Page 2 of Slow Kind of Love

“Don’t lie. You have no job.”

“I don’t need one.”

“Well, what do you do all day?”

“Play solitaire.”

“No, really, what do you do?”

“Read books and listen to music.”

She took a step forward. “Don’t make me kick you where it hurts.”

“I’m building a sports complex with a few other investors across the lake from where I’m living. It’s quite the undertaking and takes up a fair amount of time.”

Her eyes widened at that. “You’re not planning on coming home?”

“I don’t know. I like where I am. I like the town, and I’ve made a life there. Separate and different from this.” He gestured toward the large stone manor house. “I don’t have to see my father and deal with his shite. Or my stepmom with her brats.”

“They’re your half siblings.”

“They’re still brats.”

“True.” She frowned. “Don’t you miss football?” she asked softly. “You could play for any team you want to, for an insane amount of money, I might add,” she said with a grin. Which slowly fell. “You haven’t played in nearly two years, and you’re still one of the most popular footballers in the world.”

“I don’t need money, and I don’t need football.” He knew he’d never be able to make her understand the one thing that had taken him too long to understand himself. He’d never played for the joy of it. It had always been for his father’s approval or, rather, disapproval. He’d played for some sort of reaction, because even when his father wasn’t happy with Link’s life choices, at least it meant he’d been paying attention to them.

Kind of pathetic for a grown man.

“Well, that’s it, then,” Rose said crisply, trying to hide the hurt and not being entirely successful at it. “I’ll never see you again.”

There were the dramatics he’d missed.

Link drew her in for one last kiss to the forehead and held her tightly for a few seconds before gently letting her go.

“I’ll be back,” he said roughly. “I don’t know when or for how long, but you’ll see me again on this side of the pond.” He cocked his head to the side. “That doesn’t mean you can’t visit Crystal Lake. I’ve got loads of room in the stone cottage.”

“Well, you just might see me sooner than you think. Mum thinks Thomas is a fad. She thinks I’m slumming it because he’s a commoner with a job at an accounting firm in the city. She says I’m tossing my nose at the establishment, so to speak, and that he doesn’t deserve me, but then who does?”

“Legit question.” He grinned.

“I do find him sort of boring outside the sack. I mean, sex can only get you so far. We do need some other sort of stimulation.” She raised that right eyebrow again. “Are there very many handsome and available men where you’re staying?”

He chuckled. “None that I think could take you on.”

“We might have to see about that.”

“Think on it.” Link pointed to the waiting Land Rover. “I should go. I’m running late and still have the drive to Heathrow.”

“Right.” Rose gave a half wave. “I’m sorry about your grandfather. He was a nice man. But I’m not sorry he left you this place. You belong here, Link. Do the right thing.”

Link thought about that all the way to London, and by the time he reached the airport, his mood was dark. For a guy who supposedly had the world by its balls, he’d never felt less in control.

He’d chartered a private jet for the trip back to the States and slept most of the way, Pepper sprawled across his lap, snoring louder than any human he’d ever heard. By the time he disembarked, got the dog through customs, and produced more forms than he’d ever needed himself, he claimed his truck from the lot where he’d stored it weeks ago, noting it was early afternoon. He inhaled a crisp shot of air and started his truck. Michigan in February was cold, and there’d been a significant snowfall in the last twelve hours; however, the roads were cleared and salted, and he made good time, arriving at the stone cottage by dinnertime. He’d been in England longer than he’d thought he’d be and hadn’t hired a snow-clearing service, which, as he looked across the drifts in his driveway, was a problem. He glanced at Pepper. “This is a whole new world, my friend.”

It took a good hour of shoveling for Link to make enough room for the truck in the driveway, and the entire time, Pepper ran mad, as if he’d never seen snow before, certainly not several feet of the fluffy stuff. The dog was knackered by the time he let the fur ball inside the cottage and ran for the first available sofa, where he plopped down with a groan. Link gave the dog a quick scratch behind the ears and left him to nap. He headed back outside and climbed into his truck, pointing it down River Road, toward the small town of Crystal Lake. He needed groceries and food for the dog.

But first and foremost, he had a woman to see. He’d sent her a text before the jet had taken off from Heathrow, but she hadn’t read or responded.

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