“This is bullshit,” he mutters. “After everything I’ve done for you—”
“You can stop right there. I made you a wealthy man, and we both know it. It’s not my problem that you have a gambling addiction and can’t keep a quarter in your pocket.”
“You don’t know—”
“Oh, I know. You’ve made it clear that the money you get from me is the only thing that keeps you afloat, and I’m drying that up on you. Again, not my problem. I hope you get help for the addiction, but you and I are through. Even if I chose to stay in the sport—which I’m not—I would seek out a new agent. I’m not your meal ticket, Andy.”
He hangs up on me, and I set the phone down before I throw it against the wall. I’m not excited to go to Seattle next week, but I need to say goodbye to my team, and I need to sell my house.
When I’m finished there, my life will truly be settled here in Montana.
With a sigh, I turn off the computer and stand, roll my neck and stretch my back, and then follow my nose to the kitchen.
“What’s for dinner?” I ask when I see Willow standing by the sink.
Christ, she looks good in this kitchen. Yeah, it may be a little misogynistic, but it’s true. It’s been a few days since I found her in here, eating ice cream. I’d been thinking of her, had already taken a shower and fucked my hand with thoughts of her running front and center, and still, I couldn’t shake her.
And then I walked in here, and she was sitting there in practically nothing, like a goddamn wet dream.
And I took it too far. Since the next morning, after our talk, she’s tried to act normal, but there’s an edge to her that’s driving me nuts. Now that I know just how amazing she tastes, how hot she is, I want more of her.
“Meatloaf,” she says, pulling me out of my thoughts. “With potatoes, salad, and corn on the cob.”
“Awesome, thanks for making it.” I want to hug her from behind. Wrap my arms around her and pull her against me, bury my face in her neck, and then fuck her against the countertop.
To ensure I absolutely donotdo that, I open the cupboard for the plates to set the table, and Aiden walks into the house through the back door.
“You’re filthy,” Willow says with a laugh. “Go get a quick shower before dinner.”
“I can shower later,” he says, but she’s already shaking her head.
“No. You’re not sitting at the table like that. Go clean off that grime, and then you can eat.”
Aiden rolls his eyes, but he doesn’t sass her further and heads to his bedroom to shower and change. He spends the night out at the bunkhouse with the other hands, but he comes to the house every evening for dinner.
Just like Gid and I did when we were kids.
Willow and I take turns making dinner each night. We’ve settled into a nice routine.
Except I’d like that routine to include me buried inside her at every opportunity.
I’m not confused. I don’t need more time to think about it. Not touching this woman is driving me out of my fucking mind.
“Are you okay?” Willow asks me, and I turn to her with a frown. “You look tense. Honestly, you look kind of pissed off. Who peed in your Cheerios?”
I blow out a breath and set the table. “Iampissed off. Andy’s a dick.”
“I’ve been telling you for years that Andy’s a dick. You should have shaken him off a decade ago, but you’re too loyal.” She shakes her head, those blond curls of hers falling over her shoulders. She’s so fucking beautiful in her black tank top and denim shorts. Wills has legs for days, and her feet are bare, and all her perfect-as-fuck curves are on display. “Right?”
Christ, what were we talking about?
Right. Andy.
“He’s not taking the retirement well,” I reply and ignore the way she’s bending over to pull the meatloaf out of the oven.
I lied. I’m not ignoring it at all.
I bite my fist and hold my breath. Jesus, her ass should come with a warning label. And the way she’s bent over, those shorts ride up, and I can almost see butt cheek. I could slide my hand up her thigh, and—
