Page 4 of Never Fear (Whiskey Ridge)
After hours of talking, the two of them finally stood, making their way toward the front door. I perched on the kitchen stool, pretending I wasn’t paying attention. All I’d done while eavesdropping was scroll through our spreadsheet for the ranch—up and down, not seeing a damn number or word through the hazy need to sort this note outnow.
Booker was giving Brynne her privacy with McKenna, and Henley had left without a word after taking a quick shower. I was pissed as fuck that I seemed to be the only one wanting to talk about the damn paper. This wasn’t just another fucking Tuesday, assholes. This was her life we were playing with. And now she was going to leave and go about her damn night like nothing happened.
That was how people ended up dead in a fucking ditch.
As soon as Brynne said her goodbyes at the door and headed up the stairs, I didn’t waste a second before shutting the laptop and following McKenna.
She was descending the last step as I opened the front door and stepped outside.
“You need to be careful,” I warned, shutting the door behind me a little too hard.
“I’m always careful, cowboy,” McKenna shot back, not bothering to look over her shoulder as she continued toward her SUV.
Pressing my lips into a firm line, I hurried down the steps, only stopping once her arm was in my grasp and I was spinning her around. I ignored the strawberry scent that wafted off her like a siren’s call. “Whoever wrote that note isn’t happy with you.”
She smiled. Fuckingsmiled. “Not many people are.”
I dropped her arm, crossing my own. My mouth opened to speak, but before any words could come out, she cut me off.
“And don’t tell me you have a plan. Especially one that involves me moving in with you like Brynne did with Booker, because I can already tell you, it’s not fucking happening. I like my closet space.”
I let out a humorless laugh, tongue darting over my lips as I looked out at the fields behind her, begging them for an ounce of patience. “Of course, you do.”
Her arms crossed her chest to mimic my stance. “Don’t pretend to care, Austin. Maybe other girls have told you the wholeprotective assholeact is a cute look or whatever, but for me, it’s downright vomit-inducing.”
My brows shot up, eyes trained on her again. “Vomit-inducing?”
She dipped her chin, her gaze doing a quick once-over. “You heard me.”
I ran a hand through my hair, looking out at the horses grazing by the fence. In the dim light of the moon, I could just make out their silhouettes.
If she wanted to be difficult, then so be it. I’d show her exactly why that wasn’t a wise choice.
“Alright.”
She blinked, like she wasn’t expecting me to concede so easily, but quickly masked it with another tip of her chin. “Good. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a date.”
I rolled my lips together as she turned on her heel and continued on her way. I watched her ass sway in that little skirt of hers, watched her long legs move with each step toward her vehicle, and with each one, I knew for certainshe didn’t have a date. She was only trying to get under my skin.
Before she was in her car, I headed back inside.
If she wanted to play, I’d play.
Unfortunately for her, though, she may not like my methods.
That was what made the game so fun.
It was the sixth time Marv, McKenna’s boss and owner of the diner where she worked, had stolen a glance at her ass.
No, that was being polite.
It wasn’t a glance.
It was a full-on gawk. An adjustment of his cock each time. A bob of his throat as he swallowed.
My teeth had to be ground to the base at this point, and it wasn’t because of the cold. I’d nearly cracked one of them when she bent over to grab a fork off the ground and Marv palmed his crotch. It took everything in me not to kill him right there in front of everyone.
The waitresses’ attire was inappropriate at best, but it seemed none of the patrons minded, given Marv’s Diner was one of the only places to eat in town.
