Page 53 of Love Me, I Dare You

“Whatever, Monty. You need a woman to soften up that Poppa Bear exterior you got going on. Maybe someone to call you Daddy if you’re into that.” With a shrug of her shoulders, she grabs a pastry from the box, shoves it between her teeth, and heads toward the door.

I spit out my coffee as I nearly choke on it, laughing at the scowl on Monty’s face when Monroe said the wordDaddy. Though, I immediately stop when his angry glare turns on me.

She smiles at me as she takes a bite of the pastry. Not just any pastry, the only other blueberry scone.

“Brat,” I murmur under my breath as she walks out. Monty deepens his brooding scowl when he overhears me, though he doesn’t scold me, just grunts and walks over to set the coffee in his hand on the island.

“Ahh, so this isn’t the first time Monroe sends your cute little assistant out to tend to your needs, brother?” I ask, though I already know the answer.

“Since the day I hired her almost three years ago.”

“She’s real pretty, Monty. You could do worse.” Monty’s glare threatens to burn me alive, but I’m just fucking with him, trying to get a rise out of the broody bastard. “Chill, I’m fucking with you. But what’s the problem? I thought brunettes were your type.”

I know nothing about his recent dating history, which if Monroe’s trying to work her matchmaking magic on him, it’s not a good sign.

Right before he left Vanderbilt to come back home to care for Monroe, Monty was in a serious relationship with a girl named Marissa Shay, whom he’d practically dated since freshman year of high school. Marissa was also born and raised in Crossroads and followed him out to Tennessee when he received a full scholarship to play football for Vanderbilt. Despite them dating for nearly six years, I only met her a handful of times. She never came around the house, because she couldn’t stand being around my parents and I was too young to go anywhere with them when they’d hang out.

Things seemed pretty intense and were moving quickly, but when he told her he’d be moving back home to care for his baby sister, she dumped him. Apparently, the prospect of my brother one day making it to the NFL was what interested her more than actually being there for him when he needed her most.

Once he threw his dream away, there was no reason for her to stay. To make matters worse, and dig the knife even further, she moved on with his best friend.

It fucked him up, and if he didn’t have Monroe relying on him to be the father figure, the parent she never had, who knows how deep he would have fallen.

Monty reaches into a cabinet under the island and takes out a large cardboard box full of floor tile samples. “Candace is a great girl, but not only is she too young for me, she’s my employee. I don’t shit where I eat. I don’t sleep on the job.”

“She can’t be that young?”

“Twenty six I think,” he says, setting a few tile options on the counter.

I laugh at the absurdity. He made her seem like she was a child when she’s only about ten years younger than him. “You act like she is twenty or something.”

“Can we stop talking about this? Candace works for me. There’s no way. Just drop it. You’re starting to sound like Monroe.”

My laugh deepens and so does the glare he’s giving me but I can’t help it. I missed this—missed being around my brother and honestly ticking him off with my stupidity was one of my favorite pastimes growing up. “Monty, if Monroe’s worried about your dating life so much, it must mean something's going wrong.”

He lets out a scoff, pointing his finger at me with a sharp chuckle. “I could ask you the same thing? Tell me, have you admitted to yourself that you’re still in love with Bailey King?”

Asshole. Of course, he had to go there.

The answer is no. Not only have I not admitted to myself that I’m in love with Bailey, it can’t be true.Do I want her?Of course, I’m not a fucking idiot.

The woman is unreal. Gorgeous and sexy, and fuck, her lips are the perfect soft pillows I’d love to rest my dick on, watching the way her lips wrap around my cock as I fuck her mouth. The feeling of her curves under my fingers is incredible and I want nothing more than to grab onto her thick and wide hips while I thrust my cock inside of her and stretch her until she takes all of me.

But love?He’s got to be fucking kidding me.

Do I care about her?Yeah, it’s hard not to when she reminds me so much of the girl I used to know and the friendship we had before I ruined things. However, the woman can’t fucking stand me, and the feeling’s mutual. If anything, I just have to fuckher out of my system and get her to loosen up around me. She probably hasn’t gotten laid by anyone who knows what they’re doing since the last time we were together.

The sudden rage that burns through me at the thought of anyone else coming fucking near her is unreasonably irritating.

Monty laughs at the sudden scowl on my face the longer I think about what he’s said and I'm done with this conversation.

“You know what? Fuck you, Monty.” Trying to change the subject before I turn into a woman and try to figure out the meaning behind my emotions, I pick up one of the tile samples from the counter. It’s the more simple one of the three, a white tile with a gray and light blue design. “Tell me, what the fuck are these for?”

Chapter Twenty-One

Bailey

The way you taste hasn’t left my mind. It’s all I thought about for a decade.

---