Chapter thirteen
Ronan
“You didn’t have to pick me up.”
“Hello to you, too.” I grin at Willow as I approach where she’s standing outside of her apartment building, her defensive posture of folded arms and a narrow gaze doing nothing to deter me. Being alone with her in her office, the temptation to kiss her was intense. But she said no, and I sure as hell wasn’t gonna ignore that. Still, after punishing myself in the batting cages for an hour, I went back to my hotel and lay on the bed thinking about her.
Thinking about Hawaii.
About the feel of her body against mine, the sounds she made when she orgasmed, the easy smiles and laughter that would come just being around her. Even if she doesn’t want to acknowledge anything between us, thereissomething between us. I may not have the time or energy for it, but I also can’t ignore it.
She walks toward my rental SUV, and I jog ahead to open the door for her. “Thanks,” she says grudgingly. I noticed this in Hawaii, her surprise when I’d do small things like open a door or hold out her chair. This is a woman who’s not used to letting men — or probably anyone, if I had to guess — take care of her.
I shut the door and hurry around to my side, sliding in before I say, “I should be the one thanking you. I wasn’t sure if you’d actually go through with it, coming with me, I mean. But I do appreciate your help. Your uncle wasn’t wrong when he said I was worried about finding a good place for Peyton.”
As I reverse out of the parking spot in front of her building, I see her body start to relax. “Yes, well, you promised me lunch.”
I chuckle at that. “I did. Wherever you want to go.” I pull out onto the street, the GPS already directing me to the first house.
Twenty minutes later, we pull into a long driveway, coming to a stop behind a black sedan. I can see an older gentleman waiting for us, but I look past him to the imposing house behind him. It’s tall and dark, almost Gothic in a way, and giving off mausoleum vibes. “Yeah, this is gonna be a no. Can you imagine a kid running around here?”
Willow giggles, the first sign I’ve seen that maybe she’s starting to relax around me. “It doesn’t exactly have much curb appeal, does it? Maybe it’s better inside. Come on, let’s at least meet the realtor.”
She climbs out before I can get around to open her door, and when I reach her side, I cup her elbow and lean down. “Next time, you wait until I can open your door. Got it, Cherry?” I whisper before straightening and extending my hand out to the realtor. “Hi, Ronan Sinclair, and this is Willow. Thanks for meeting us on such short notice.”
“Not a problem. I’m Ken, lovely to meet you both. Our agency is thrilled to help another Trident family find their home. This first one is just to get us started since it’s in your preferred neighbourhood and meets many of your criteria. Four bedrooms, large kitchen, and an enclosed backyard.” He unlocks the front door and holds it open. “After you.”
As soon as we step inside, Willow comes to a stop, shaking her head. I can tell she’s holding back her laughter, and so am I. Black and white marble floors lead to an ornate curved stairway. Huge vases hold what seem to be very dusty fake flowers. There’s fucking wallpaper on the walls, and a crystal chandelier hanging down. All of it is very dated in appearance, even I can tell that. This place is definitely not any better on the inside.
“Ken, I can tell you right now, this place won’t work. Not with a four-year-old,” I say.
“Of course, I had a feeling you might say that but wanted to get a better feel for your tastes. Your child will want something more homey and comfortable. Mrs. Sinclair, would you like to see any more, or shall we move on?”
“Oh, I’m not —” Willow starts to protest.
I, on the other hand, am sensing an opportunity for some entertainment, maybe a way to get her to remember how much fun we have together. “I think we’re both ready to see something else.”
Ignoring the sharp elbow that lands in my side, I drape my arm over her shoulders. “Come on, sweetheart, let’s look at another house.” It’s hard to keep the amusement out of my tone as Willow walks stiffly beside me to the front door.
Ken locks up behind us as we move toward the vehicles, and Willow hisses at me. “What the hell are you doing? He thinks we’re married!”
I just shrug, ignoring the agitation rolling off her in waves. “Just go with it, what’s the harm?”
“The harm is that we’re lying to a stranger. The harm is that we —”
Once again, she’s cut off, and I have to hide my smirk as Ken joins us. “Alright, then. Let’s move on to house number two. It’s close to the stadium, with excellent schools and a lovely backyard.”
“Sounds great, we’ll see you there,” I say jovially, steering Willow over to the SUV. I open her door, averting my eyes from the glare she’s shooting me.
Once I’m in the car, she turns on me. “Seriously?”
I keep my eyes trained forward as I follow Ken down the long drive. “If it really bugs you, I’ll correct him when we get to the next house.” Chancing a glance over, I can see her lips twitching. “Is that what you want me to do?”
Willow doesn’t answer, and the silence sits between us the whole way until we pull up to the second house. This one is much more my style, with a porch, a red front door, and a tidy, well-kept garden that doesn’t seem like it would require too much upkeep.
This time, she does the right thing and waits for me to open her door. Watching her closely, I wait to see if she’ll give me a sign of how she wants to manage things. To my shock, she handles it by threading her arm through mine and beaming at Ken. “Oh, look at this one, sugarplum, it’s so perfect.”
Sugarplum? She’ll pay for that one later. “Let’s see the inside before we get too excited, honeybun,” I reply, squeezing her arm to my side.
