Page 159 of Bitter Rival

A perfect sunset. Check.

Daisies galore. Check.

Sweaty palms. Check. Check. Check.

What the fuck is taking her so long? I open the app on my phone just as she pulls into the driveway in my dad’s old truck. Daisy refuses to let me buy her a new car so I got a full restoration job done on the pickup, and she always drives with the windows down, the breeze blowing through her hair, and music blasting.

I stride down the hallway, past framed photos Daisy has taken over the years. Her body of work and her talent never fails to astound me. She has a unique talent for breathing magic into the everyday, seemingly mundane things. Not only through her art but in her life, too.

When she walks through the front door, I’m waiting for her, ready to sweep her off her feet, but frown when I see she’s on the phone. “Your grandmother,” she mouths.

I groan and scrub my hand down my face.

Leave it to my grandmother to foil my plans. Daisy talks to her more than I do. Ever since we celebrated Christmas together, they’ve had long phone conversations that sometimes last an hour or more.

A bit excessive, if you ask me.

What the fuck is there to say that requires an hour on the phone?

“Of course, you’re staying with us,” Daisy says, flashing me a big smile and patting my arm like she’s trying to console me. “We love having you. I’ll get your room ready for you. Oh! I crushed the lavender just like you said, and it smells divine. I’ll put some in your room. You’ll sleep like a baby.”

Give me patience. It sounds like this conversation is just getting started.

I twirl my hand in the air, signaling for her to wrap up the call. Preferably right the fuck now.

In typical Daisy style, she completely ignores me and continues talking about a recipe for zucchini, my grandmother’s yoga sessions and upcoming trip to Tulum, and God knows what else as she saunters down the hallway, phone to her ear.

When she reaches the French doors, I wrap my arms around her and pull her against me, ensuring her back is to the vineyard. “Call her back tomorrow,” I say under my breath.

She rolls her eyes but she’s smiling. “Your grandson is getting impatient, so I need to go. But I’ll talk to you soon.” She smirks. “Don’t worry. I’ll keep him in line.”

When Daisy finally cuts the call and pockets her phone, I push her against the wall and cage her in my arms. “It’s cute the way you think you can keep me in line.” My hands roam down her sides and land on her hips.

She’s dressed in baggy jeans that ride low on her hips and a T-shirt that looks like it came from the kids’ department.

Locks of blonde hair have come loose from the messy bun and frame her makeup-free face.

She has never looked more beautiful to me.

I kiss her on the lips, and she lets out a little sigh as her arms wrap around my neck and her tongue slides into my mouth.

She tastes like summertime and sunshine and my sweetest, wildest dreams.

She tastes like home.

“Love you,” she murmurs, pulling back to look at my face. “And I do keep you in line. You’re so much better behaved than you were a year ago.”

“Not always.” I squeeze her ass and she laughs as I pull her flush against me, my teeth grazing the line of her jaw and my dick swelling in my jeans.

When am I not hard for Daisy?

Let’s face it, fucking her out of my system was destined to fail. I still want her all the goddamn time.

It takes every ounce of my self-restraint to stop myself from pushing down her jeans and burying myself inside of her.

We have all night for that, so I take a step back and she tilts her head, a smile on her lips.

“You know what today is?”

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