Page 16 of Sutton's CEO

“For heaven’s sake, Miss Landry, stop for a moment.”

I paused, not wanting to turn around.

“Can you at the very least turn around so I am not addressing your backside?”

The ever-formal Mark Williams had said the right thing to help my embarrassment begin to fade. By being his highhanded, bossy self, I noticed that I was feeling a little better.

Turning, I raised my chin a fraction. “Did you need something?”

“I need to know that you aren’t upset. You seemed as if the hounds of hell were at your feet. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

His heated gaze reminded me that he was every bit as aroused as I had been. Fire and lust raced through my veins as I remembered the dream. Had his hand been on my breast? I immediately wanted to know what fiction was and what had been reality.

He was looking at me like I was the dessert on the all-you-can-eat buffet line.

I shuffled my foot nervously. As much as I would have liked to climb back into bed with the luscious Mr. Williams, I knew it would have been a bad idea. With a bravado I didn’t feel, I answered. “There is nothing the matter with me. I was only going to take a quick shower so that the bathroom could be free for you and Earl. Was there something you needed?”

His eyes blazed for a moment. “Yes.”

The one word was inauspicious enough, but the way his gaze raked over my body left me without any doubts as to what he wanted. However, his next words surprised me.

“We will not speak of this,” he said coldly.

I raised a brow. “We won’t speak of what?”

He clenched his jaw, which was sexy as fuck with the shadow of beard that was growing there. His eyes went to my breasts and he said in a low voice, “You know very well what I am referring to.”

I snorted. “If I had my way, we wouldn’t have spoken of it now. So, if there isn’t anything else?”

Mark frowned as he looked at my hands. “Are you wearing that?”

I had a candy cane scarf and cutoffs in my hands. I felt the color infuse my cheeks. “Um, no. Hold on.” I whipped back around to find a short denim skirt and a faded peasant blouse, along with a bra and underwear. Without a word, I darted out of the bedroom and raced to the bathroom.

I passed Earl drinking a beer at my table. He just happened to be wearing my bathrobe.

With a nod he said, “I put my things in your washer, Sutton. I hope that is okay with you.”

I smiled at the old man. He was eccentric and slightly nuts, but he had been a fixture in my life for as long as I could remember. He grinned at me with those yellowed teeth, and I felt a surge of fondness for the old man. “Of course, Earl. You know that you are always welcome. Sit tight for a moment. After my shower I will be out in a bit to make you some breakfast.”

He nodded happily and turned to the newspaper that he likely picked up off my front porch. I knew it was only a matter of time before his wife Martha would be pounding on my door.

I hadn’t yet rinsed the conditioner out of my hair when I heard Martha screeching, “Earl, I know you are in there. Open the damn door. You always go to that whorehouse!”

Martha was everything that Earl was not. She liked to mention Mama’s previous profession as often as she could. I honestly hated her for years. But eventually, I got used to her. In her own twisted way, she did care about Earl.

I rinsed my hair and grabbed my towel. With a rushed dry job, I hurried to exit the bathroom with my towel hastily wrapped around me. It was then that I heard Mark speaking. Dear Lord! Why did he have to try and go to my defense? As sweet as it was, I knew it would only cause Martha to go off the deep end.

“You will kindly lower your voice. What kind of human being addresses people that way?”

“There are two men in here?” Martha’s shrill voice cut through Mark’s words. “Lordy-Lou, Sutton, you are just as bad as your mama.”

I stood there in my towel suddenly wishing that I had let Mark deal with things. Because not only was I dripping onto the linoleum, but I was likely giving everyone an eyeful. My towel did wrap around me, but it wasn’t super thick or plush. No doubt they could see just about everything.

Trying to play it off, I cleared my throat and said, “Good morning, Martha.” When the angry woman standing at my door in her second-best housecoat growled at me, I blurted out, “I was just grabbing a shower, but if you would like to stay for breakfast, you are welcome to.”

Mark’s jaw tightened. I could tell that he was fighting back the words that desperately wanted to come out. Eventually the words won. “How can you allow this…person, into your home? Did you not hear her call it a whorehouse?”

I winced. “Yes, I heard that. The walls of the trailer aren’t soundproof.”

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