Winter’s head shakes. “That’s called prostitution, and it’s illegal in all states.”
“Except for Nevada,” I chirp.
She blinks at me. “I’m not surprised that you know that. You’re disgusting, do you know that?”
I shrug. “I’ve been called worse.”
By my own family, even.
But I don’t like to think about them.
She deadpans, “I’m sure you have, Tommy.”
My jaw tics. “Don’t call me that.”
“Why not?” she prods.
“Because I don’t like it,” I growl.
Theycalled me that name.
I will never be Tommy again.
I do my best to calm my tone and change the topic to something safer. “You’re in a particular mood today. Now I really am curious what you and Emaly talked about.”
Winter pushes off the wall and stalks over to me with a deadly, narrow expression. “Are you really wondering why I’m in a bad mood after what you pulled? I worked my ass off to organize this event and all the others on your stupid apology tour, all to be toldnot to come.”
The smugness on my face drops when I see the genuine hurt lingering in her eyes. It makes the pretty green color dim. “I had nothing to do with you getting taken off this project,” I say, softer than either of us expects. It takes her off guard. “That was my manager’s doing. If Ashton had come to me first, I would have shut it down before he ever went to your boss.”
She scoffs. “You expect me to believe you?”
One word. “Yes.”
She rolls her eyes, and from this close, the mossy color has specks of gold in them. They’re beautiful and forgiving, even when they’re full of distrust. “Well, I don’t. If you were that pissed about me getting your number—”
I bark out a laugh, silencing her.
“Is that what you think happened?” I muse, studying her stricken face. It is. She thinks this is some sort of act ofvengeance for Emaly passing her my number. “If anything, I’m upset youdidn’tuse it.”
She crosses her arms on her chest, and I can see how the movement pushes her tits up in her tee. The curve of her breasts peeks over the V of her neckline, and I have no shame in admitting that I like what I see. Her boobs may not be big, but they’d be the perfect handful—a perfect mouthful too. That’s all a man really needs.
“Stop staring at my boobs!” she snaps at me.
I slowly look from her chest to her eyes unapologetically. “I was just returning the gesture. You looked first.”
Her nostrils flare in irritation. “I wasn’t exactly expecting you to be shirtless when your wife shoved me in here.”
My lips curl up at the sides. “Feel free to even the playing field and take yours off. I’d love to see what’s underneath.”
Winter gapes at me, as if she’s actually shocked I would suggest such a thing. “I am not taking my shirt off. What is wrong with you?”
“That list would take too much time to go over, sweetheart.”
Her fists clench and unclench from where they’re tucked under her armpits. “Don’t call me that. I’m not your sweetheart. Or your baby. Or your anything. I’m Winter.OnlyWinter to you.”
It’s hot when she’s bossy.
My eyes drag along the front of her. From the bright purple color on her toenails that matches the one on her fingers, all the way up to her blond hair resting in loose waves past her shoulders. I flick the pink strands. “I like this,” I compliment. “New?”
