Chapter 8 Dallas #2
This is exactly why she needs to go. I don’t need another woman to protect.
She’s not mine. Millie was. And now I’ve only got her memory to protect.
I should be more concerned with protecting Ellie from jerks like this in the future.
Learning to be the kind of father she needs, so she knows a real man when she meets one.
Build her a home fit for a princess so she learns to be treated like one.
Instead I’m picturing all the different ways I could deform this guy’s face with a single hit.
With a sigh, I check the time as if there’s merely hours before Willow is finally gone and I can forget my thoughts strayed for even a minute.
Heading upstairs, I find Ellie’s bedroom door is open, so I pause in the doorway. Willow’s on the top step of a short ladder, barely reaching the rod where she adjusts pink velvet drapes.
The setting sun pours in through the window, casting amber light across the room, where it dances off the empty walls—lighting up Willow’s thick curls. Setting them ablaze in copper and gold, wrapping around her like she’s the source of energy.
She freezes, and for a moment I think I’ve been discovered lurking and staring. But she doesn’t turn. Her gaze drifts out, absorbing the colors.
I should peel my eyes off her and I swear I’m trying. I sure as hell shouldn’t lower them to her perfect ass, but I do. And I can’t find it in me to be sorry.
Blinking and cursing myself, I clear my throat. “We call it ‘Sunset.’”
She turns her head and our gazes collide. Those warm brown eyes wide with innocence.
She’s wearing jeans and a plain white tee. But I’d argue there’s nothing plain about it. It’s cropped just above her waist, lighting up that faded tan with a glow. Clinging to her in all the right places, giving those pert tits the spotlight they damn near deserve.
Shit.
This woman is hanging curtains in my daughter’s room and I’m here comparing her to a sunset and ogling her like a perv.
And Willow’s just the type to notice and call me out. But she doesn’t. She steps down with a smile—wide and so fucking pretty.
“Sunset, huh? I like it.”
I know she’s playing along but I want to tell her that’s not half as good as they get out here this time of year.
Especially from my bedroom window.
There I go again. I must be tired.
“Well, what do you think?” She sets her hands on her hips, raising that crop top just a hike more.
I blink. Am I supposed to know what she’s referring to? By some grace of God, she gestures around the space and I snap out of it, looking around the room—because of course that’s what she’s talking about.
There’s fewer boxes now and more . . . room. Most of them are now empty and broken down, lined up against the wall.
Ellie’s bookshelf is stacked with colorful hardcovers, bookends, and pottery. The dresser is now topped with a few of her things. Her bed’s made up with fresh linens. Come to think of it, the whole house smells like fabric softener and pine rather than sawdust and paint.
Willow even attached the veil to the canopy crown, which now rests neatly on the bed. She adjusts it evenly, flattening out a few creases.
“Just need a few screws and a drill, but I’ve already marked the center of the bed.” She points to a few pencil marks on the wall.
“Thank you,” I finally say, feeling like shit for making her feel like I was doing her the favor this morning.
She dusts her hands along her sides, concern lining her forehead. “It’s a bit chilly here . . . especially after sundown.”
“I know,” I say on an exhale. “Heater’s going in Monday, couldn’t get anyone out here this weekend.”
“Monday?”
“That’s what I said. Come on. I got us some takeout. Hope you like Thai.”
She frowns, narrowing her eyes at me. “What if I don’t?”
“Well, it’s what you’re eatin’. Come on.”
Willow’s quiet on the way down but I can sense there’s something brewing, something unspoken.
I get the feeling she’s upset with me. Or maybe disappointed. But I don’t pry. I don’t care.
Instead, I unload cartons onto the counter while Willow grabs two glasses from a cabinet. “Got any filtered water here?” she asks dryly.
“I got beer.”
She cocks her head at me like I’m joking. “No water, really? But you thought of beer.”
“Calm your feathers. The kitchen tap water is filtered. I do try to think of everything, you know.”
“Except how to keep a kid warm,” she mutters.
“What do you want me to do, drag the guy over here on a Sunday?”
“No, I’m saying that maybe you think twice about rushin’ her over here when the place is clearly not ready.”
I give her an exhausted glare. “I’ll make sure she’s warm for the one night. There a chance you get feisty when you’re hungry too? Or is it just a morning-coffee thing?”
She deadpans me. “Did ya get anything spicy?”
I point to a set of cartons. “These two.”
Looking nearly satisfied, she smirks and settles onto a bar stool, pulling the two cartons toward her plate. “I’ll be the judge of that.” She tears open a pair of chopsticks and digs into the chicken dish first.
A small, breathy moan slips out as she chews. “There’s a kick, but I’ve had better.”
I perk a brow. “Is that right? Well, why don’t you try the spicy tofu? It’s a favorite of mine. Might need that glass of water though.”
She narrows her eyes. “I wash down spicy food with a spicy margarita. But I’ll be happy to pour you a glass.”
I watch her with a smirk, pushing the carton over.
She dips her chopsticks in and grabs a cube of seasoned tofu drenched in the sticky red sauce.
There’s a brief pause when it touches her tongue. She glances at me, then continues to chew slowly. Her eyes glisten but she holds herself steady, composed. I’m about to offer her water or a cucumber but her show is just too good to end.
Finally, she swallows. “This one’s getting closer.” Her eyes lift to mine. “Still had better.”
I grin. “That why you turning red?”
“No.” Her response is quick. “I’m red because you make me blush with your cowboy charm.”
I laugh. “Wow. You’d rather pretend you got a crush than admit this is too hot for you.”
“It’s not too hot. It’s just right. Really brings out—” She coughs. “All my senses.”
