed with rosy hues, and she offers me a small, tight smile. I hate when she forces smiles, and I hate even more that she’s having to make up for his lack of people skills.
I hold no judgment that he’s vegan; there are some health benefits, like a good cholesterol level, but what I can’t get behind is not taking care of your woman. It takes no effort to hold the potatoes while she dishes herself some. Does he help her dish up her plate? No. Can he remember the woman's name who went above and beyond to make a nice meal? Also no.
It’s now that I’m completely confident that the man in front of me is a fucking pussy.
“Right, sorry.” His cheeks are now shaded a bright red, also, so at least he has the decency to be embarrassed about that.
The rest of dinner goes by without any more outbursts until Josh’s phone rings. “I’m sorry, I’m going to have to step away for a second.”
“No problem.” Aspen sags with relief the second he’s out of the room.
Willow looks around at everyone, silently moving what’s left on her plate around, worrying her lip. “I’ll be right back. I just need to run to the restroom.”
“Let me show you where it is,” I volunteer. She hasn’t been in the new house before and I’d love a second alone with her.
“Oh. Yeah. Okay.” She nods, and I let myself up and walk to the hallway toward the bathroom and away from my eavesdropping siblings.
“Thanks for showing me—"
I whirl and turn on her. “What the hell are you doing with a guy like that?”
Her shoulders instantly tense, rising up to her ears. “What are you talking about?”
“What am I talking about?” I encroach further in her space, caging her against the walls.
Her breathing gets quicker as she stares up at me, wild eyed.
“I’m talking about you deserving better. You deserve someone who takes care of you. Someone who cherishes you. That man does not know what he has in his hands and it’s a damn shame.”
“Weston—" her mouth opens, but no more words come out.
“I may not be good enough for you, but I can tell you right now, I’m better for you than that worthless excuse of a man. If you were ever to be mine again, there wouldn’t be a second of the day that you would question my devotion. Now ask yourself, can you say the same thing about the man who gave you that ring?”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” Her brows knit together as she stands taller. She can be mad at me, that’s fine. When she gets over it, she’s going to realize I’m right.
“I may not know a lot of anything else, but the one thing I know better than anything is you. We could be apart for decades and I’d still be able to read you like a book. But I’m not going to push you. When you realize I’m what you need, I’ll be here. I’m never making the mistake of letting you go again.”
She stares at me like she’s a deer in headlights. Her throat bobs, and my fingers inch to run over it, run my thumb against the underside of her jaw. But this isn’t the time for that.
I lean in and nearly close the distance between our lips. Her mouth is calling to me like I’m a man starved, because I am. For her taste, her tongue battling mine. “Bathrooms on the left,” I whisper. As much as I want my lips to sear into her skin and for her to feel me hours after I’ve left, I pull myself away. When I claim her, she will be mine completely.
I walk down the hall, finally feeling something settle in. She may have a ring on her finger, but I can tell you right now, she ain’t marrying him. The only person who’s going to change her name is me. I’ve seen my competition and it’s only a matter of time now.
Chapter 12
Willow
By the time Sunday morning rolls around, I need a bit of alone time. Because I am one teensy weensy complaint away from ending up on an episode ofSnapped.
Watching Josh here and seeing how he is when he isn’t in his perfectly controlled element. It was a wake-up call. I feel like someone just dumped ice on my head and I’m finally awake. Apparently, he can complain about me, and I take that just fine, but bitching about my hometown is too much for me. I’m glad I’ve at least distinguished the line of how much disrespect I’m willing to take.
Josh is still sleeping; he hasn’t figured out that the bed is a blowup mattress, thank God. Him still sleeping is a relief because if he’s sleeping, he isn’t talking about how the cabin is too rustic and needs some modern amenities. Or that the birds are chirping too loud. Who the fuck complains about birds?
