Chapter 11
Wow. I’m so cozy, and this is so nice. This bed is so comfortable. Why didn’t I notice it before?
My eyes stay closed as I snuggle into the covers, feeling like I could quite possibly fall back asleep.
Perhaps it’s because this is the best night’s sleep I’ve gotten since being here.
After all, how quiet this house is has taken some getting used to.
Or maybe I was just really tired after getting some fresh winter air yesterday.
Whatever it was made me sleep so soundly, but it’s also making me not want to get out of bed.
Then again, what do I even have to get up for?
I don’t even know where to go next to try to convince the Adams that selling out is in their best interest. And I know that soon, Victor is going to wonder what the hell I’m doing here if I’m not making any big moves.
Inhaling and then letting it out in a yawn, I slowly begin to pry my lids open. The room is blurry, and I rub my eyes until finally, my vision clears, and I realize two things. Two not-great things.
One, I’m not even at my rental house. Two, I’m at Ridge’s. In his bed.
Oh, and looking down, I realize a third and probably the worst. I’m naked. Completely and utterly naked.
Flipping over, I find the spot beside me empty, but the sound of someone stirring downstairs hits my ears, and I quickly scurry off the bed in an attempt to find my clothes.
Every single part of last night rushes through my mind at once, and I relive flashes of all the ways Ridge Adams owned my body.
Although … I feel like I owned his a little too. Especially when I was riding him so hard that his headboard was smashing into the wall and I worried it would break, but I also wasn’t concerned enough to stop.
“Shit,” I mutter, knowing damn well I never brought my clothes upstairs and that they are likely still scattered throughout the kitchen.
Looking at the bed, I grab the throw blanket that’s practically falling off the end and wrap it around myself. My legs feel wobbly, and between my thighs has a dull soreness, only reminding me how far we took the whole just one night thing.
Sluggishly, I trudge down the stairs, keeping the blanket wrapped around my body as if the man I’m about to run into hasn’t seen what’s underneath it.
A vision of Ridge stroking his cock while he watched me pleasure myself assaults my mind. And I almost fall down when I remember how he stopped jerking himself and came all over me, himself, and the counter. All from watching me with my hand between my thighs.
We’re supposed to go back to hating each other today, and yet my heart is racing as I think about all the things we did.
I need to get it together.
When I reach the corner that rounds to the kitchen, I hear someone moving around in there. I stop and lean against the wall. Squeezing my eyes shut, I inhale deeply and try to prepare myself to go in, grab my clothing, and act like the professional Victor sent me here to be.
“You gonna stand out there like a weirdo all morning, Fireball?” Ridge’s deep voice drawls, sending my eyes flying open. “I can see your shadow. And I heard your footsteps on the stairs.”
Grimacing, I stand up taller and push my shoulders back. His back is to me now as he stands in front of the stove, and quickly, my eyes dart around the room to locate my clothing.
“Sorry. I … just,” I stutter, “was hoping to find my clothes before … well …”
When he turns around, his blue eyes dance with amusement.
“What, before I could see you?” He winks.
“All good, Fireball. I’ve seen what’s under the blanket.
No need to be bashful. In fact, if you wanted to eat breakfast naked, I wouldn’t complain.
Actually, if you wanted to stay naked and let me eat my breakfast off of you, I’d even be nice to you for the rest of your days in Maine. ”
I fight back a squirm as I imagine his head buried between my thighs while I’m sprawled out on the kitchen table. Luckily, the sound of Marlin’s toenails snaps me out of it, and he stands beside me, wiggling around for attention.
Leaning down, I scratch his back. “Good morning, Marlin,” I coo, giggling when he makes a snorting sound.
Slowly, I stand up again and hold the blanket a little tighter.
“That sounds fun and all, but I should probably be getting dressed.” I chew the inside of my cheek, looking around. “Did you move my clothes?”
Yep. This is probably where our truce ends. He probably burned my clothes, and now he’s going to make me ride home naked as punishment.
“You’re no fun,” he utters, but luckily, he jerks his chin upward toward the table. “I folded them and set them in a pile on the chair at the end.”
