“Gee, why would I ever think that .?.?.” she mutters.
“Willow.”
Another voice cuts in behind me. “Actually, Dallas,” Noah starts. “If she’s got a job, especially one in town .?.?. no one can sayyou’repaying her for .?.?. anything else.”
Wilder steps in, a little more tentatively than my lawyer. “He’s got a point, Dal. Let this one go.”
My jaw tightens as I pull my gaze off my bride-to-be to my brother. “Next time Rose gets a wild idea, I’m supporting it,” I mutter.
Wilder shrugs, glancing at the tiny brunette at his side. “I probably would too after I bitch about it for a day.”
I glare at him.
“We’ll be outside,” my brother says, then practically shoves the others out to the front porch.
I turn back to Willow, barely taking a moment to breathe. “What time will you be home?”
She crosses her arms. “Why do you care?”
I jerk at the question—and the attitude. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Her jaw clenches and she shifts her gaze momentarily. “I’m here for Ellie, right? I got her a capable sitter—who’ll have her in bed in an hour anyway. So, what does it matter where I am or what I’m doing?”
She’s being a brat. Why is she being a brat?
We’re eye to eye for a moment. “Fine. You got a job doing what you like, I get it. I won’t stop you.” I step closer, into her space. “But I want to know why you didn’t tell me.”
She lifts her chin. “Because we’re not a couple. We’re living under the same roof, but let’s be real, I’mno oneto you. You don’t tell me why you kissed me—or why you’re acting like it never happened. I don’t tell you that I found a life outside of it. Something else to do once a week—other thannotbeing the woman you thought you’d marry.” With both hands, she presses hard against my chest and I step back, letting her pass.
Something twists in my gut. Something that shouldn’t be hitting me so hard. But it’s sharp. It’s heavy.
And this time, I can’t ignore it.
I hurt her.
“Willow.” It’s barely a whisper—not enough conviction to stop her, but I want to. Imeanto. “Willow,” I try again, my feet moving this time, catching her arm as she crosses into the living room.
She flips around, eyes glancing up the stairs where Ellie and Ginger quietly pad across the landing from the bathroom to her bedroom.
I swallow, reading the message. “This every Saturday night?” I ask as softly as I can manage, the gruffness in my voice still lingering.
She blinks. “If they like me, yes.”
Then I’m screwed.
I sigh. “That’s when all the weirdos are out.” I don’t know what I’m saying. I’m not even sure I know what “weirdos” is supposed to mean. What I want to say is “single men.”
“Don’t be silly, weirdos are out every night. Least in my part of town,” she mutters, rolling her eyes.
Her last words should serve as the reminder we likely both need right now.
She doesn’t live here. This is temporary.
But all it does is twist me up a little more.
This is temporary.
I couldn’t tell you what I like about this little arrangement—but what I can say is, I don’t like the idea of Willow being anywhere else in the world but here.
