Page 21 of Crushed By Love

Tears flood my vision. When has anyone truly taken care of me? And now this, one mistake and I’m out thousands of dollars.

“You’re looking at ten grand in repair costs, maybe more. I pay fair market wages, but live-in housekeeping for an inexperienced woman such as yourself is hardly a lucrative endeavor. You can’t leave now and expect to pay us back for the damage you’ve caused in a timely manner. It would be so much easier to stay here and work it off.”

This. This moment is exactly why I’m going to college to pursue whatever can make me the most money. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I think there must be a way to get the damage fixed for less than what he’s expecting. But if there is, and that’s a big if, I wouldn’t know.

“Sounds to me like you can’t afford to quit this job.”

He’s right and he knows it.

And I’m too angry and upset to discuss this any further. “Fine. You win. I’m staying. I’ll pay for the repairs, just take it out of my checks.”

He nods. “I knew you’d see reason. And Arden, do me a favor, huh?”

I stare at him, not able to say a fucking word.

“Don’t talk to my wife about this. Quite frankly, it’s none of her business.”

None of her business? I nod numbly because there’s nothing else to do anymore. I’m an open chasm of vulnerability, all my insecurities picked apart by this intimidating man in a single conversation. I can’t stay in his presence a second longer, so I turn on my heels and race from the room.

I’m still exhausted to the bone, but I can’t imagine sleeping right now. I don’t want to be in this house for another second. I hurry downstairs and grab my book, then stride out onto the back lawn.

The summer scene before me is so wonderful in juxtaposition to my mood that I could cry. It’s a gorgeous late June evening in Nantucket, the sky an endless blue that will soon turn to a vibrant sunset. And the temperature? It’s absolute perfection. It even smells amazing out here, like ocean salt and fresh cut grass and the hydrangeas that bloom everywhere on this picturesque island. Everything about this place should be a dream come true, but I hate it here. They’ve made me hate it.

“Where are you going?” Ethan’s voice snaps me from my thoughts and my eyes dart to find him in the pool, arms folded over the edge as he peers up at me. I’m close enough to see the water droplets clinging to his eyelashes, noting the way they skim along his full lips. Another thing that is entirely unfair––he’s way too attractive, what with swimming laps every day on top of his already model-pretty face. I’ve peeked at his lithe body slicing through the water more than once but right now I really don’t need him asking me questions.

I throw my hands up, shooting him the death-glare I should’ve given his asshole father. “None of your business, Ethan.”

And then I stomp past the pool deck and out toward the gazebo overlooking the ocean. I just need to get away for a while so I can gather my thoughts. Even though Mr. King is right and I have to suck it up to pay off my mistake, I’d still like some time away from that house so I can get properly angry. Maybe scream into the wind or something.

Ten thousand dollars?

Ten grand is more than half of what I’ll make this summer after taxes. I’ll pay off whatever I have to and then the rest will go with me to college in August. At least I won’t have to pay for my lodging at school thanks to my scholarship, but the idea that fixing the varnish on some lousy wood will cost me thousands of dollars is bullshit. Is this what it means to be an adult?

I enter the gazebo like I have a vendetta against it, plopping myself down with my book in my lap. Ethan sits down next to me as if he has a right to my company.

“What do you want?” I snap.

“I want to know if you’re okay.” He sounds just as defensive as I do, which is annoying and only makes my hackles rise. I don’t care that he’s got a gorgeous body that’s half naked right now or that he smells good even with the chlorine overpowering everything or that a few water droplets are still sticking to his eyelashes and lips. None of that matters because he’s the spawn of Satan. Conrad King showed me exactly where his sons get their asshole tendencies.

“I’m fine,” I bite out. “Please leave me alone.”

His eyes narrow on the book. “And what’s so interesting about that book that you can’t talk to me for two seconds?”

I flip it over and stare down at the cover. It’s a smutty fantasy romance on the inside but on the outside it just looks like any other fantasy book. One of my bookish friends back home raved about it but it had a long waiting list at the library, so when I found the whole series at the used bookstore for only a couple dollars a book, I grabbed the set. “Trust me, this book is infinitely more interesting than anything you’d like to say to me.”

He raises an eyebrow. “That might be true.”

No, it’s not. I’m bluffing, but I’m also pissed off.

“Right. So go back to the pool and leave me alone.”

“Bree’s not coming around here anymore. I made sure of that. If I see her, I’ll throw her out myself, and same goes for anyone else who tries to mess with you.” He stands and begins back down the path toward the house. “You’re welcome,” he calls over his shoulder.

“So you and Cooper are the only ones who are allowed to mess with me, is that it?” I call back.

He stops and turns around, a handsome smirk on his face. “Not Cooper either. Just me.”

Oh boy.

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