Page 30 of Smooth As Whiskey

She growled, “I don’t see how anyone wouldn’t be.”

I nodded.

We were both silent. I was taking in her words, and she seemed to be gearing up to say something, and I didn’t like that.

Normally, Sutton just said what was on her mind, rarely did she hesitate.

But I’d noticed that lately, she seemed to be hesitating with me.

And I didn’t like it.

I know I caused it.

But I didn’t fucking like it.

Her voice floated over the cold breeze when she said, “You just have to love her Irish. I know the concept is foreign to you, but that’s all she needs. Feed her. Clothe her. Hold her. Just love her.”

And with that, she walked into the house and came back out moments later with her bag, and without a word or a glance at me, she walked down the steps and headed to her car.

I should have called out.

Should have said something.

Like, what the fuck did she mean that the concept of love was foreign to me?

Chapter 9

Sutton

I felt like a coward as I fled from Irish’s house.

But I couldn’t help it.

After what he said that he didn’t know how to do any of it, and with the things I gathered about his past, I was starting to see things clearly now.

And maybe, just maybe, he didn’t realize how I felt about him.

And I knew that was true.

With each minute that passed.

So, I would need to tell him, at the same time I showed him.

With a plan in place, I crawled into my bed at the clubhouse and fell fast asleep.

The next couple of days passed by in a blur. I saw Irish when I could, and nine times out of ten, I was fast asleep on his couch when he walked in the door.

Sometimes, that was where I slept after he carried Maisie to her bed.

But not once did he carry me to his.

As that thought crept into my head, I began to wonder if I had made Irish out to be more than what he really was.

He didn’t help me carry things.

He didn’t let me sleep beside him.

He fucked me perfectly.

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