After a few awkward seconds, I dart toward the table and grab my stuff.
“I’m going to go change,” I murmur, chewing the inside of my cheek.
Last night, everything was exciting and hot and heavy. I guess that I didn’t anticipate things being this weird between us today.
Although Ridge seems completely fine. It’s only me who is acting like a stray, sketched-out kitten.
I’m not this girl. I’m bold and opinionated. I’m not bashful or dainty. And yet, right now, I can’t even look this man in the eye because I’m so freaking timid.
As I start to head out of the kitchen to go to the bathroom, he calls behind me, “Do you want chocolate chips in your pancakes or plain?”
The moment the words leave Ridge’s lips, I come to a stop under the archway that leads to the hall where the bathroom is.
I stand there, frowning for a moment before I turn back toward him.
I keep my clothes tight against my chest as I take in the sight of his back to me while he makes pancakes for our breakfast.
“Why are you making me pancakes?” I whisper.
He doesn’t turn to face me right away, but continues to flip them over.
“I mean, I woke up hungry and wanted some,” he says matter-of-factly.
“Figured the nice thing to do would be to share them with the woman who had made me come so many times last night before I gave her a lift back to her place.” He turns to face me, shrugging.
“But if you’ve got something against pancakes, more for me, sweetheart. ”
I love pancakes. Plain and chocolate chip.
But the thing is, I’m not even sure it’s the pancakes I want as much as it is to sit at the table and chat with the man who made them.
And that right there is an issue because I’ve already crossed the line of professionalism, and now, the more we drag this out, the more complicated it becomes.
Okay, that’s an understatement. I took dynamite, and I blew up the freaking line altogether.
“The truce ended at midnight, remember?” I whisper. “I don’t think people who hate each other eat pancakes together. Do you?” His face falls, but before he even has time to answer, I sigh. “I, uh, should probably change and get going. But it’s not that far, so I think I’ll walk.”
His expression goes from bummed to aggravated. “It’s fifteen degrees outside.” He states the words almost like he’s taunting me. “I’ll give you a ride.” His eyes narrow like he’s challenging me. “But not until you eat a goddamn pancake.”
“That wasn’t the deal, Ridge,” I growl quickly. “What are we even doing right now?”
Putting a few pancakes on two plates, he sets them down on the table. “We’re eating breakfast, Fireball—that’s what we’re doing.” He jerks his chin upward. “Go change, before they get cold.”
Instead of arguing with him over why it’s a bad idea for us to drag our time out together, I walk down the hallway, keeping my clothes in my arms. I can’t stop wondering why he isn’t just letting me go. And why he cares if I walk home when it’s cold outside.
Him caring is making this whole thing messier than it already was.
I turn down the driveway, not bothering to say anything to my passenger because it’s obvious she doesn’t want to talk. I had to practically force her to eat my pancakes, and I know they were good because I’d made sure not to burn them today.
The short drive to Stella’s rental has been quiet and awkward as fuck.
I knew, today, we’d go back to how we usually are, but how we usually are is more fun than whatever this shit is.
She’s quiet and acting nervous. She’s fidgeting with her hands, and she’s never struck me as someone who fidgets.
I guess because she’s always so confident.
Just before my truck comes to a stop in front of the house, I glance over at her. “What you said yesterday …” I pause. “About Tucker.”
“What about it?” she utters mindlessly.
“Would you really do that?” I press the brakes, shifting my truck into park. “You’d go to the one you think is the weakest link to try to get what you want?”
I expect her to leap from my truck like her ass is on fire, but instead, she turns toward me. Her eyes hold the same look in them that I saw at the tree farm yesterday. Only now, there’s a hint of anger too. Yesterday, there was only sadness.
“Ridge, no offense, but some of us have to do shit for our work that we don’t love.
So, yes, if charming a client to get what I want, all while keeping my clothes on, is what it takes, I will absolutely do that.
” She looks out the window, nodding toward the ocean in front of the house.
“I don’t just … get to live in a beautiful home.
I have to work for what I have. And guess what.
