“Hang on.” I glance at Rose as if I’m missing something, then turn back to Ginger. “What’s going on here? The girls’ party isnext week. We don’t need you watching Ellie tonight.”
Ginger’s grey eyes beam. “Oh, I know, I’m goin’ tothatparty.” Then she frowns, turning an accusing glare at Rose. “You didn’t tell him, did you?”
Rose bites her lip.
I don’t wait for her response. Flipping around, I move to the stairs, gripping the banister with a tight fist. “Willow,” I howl like a father of an out-of-control teenager, fully aware I’m making everyone in the room uncomfortable and not giving a shit.
The steady sound of heels moving across the floorboards overhead. My jaw hardens as I lift my gaze to the top of the stairs.
“Thank you so much, Ginger. She’s just upstairs, drying off her bath toys.” Willow’s voice is soft, calm even, as she comes downstairs, ignoring my outburst.
She’s in blue jeans and a black sequined top, hair down, eyes made up in a smoky purple. Lips red.
“I’ll just heat up dinner for you two.” She disappears into the kitchen.
“Did I miss something?” I call out to everyone in the room.
Wilder sighs, chin tilting toward his girlfriend. “She didn’t tell him?”
“Tell me what?”
The doorbell rings again. Noah and Silas let themselves in. “Reservations at eigh—whoa.” Silas frowns, glancing from my hard glare to Wilder. “What’s up with him?”
Wilder cocks his head to the couch. “You boys should have a seat for now. Might be a while.”
I run a hand down my face in frustration. “Don’t get comfortable. This’ll only take a minute.” I march to the kitchen just as Willow locks the back doors and shutters.
“Something you need to tell me?” I try to keep my voice down, I really do.
“Yes,” she answers without sparing me a glance. “I’m going out. So I asked Ginger to watch Ellie. She’s more than happy to.”
“I know she is. Not the point. When were you going to run that by me?”
She jerks, brown eyes widening at my tone. “Run that by you? I don’t owe you a—”
“I’ve got two paychecks that says you do,” I snap back. She looks too damn good and I’m picking up all kinds of bad vibes with her not telling me about this.
I hear one of the guys grunt in the background at my comment and my stomach twists. But I’m not a fan of being caught off guard.
Willow continues to clear the counter. Her silence pounds against my chest, indicating I might’ve crossed some line with theI’m your bossmove.
I’m about to take it down a level—or three—but then she answers.
“I got a job,” she says flatly.
I stare at her, heat rising again. “What do you mean, you got a job? You already got one.”
“It’s only Saturday nights. Playing at .?.?. a spot right here in town.”
“There’s over a dozen—which one?”
Her eyes flick sideways with no answer.
“Oh, you don’t want to tell me.” I move around the counter to her. “Think I’m going to show up and cause a scene?”
My focus shifts from being annoyed that she kept this from me until the last second, to comparing me to one of her exes.
She rolls her eyes and glances over my shoulder. Where I’m sure we’ve got an audience. After all, there’s hardly a wall between the living room and kitchen.
