“It’s not that simple. My brother is meeting me here to sort out my grandmother’s estate. And I need someplace quiet to write music.”
Emma laughs. “Ahh. Well, quiet and Daisy are two words that don’t usually go hand in hand.”
“No shit. She’s having a damn corgi party right now on my lawn. I have a ton of work to do. I don’t need Daisy flirting and following me around like a little lost puppy. Archie is bad enough,” I say in frustration. “She’s a pain in my ass. And a menace.”
Even as I say the words, I know they’re complete and total bullshit. Absolutely untrue. I’m mad because I don’t want the temptation of having her around. Keeping my distance is impossible when Daisy is there every morning, smiling at me from across the kitchen table, parading around in a little bikini, throwing parties for dogs, encouraging me to sing karaoke, teasing me into kissing her, and doing all those Daisy-like things she does. She charms me and drives me mad in equal order.
But I can’t admit any of that to Emma, so I take the easy way out by pretending to be annoyed.
A clank of metal catches my attention.
I whirl around to see Daisy at the open French door leading to the pool. Her hand shifts to her chest, and her stacked gold bracelets jangle.
“Daisy,” I say, my stomach sinking. Her arrested expression and stark, flat eyes tell me she overheard the lies I just spouted.
Her face etched in pain, she gives a brief nod and then clears her throat. “No following you around,” she says in a tight, shaky voice. “Noted.” Her chin lifts.
She’s silent for a long moment. I see the sheen of tears in her eyes. She wipes moisture from her cheek, her face a mask. “You are not worth crying over,” she finally grits out. And marches back outside.
Fuck.I stand there frozen, watching her storm away. When she reaches the pool’s edge, she turns, and her defiant gaze meets mine. She slowly, with a hard, determined stare, unbuttons her white embroidered shirt. One button after the other pops free, exposing more of her tanned skin and white bikini. Then she goes for her jean shorts, releasing the button and easing them down. Her bikini bottom is white as well. My mouth dries up. She shrugs the open shirt off her shoulders and steps out of the shorts, leaving them in a heap.
She looks away and bends down, the move showing off her small, shapely ass as she takes off her sandals. When she stands, she does a slow turn back toward me with a challenging glare. She removes her bracelets and lets them fall to her clothes pile.
I can’t look away. Next, she removes her gold dangly earrings. And then she undoes her braids, shaking out her long curls, all while watching me with narrowed eyes.
I gulp. One side of her mouth tilts up, more sneer than smile. The expression is so uncharacteristic of her that I feel disoriented at seeing it, especially when pointed in my direction.
She finally breaks eye contact and turns to the group of dogs and pet owners.
“The pool is now officially open,” she cries and dives smoothly in with theatrical grace.
Archie barks and leaps in after her, doing a perfect dive, front paws entering first. I didn’t even know the dog enjoyed swimming.
The rest of the group laughs and strips out of their outer clothes. The dogs yip and run around wildly.
“Ryder, Ryder!” Emma’s impatient voice comes from far away.
Shit. I forgot about her.
I lift the phone back to my ear.
“What happened to you?” Emma asks.
“I don’t even fucking know,” I say.
“Well, what do you want to do about Daisy?”
I shake my head, even though Emma can’t see me.
Because I especially don’t fucking know about that.
CHAPTER 17
Daisy
(TEN YEARS AGO)
Dear Diary,
