Page 34 of Letting it Ride

The guy she’s with puts a hand to his forehead, shading his eyes from the sun as he looks at me. “Hey. I’m Grant. You know Addie?”

Damn right I know Addie.

“Yeah. We’ve got somewhere to be, though. Let’s go.” I motion to her.

She looks between me and Grant, then finally slides off the edge of the daybed. “Bye, Grant. Let’s hang out again soon.”

She gives him a wink—a goddamn wink—as she picks up her shoes and walks away ahead of me, and I’m almost certain it was entirely done for my benefit, not Grant’s. It’s like she’s trying to piss me off. And it’s working.

Can you spank adults? Because there’s nothing I’d like more than to pull this little brat over my knee and tell her to get her shit together.

“Addie, what are you doing?” I ask when I catch up to her. “Who the fuck is that guy?”

Addie whirls on me, the same fury in her eyes as what I saw at the pool, when Harper stopped by. Guess the time to cool off didn’t work the way I was hoping. It seems to have been simmering instead, ready to boil over.

“I’m doing what I want, Cam. He’s a guy I met. None of your business.” She pushes open the gate of the activity area, walking out onto the main deck, flip-flops still in her hand.

“Put on your shoes.” I avoid the main topic, saying the first thing that pops into my mind.

She plants her hands on her hips, narrowing her eyes. “Or what, Cam? I’m not a six-year-old. You might think you’re here to keep an eye on me, but I’m an adult and I can do what I want. Like walk barefoot. Or flirt with guys.”

I cringe.Shit. That wasn’t my point. I panicked, okay?

The last thing I want to do is treat her like a little kid. I want to protect her, but one look at her body and it’s clear—excruciatinglyclear—that she’s an adult.

When we get to the door of our cabin, Addie is even more fired up than before, if that’spossible. I brace myself. I’ve had the dubious pleasure of watching Addie in action when she’s furious, and it’s mildly entertaining when you’re not the target.

When her fury is focused on you, however, it’s terrifying.

“Addie, I’m just trying to look out for you. I care about you, you know that. I just don’t want you to do something you regret.” Dear God, I hope reason will eventually win out here, but I have my doubts.

As soon as the door shuts, I know I’m right. There’s no reasoning with her. Addie’s volume increases exponentially once we’re in the privacy of our own suite.

I’ve been a witness to a handful of Hurricane Addie occurrences, but never the target. Looks like that’s about to change.

“Camden Allen, it is not your job to take care of me like I’m a goddamn teenager or kid you need to monitor. If you don’t want me, fine. But you can’t keep me from dating at all!”

She stamps her foot and takes a step toward me. I open my mouth to tell her it’s not that I don’t want her, but the words freeze in my throat.

Addie’s shirt is in the middle of the floor, and as she steps toward me, one foot lands on theshirt while a toe of her other foot hooks into the fabric, sending her pitching toward me.

I react instinctively, my hands going out to keep her from falling, and I catch her in my arms, holding tight.

She’s shaking while I hold her—from anger or the adrenaline rush of falling or something else, I’m not sure—and breathing hard. I keep my arms around her, gripping her to my chest and do my best to ignore my own racing heart and how right this feels.

How perfectly she fits.

How warm and soft and solid and fragile she is, all at the same time.

How easy it would be to kiss her, if she tilted her head the tiniest bit.

Addie’s wrong. It’s not that I don’t want her. I do. I can’t, though. Not even the brush of my lips over her head that I want to offer for comfort.

Instead, I grit my teeth and force myself to wait patiently until her shaking eases a bit, then let her go and take a step back, away from temptation. My anger has dissipated. All that’s left is a need to protect her. I’ll do whatever it takes to make Addie happy, I realize. Even if it leaves me miserable.

“You okay?” I ask gently. “Sorry for grabbing you. I didn’t want you to fall.”

She shakes her head, but doesn’t say anything.

---