I pull the carton over, still laughing as I take a bite.
“You’re going to give yourself heartburn. Then who’ll be laughing?”
I touch my chest. “You sure suck the fun out of eatin’, Sunset.” The nickname tumbles out before I can catch myself.
She blinks at me, one brow lifting like she’s not sure if I’m insulting her or flirting.
Hell, I’m not even sure myself, but it’s all that comes to mind when I look at her now.
Especially with the last bit of it coming in through the skylight above the kitchen, bringing out the natural glow in her hair—all too eagerly. Like it’s trying to fuck with me.
“Well, you don’t like Red. And just a few minutes ago, you said you liked sunsets.”
“I was referring to the colors it brings out.”
“So was I.”
Her cheeks flush pink. “Think I’ll take that water now.”
I tear my eyes off her and fill the glass, then add some noodles to her plate.
“What’s on the agenda tomorrow?” she asks.
Getting you out before Ellie gets here.
I glance at the living room. “I’ve got some early rounds to do in the field. And now that the floor’s polished, we can unwrap the rest of the furniture.”
She nods then points her fingers at me with a mouthful. “I think we should pick up some plants tomorrow too. And, you know, foods kids can eat without getting a stomach ulcer.”
“I don’t feed Ellie spicy food,” I mutter, focusing on the food comment rather than telling her I’m not going to go plant and flower shopping with her. If I wanted any, I could pick them right off my field.
I glance around the space, reluctantly admitting to myself that the house could use some life.
I’m staring at the fire and it’s past midnight again. Eyes shot, brain gone haywire.
That woman sure is a goddamn handful. One minute with her and you’re halfway to losing your mind.
And here I am giving her a fucking nickname.
Not Gremlin or Cactus.
But Sunset.
And the way her cheeks heated at it . . .
I finally convinced her to sleep in my bedroom again tonight after she refused to mess up Ellie’s bed.
I’ve got two other empty guest rooms up there with bed frames. But no mattresses. Those rooms weren’t exactly priority.
And they don’t need to be. Because Willow is leaving tomorrow.
I run a hand over my overgrown scruff. Hard to believe in a matter of twenty-four hours, I managed to pick more fights with this woman than Millie and I could possibly have in a season. Been more work than a broken fence in a blizzard.
She’s beautiful, sure—but a stubborn spitfire more than anything. Thinks she’s funny too. Willing to bet there’s never a dull moment with Willow—hell, what’s her last name?
It doesn’t matter.
She’ll be gone tomorrow night.
It’s late, but sleep won’t come, my mind on overdrive. I’m sitting leaning against the tarp-wrapped coffee table in just my sweatpants. I don’t sleep in a shirt no matter how cold it might be.
I’m gazing at the crackling fire when I hear the steps creak and turn.
Willow’s paused at the bottom step, her mouth dropping before she speaks. “Hi.”
“Hey,” I groan, sitting up.
She tears her eyes off my chest and I imagine she might be half asleep if her dreamy eyes are any indication.
“Something wake you?”
She blinks. “Just came down to make tea.”
I nod and turn back to the fire. “I’d tell you to make yourself at home, but you did that yesterday.” I grin.
She pushes her hair behind her ear. “Thanks.”
A few minutes later, she switches off the light in the kitchen and steps out with a steaming mug of tea. That’s when I notice what she’s wearing. Or not wearing. She’s in a familiar oversized black hoodie. Legs bare. A pair of thick blue knitted socks covering her feet.
I clear my throat, shifting my gaze to the blaze of the fire—still a reminder of what it took from me.
How cold it left me and everyone who adored Millie.
I hate that it’s what’s going to keep us warm for the next few days and the brutal winters.
“Listen, if I don’t get to tell you tomorrow, I appreciate your help today. ”
“You’re welcome.” She shivers and I hear a hint of chatter. My eyes snap back to her.
“You cold?”
She pulls the mug close to her chest and I imagine its warmth spreading through her. “The tea should help.”
I tear my eyes off her chest and glance up. “You got the space heater on?”
She pulls her bottom lip. “I think I blew it. Turned it up too high or something.”
“Oh.” I feel like a fool with nothing else to offer her. “Um, fire’s probably going to last most of the night if you prefer to stay down here.”
Her eyes widen. “Alone?”
“No,” I answer after a beat, since it’s clear she’s not keen on the idea of being ground level alone in the dark.
Especially with the large glass windows and doors all around and no source of light for nearly a mile.
“There’s enough room here for the two of us.
” I point to the blankets I’ve got spread in front of the fireplace.
She glances at the fire, biting that bottom lip again. “Does feel warmer down here.”
The hope in her tone has me shoving aside that growing, inexplicable guilt over straying from the woman I vowed to love till my dying day.
I toss one of the pillows to the other side of the makeshift bed, leaving room for her as she edges closer.
A gentleman.
That’s all I’m being.
For a woman who’s cold in my home. Making me responsible for her comfort.
That’s all this is.
It occurs to me that we’d both benefit from me saying this out loud as Willow shamelessly takes in my bare chest and arms, firelight dancing in her eyes. Eyes I can just as easily get lost in. Until she breathes, “Think we can really do this?”
My lip twitches. “Sure. So long as you remember my eyes are up here.”
Big, brown, mischievous eyes lift to mine with a hint of a smirk. “Yeah, well, you owed me one from earlier, cowboy.”
The corner of my mouth tugs up. “Suppose I do. So we even then?”
She scans my torso once more. “Even.”
I wait until she’s settled in under the covers and sipping her tea before I settle next to her.
And I can almost hear what she’s thinking.
The same thing I am.
This is a terrible idea.