Page 8 of Saddled in Secrets
Like now, our hands almost touch with every step. How easy it would be to clasp her palm in mine. Would she allow it? We still haven’t discussed how I stood and listened to her fuck a dildo. Maybe she doesn’t know I was there. Or it might be a mistake she’d prefer to forget. I can settle for her friendship. That’s more than I deserve.
My phone buzzes with an incoming text. I pause next to an artist’s booth and dig it out of my pocket. Bianca purses her lips, already assuming it’s from her brother. She’s not wrong.
Brody: Need you to do something for me.
Me: Name it.
What he sends next puts a blade in my grip.
Brody: Take Bianca’s phone. Block her from social media. Make sure she can’t communicate withPaisley. I need this wedding to go through without a hitch.
My gut plummets. It will sever the delicate understanding I’ve achieved with his sister. There isn’t a choice when it comes to Brody’s demands. The loss is already spreading through my chest, leaving me cold. Just like the unfeeling pawn I was raised to be.
We might’ve had something. How foolish. Why did I let myself believe she could see me as anything but her brother’s enforcer? When I dare to look at her, there’s a frown twisting her beauty.
“What is it?”
“Nothing for you to worry about, Princess.”
Not until I follow through.
Another week, or maybe even two, has dragged by. It’s difficult to tell when time blends together in a monotonous blob. Colton reverted to a stone pillar after Brody bossed him around aboutsomething. The wall between us is taller than ever and I’m too stubborn to climb it. Not after he’s refused to budge on almost everything I request.
Instead, I’m back to entertaining myself. The hook pulls the yarn through the loop to finish my last stitch of this row. I exhale and hold up my work in progress. It’s about halfway there, if my makeshift pattern is anything to go by.
My eyes flick to the screen just as the Quickfire Challenge is starting on this episode ofTop Chef. The contestants race around the kitchen to gather supplies. Captions scroll to tell me that they’re responsible for creating innovative versions of cheese curds. I can almost smell the fried goodness from here.
Meanwhile, a masculine voice whispers sexy somethings directly into my ear and I shiver. The romance I’m listening to on my Kindle is cranking up the heat. At least someone is getting fucked properly. My ass slouches deeper into the velvety cushions as I resume crocheting.
Movement on my right catches my focus but I don’t turn. It’s just Colton doing whatever the hell he wants. Several choice words curl on my tongue, ready to fling at him. But he doesn’t deserve my insults.
“Possessive jerk. Never has any fun. Spiteful prick. Wouldn’t know how to treat a lady if chivalry hit his stupid sexy face,” I mutter at his reflection in the bay window.
A smile lifts my lips and spirits. What can I say? It’s difficult to keep my mouth shut, especially when it comes to that man and his controlling tactics.
The brooding slab of destruction paces into the living room. Colton stops in front of the television and turns to where I’m parked on the sofa. His hulking form is completely blocking my view. Rather than stoop to his level, I turn up the volume on my spicy audiobook and focus on yarning over like a pro.
He steps closer, giving me a whiff of his spicy cologne. I breathe through my mouth to avoid inhaling him. His cowboy boots enter my lowered field of vision. The brute is baiting me on purpose. Why he insists on doing so is beyond my comprehension of this sideways situation.
I glare at him, but remain silent. This is our new normal. We almost turned a corner after strolling through outdoor markets for days on end, but then my brother texted him. Maybe Brody thought we were getting too close, which seems odd. Not that I can ask him.
My phone is missing, which prompted Brother Dearest to cancel my credit cards and lock me out of all my accounts. Colton is being a real dick about letting me talk to anyone. The potential for a truce between us went up in smoke after that.
These days, after recent developments, we’re back to barely tolerating each other. It bothers him that I don’t sass him at every opportunity. I doubt he’ll ever admit it. His mouth presses into a pissed-off line while mine curves upward. I silently celebrate these small reactions.
Unfortunately for me, this man isn’t a quitter. His sinfully full lips are moving but I can’t hear him. I find myself wondering if I’ll see him smile again. But then I reprimand myself.Why do I want to see him do anything but take me home?
He’s still blabbing on about something. I tap my headphones and shrug. At inhumane speed, he snatches the Bose off my ears.
“Hey!”
Colton crosses his arms, dangling my escape from reality like a carrot. “I asked you a question.”
My eyes narrow into slits. “And I chose not to answer.”
Fury burns in his blue gaze and he inhales a deep breath. “What are you making?”
“Why do you care?”