Because I have a thing called a vagina, I have to work twice as hard. ”
I know what she’s trying to say. She sees our beautiful houses and ocean views and assumes that our lives are easy and that we’ve been given everything we have just because our family owns the wharf and the land our houses are on. But she couldn’t be more wrong.
“Do you think I love waking up at three in the morning most days to go to work? Or do you think I enjoy the fact that I have to go to the chiropractor a few times a month just because my back is fucked up from breaking traps aboard for as many years as I have? What about the weeks or months when there are absolutely no fucking lobsters out there, and the price of bait and fuel is through the roof, but I know my bills aren’t going to stop coming in the mail, and neither are my crew’s?
” I’m pissed now, and I don’t even try to hide it.
“And what about the rough days where I’m out there, constantly watching the two guys on the stern of my boat, worrying the worst will happen and it’ll be my fault?
Do you think that shit’s easy?” I’m practically growling now.
“I’ll give you the answer. It’s not. But this land?
Knowing, one day, the next generation in our family will take this over and it’ll keep being passed down? That’s what makes it worth it.”
I look straight ahead. “You’re wasting your time, Stella. My family—Tucker included—will never give this up.”
My jaw tenses as all the fun we had last night disappears, and all that’s left is the hate for this woman who thinks she can insult us by coming here and throwing a check at us.
“My parents invited you to dinner to be nice, but there’s no reason for you to stay anymore. You should pack your shit and get the fuck out of town. Before you’ve made an enemy of more than just me.”
Now, I look over at her, holding her hazel eyes with my own.
“Go home, city girl. You don’t belong here.
” I should stop there, but I’m fucking mad.
“Don’t bother trying to seduce Tucker; you won’t get anywhere with him.
And besides, I had you the entire night, in every position possible, and I still would never so much as consider taking your deal. ”
“Fuck you,” she hisses, eyes narrowing. “You know what I think?”
“Oh, I’m fucking dying to know.”
“Maybe you just don’t want me near your brothers,” she snarls before smirking, getting back that annoying confidence that I picked up on the first few times we met.
“I mean, after all, when Riley offered me a ride home, you put a stop to that real fast, didn’t you?
” She fucking smirks. “I don’t think you hate me at all, Ridge Adams. In fact, I think you just hate how much you care what I do. ”
“Fuck you. That’s the furthest thing from the truth,” I snap. “I don’t give a shit what you do or who you do it with.”
My jaw tenses, and my nostrils flare. I wish I could tell her she’s wrong and actually mean it, but the truth is, I do fucking care what she does. I care too damn much. But, fuck no, I’m not going to tell her that.
In the midst of my anger, my cock twitches. On one hand, there’s something about her that I can’t fucking stand, and on the other, it makes my dick hard.
“Keep telling yourself that, big guy.” She winks.
“You know, I was going to call my boss and tell him this was pointless and that I was ready to come back.” She tsks me.
“But then you had to go and say that thing about having me the entire night, and I decided, nah … I’m not ready just yet.
” She tilts her head to the side. “You see, sometimes, there’re loopholes when it comes to getting what we want.
Sometimes, it’s finding the weakest link.
But sometimes? It’s finding a problem and bringing attention to it.
” She leans over slightly, continuing to smirk at me.
“The property lines here seem awfully … unprofessionally done. Think I’ll have a look into the assessment.
You know, just to be sure everything here is legal. ”
When she turns away, I reach forward, gripping her chin. “Don’t fuck with my family, Fireball. It won’t end well for you.”
The heartless-tough-girl act falters, and I see a look of shock in her eyes.
Pulling away from me, she glares. “I may just have to fuck with your brother,” she whispers. “Or should I say … fuck your brother?”
The veins in my neck must bulge, and breathing becomes an actual fucking job. Everything inside of me wants to rush to the passenger side, throw her over my shoulder, carry her into the rental, and fuck her until she’s screaming out my name again.
Because I don’t want to even think about her screaming out anyone else’s.
But I let her leave, and I don’t even watch her as she walks away.
And despite how fucking angry I am, my cock stands tall.
Because that’s what Stella does to me, and I hate it.