meet his eyes with mortification painted on my cheeks, I’m sure. They’re hot.
Morgan takes my hand. “You good to go inside? I need to help Tryst.”
Inside. By myself. With Wiley there. Hm… Ah, no. Silly as it sounds and as much as I don’t want to confront prick face, coming off needy bugs me more. “I’ll be fine. I’ll find the room Ben’s in and hang out there.”
“You sure?”
You’re not some dainty girl, Shay. Suck it up. “Yeah, go. I’ll be fine.”
I’ve dealt with worse situations than Wiley, and I really don’t know what I was thinking about when I decided to spend the night in the Hummer. It was really immature of me. How embarrassing.
“Okay, if you’re sure you’ll be fine.” He nods toward the cabin. “He’s in the last room on the right, down the hall. It’s the only room we weren’t using.” He leans in and kisses my forehead.
I jerk away. Shit. “Sorry, I just think we need to slow down a little.”
He nods. “Okay. Night, Shay.”
“Night.”
He heads off in the direction where Tryst went.
I make quick work of finishing my cigarette and head into the cabin. The foyer has an open narrow walkway off to the side leading into a hall. That’s where Ben is. To the other side is an open stone kitchen and dining room. In front of me, stairs lead down to a sunk-in living room. The ceiling stretches high above my head into a point.
The place is enormous. Wiley’s dad must be raking in the dough . Bucket lights line each side of the ceiling, and skylights accompany them, with a huge antler chandelier hanging in the center. It’s beautiful. The log walls add to the cozy feeling and extend to the back wall that’s nothing but a gigantic window, a big cobblestone fireplace in the center. The flames are low and add warmth to the atmosphere. If I had money I’d definitely have a nice getaway like this.
Wiley’s nowhere to be seen. Ben’s sleeping. He doesn’t need me and I’m too wired with everything that has been going on to even attempt sleep. Maybe the guys do need help with the firewood after all. First I should check on Ben. Tryst said he was asleep, but after what happened he could’ve woken up and might need me. I need to make sure he’s okay.
I turn to head down the hall.
"Off to check on your brat?"
I jump and spin around.
Wiley is standing there with a beer in his hand.
Fucking asshole. Ben’s not a brat. What the hell has this guy got against kids? Being stuck here with Mr. Moody makes my stomach turn. Maybe I should apologize to relieve the tension. I don’t want to. He doesn’t deserve my apology, but if I don’t, it will be awkward for the rest of my stay. "Sorry I crashed–"
"No, you’re not." His eyes slither over me as he takes a swig of his beer.
"Excuse me?"
"Seemed like you were pretty damn happy to be riding shotgun next to my buddy." He scowls. "But if what you told me is true about your baby daddy, you’ll leave my buddy alone."
"I have no idea what you’re talking about."
He leans against the log wall dividing the kitchen and the sunken living room. "I saw you flirting with him. Watching him as he watched the road. I get it. A lot of women like Morg. A lot ."
"We’re just friends. Hell, I don’t even know if we’re that."
He shoves off the wall. "He wants to fuck you. I could tell by the way he was eying you up in your shop. Maybe he’ll like it and want to do it again. But that’s all you will ever be to a guy like him—just a fuck. If you’re fishing for a dad for your kid, you got the wrong guy."
I can’t believe he just said that to me. I’d slap him, but I’m in shock. "And if I just want to fuck him?"
He laughs, but somehow I don’t think it’s out of amusement. He moves closer to me, and my heart knocks against my ribs. "If that were the case, doll, you wouldn’t have your kid wrapping–"
The door opens and Morgan and Tryst walk in, arms full of firewood.
"What’s going on?" Tryst says and gives
Morgan takes my hand. “You good to go inside? I need to help Tryst.”
Inside. By myself. With Wiley there. Hm… Ah, no. Silly as it sounds and as much as I don’t want to confront prick face, coming off needy bugs me more. “I’ll be fine. I’ll find the room Ben’s in and hang out there.”
“You sure?”
You’re not some dainty girl, Shay. Suck it up. “Yeah, go. I’ll be fine.”
I’ve dealt with worse situations than Wiley, and I really don’t know what I was thinking about when I decided to spend the night in the Hummer. It was really immature of me. How embarrassing.
“Okay, if you’re sure you’ll be fine.” He nods toward the cabin. “He’s in the last room on the right, down the hall. It’s the only room we weren’t using.” He leans in and kisses my forehead.
I jerk away. Shit. “Sorry, I just think we need to slow down a little.”
He nods. “Okay. Night, Shay.”
“Night.”
He heads off in the direction where Tryst went.
I make quick work of finishing my cigarette and head into the cabin. The foyer has an open narrow walkway off to the side leading into a hall. That’s where Ben is. To the other side is an open stone kitchen and dining room. In front of me, stairs lead down to a sunk-in living room. The ceiling stretches high above my head into a point.
The place is enormous. Wiley’s dad must be raking in the dough . Bucket lights line each side of the ceiling, and skylights accompany them, with a huge antler chandelier hanging in the center. It’s beautiful. The log walls add to the cozy feeling and extend to the back wall that’s nothing but a gigantic window, a big cobblestone fireplace in the center. The flames are low and add warmth to the atmosphere. If I had money I’d definitely have a nice getaway like this.
Wiley’s nowhere to be seen. Ben’s sleeping. He doesn’t need me and I’m too wired with everything that has been going on to even attempt sleep. Maybe the guys do need help with the firewood after all. First I should check on Ben. Tryst said he was asleep, but after what happened he could’ve woken up and might need me. I need to make sure he’s okay.
I turn to head down the hall.
"Off to check on your brat?"
I jump and spin around.
Wiley is standing there with a beer in his hand.
Fucking asshole. Ben’s not a brat. What the hell has this guy got against kids? Being stuck here with Mr. Moody makes my stomach turn. Maybe I should apologize to relieve the tension. I don’t want to. He doesn’t deserve my apology, but if I don’t, it will be awkward for the rest of my stay. "Sorry I crashed–"
"No, you’re not." His eyes slither over me as he takes a swig of his beer.
"Excuse me?"
"Seemed like you were pretty damn happy to be riding shotgun next to my buddy." He scowls. "But if what you told me is true about your baby daddy, you’ll leave my buddy alone."
"I have no idea what you’re talking about."
He leans against the log wall dividing the kitchen and the sunken living room. "I saw you flirting with him. Watching him as he watched the road. I get it. A lot of women like Morg. A lot ."
"We’re just friends. Hell, I don’t even know if we’re that."
He shoves off the wall. "He wants to fuck you. I could tell by the way he was eying you up in your shop. Maybe he’ll like it and want to do it again. But that’s all you will ever be to a guy like him—just a fuck. If you’re fishing for a dad for your kid, you got the wrong guy."
I can’t believe he just said that to me. I’d slap him, but I’m in shock. "And if I just want to fuck him?"
He laughs, but somehow I don’t think it’s out of amusement. He moves closer to me, and my heart knocks against my ribs. "If that were the case, doll, you wouldn’t have your kid wrapping–"
The door opens and Morgan and Tryst walk in, arms full of firewood.
"What’s going on?" Tryst says and gives
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