With one brow up, the corner of my mouth twitches. “Oh, just one. Pretty big one, actually. Feisty little creature, found it on my bed of all places.”
Wilder jerks. “Holy shit. Did ya toss it back outside?”
I tear my eyes off Rose lazily to look at my brother. “Oh, I thought about it.”
“But you didn’t, right?” Rose stammers.
Wilder folds his arms, suspicion etched across his face as he leans back against the wall, watching us.
“No,” I say flatly.
Rose releases a breath, then looks at Wilder with a tentative smile.
He pushes off the wall and rolls his eyes with a sigh. “Feel free to drop Willow off here later.” Then he addresses Rose. “I’ll go reschedule our weekend getaway.”
7
I stuff the sheets into the washer and start the cycle, grateful the house is equipped with working machines. Washing his sheets won’t clear my conscience for last night—it’s just common courtesy. The comforter, on the other hand .?.?. No way I’m stuffing that California king into the washer after just one night. Not like I used it much, practically kicked it off in the middle of the night with that space heater cranked up so high.
And I .?.?. may have kicked off my panties in the process. But I willnotbe judged. Broody Dallas I met at the bar months ago was sexy enough. But shirtless Dallas? All rough-edged with a thread of tenderness? That was damn near criminal. How else is a girl to shake visions of broad chests and abs for days out of her system?
Hence the extra splash of fabric softener this morning.
I step back into the master bedroom for my things, squinting against the sunlight cutting through the uncovered windows. Dust catches in the rays as I pad across the cool floorboards looking for those damned panties.
I thought stripping the bed would help, but they’re still missing.
I fling pillows aside again, frustrated. It couldn’t have been a sock or scrunchie I lost. Ithadto be underwear.
Giving up for now, I grab the rest of my things and make my way down before Mountain Man returns and finds me snooping. Last thing I need is for him to “help me look” for them.
With any luck, a coyote will sneak in and sneak off with them. And that’ll be the most action my panties have seen in over a year.
I inhale deep to clear my mind and find that peace I felt when I settled in last night. The place still faintly smells of fresh lumber and something muskier, earthier.
My gaze drifts over the wall as I make my way down the stairs. The wooden beams, the rustic wagon-wheel chandelier, the subtle, intentional way the still-wrapped furniture has been placed.
My heart breaks for him in a new way.
And a little bit for her. She’ll never get to see what he’s done here.
I reach the bottom step with a creak and nearly jump out of my skin with the sudden sound.
“Jesus.”
Shaking it off, I hurry to the kitchen, taking in the view of the riverbend and mountains through the open windows, remembering it with the sunset last night.
I place my oversized tote on the counter and begin searching for my charger in the black hole of a bag. A dead battery played a key part in my inability to call or text Rose last night. You know, just to let her know that if I’m arrested for trespassing, I’m taking her down with me as my accomplice.
I growl in frustration, giving up on my charger—well now, that’s two things I’ve lost. But that also depends on where you start. This morning—two. Four days ago—my apartment, my mother’s respect, assuming I once had it, and basically most of my belongings, since I have no doubt Billy will have sold them all by now.
Uh-oh. I check the time on the clock above the stove. Nine fifteen. Yep, it’s after nine and I’m spinning out of control.
I need coffee.
My predator eyes start scanning the dusty white countertops looking for a clue that there’s caffeine in this place.
It’s not looking good. Not even a kettle.
