Chapter 13 Property of Walker Rhodes #2
So yeah, I’m feeling a little territorial. More than a little protective.
“A few people,” she says, and I catch her eyes dipping to my bare chest again before she hauls them back up to my face.
The thought of other men's hands on her makes my fists clench.
I close my eyes briefly instead.
The nanny, I repeat silently to myself. She’s the nanny, and she can do whatever the fuck she wants with whomever the fuck she wants. It’s none of my business.
“Is dancing a problem?” she asks. “Is this a Footloose situation, where I’m about to get scolded for my unseemly behavior by my stern taskmaster?”
I glower at her teasing. “Dancing’s not a problem. But Sadie…” I push a hand through my hair. “You’re young and beautiful and all alone. That’s the problem.”
The color in her cheeks deepens when I let the compliment slip. “Why is that a problem?”
“I don’t need to tell you that in a small town people talk. Which means everyone knows your situation. Guys understand you don’t have a father in the picture. They know you don’t have a brother to look out for you. No boyfriend, either. They know there's nobody in your corner.”
I spin the glass around between my fingers as I continue, “My sister Josie never had to think twice about any of that. She always had me and Slade and Tanner and Rafe ready to fuck up anyone who so much as looked at her the wrong way. I’m 6’5, 230 pounds, and there are four of me.
Nobody gave my little sister trouble because nobody wanted to risk the wrath of her guard dogs. ”
But you have no one.
I don’t say it aloud, but she seems to hear the unspoken words anyway.
I take the bottle and pour more whiskey into my glass. After a sip, I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand. “So. Any of 'em give you trouble?”
“Walker.” My name in her mouth, even when she’s exasperated with me, is something I like to hear way too much. Although her eyes have softened since I explained where I’m coming from when it comes to her. “I told you I'd be fine.”
“I know what you told me.”
“Nobody got fresh.”
She steals the glass back from me and takes a sip. “With all the rumors swirling around town about us, I might as well have a neon sign over my head saying Property of Walker Rhodes.”
“What kind of rumors?”
“That we’re… you know.”
“I’ve been gone a decade, darlin’. I got no idea what the rumor mill’s churning through.”
I don’t need to have an ear to the ground to imagine what people are saying about us, but I’m not gonna let her know that. I’m having way too much fun teasing it out of her.
She says, “People think we’re… together.”
“We live together. We take care of Jonah together. Where’s the lie?”
Her eyes narrow. “You know what I mean.”
I hide my smile. “Can’t say I do.”
“They think we’re sleeping together!” she blurts.
I can't hide my satisfaction at that. Don't particularly try.
She stares at me. “Oh my God. Look at you. You're actually proud of yourself.”
“Damn straight I am.” I lean back against the pool wall, arms along the edge, looking up at her. “Way I see it, I saved you from getting pawed at by a bunch of drunken cowboys.”
A pause. A slow, devilish gleam enters her eye. “Who says I don't want to get pawed?”
My body tenses.
She’s doing this on purpose. She’s way too fucking clever not to know exactly what she’s doing to me right now, sitting up there on the edge of my pool with her feet in the water and my whiskey in her hand, that look on her face like she's holding all the cards and knows it.
“It would be a new experience,” she continues, trailing her feet lazily through the water, watching the ripples fan out toward me. “I've always played it safe. Been the good girl.” Her eyes cut to mine, sly and dancing. “Maybe I want to start being bad.”
I say nothing. I don't trust what comes out if I open my mouth right now.
But whatever look is on my face makes her laugh. Bright and delighted, like she's having the time of her life up there.
“Easy there, Daddy.” She nudges my shoulder with her foot. “You can put away the shotgun.”
“Not with the way I've seen these boys look at you.”
She tilts her head, all manufactured innocence, blue eyes wide. “How do they look at me, Walker?”
“Sadie.” A warning. Low and very clear. No way in hell I’m spilling out in graphic detail what these horny country boys want to do to her.
She grins and steals the whiskey again. Her cheeks are flushed pink and her eyes are bright. She's swinging her feet in the water like she hasn't got a care in the world. Meanwhile I’m gripping the pool's edge hard enough to whiten my knuckles.
“Relax,” she sighs. “I can handle myself.” She takes a sip and hands it back, fingers brushing mine. “All these years and nobody's made it past the velvet rope.”
“What does that mean?” I ask slowly, even though some part of me has already understood, is already putting the pieces together and reformulating my understanding of her completely.
“Ugh.” She tips her face up to the stars. “Are you really gonna make me spell it out?”
“Sadie.”
“Never mind.”
“Spell. It. Out.”
She looks down at me then. And just like that the teasing drops. Not all of it, but enough. Underneath it she's suddenly, genuinely shy. Her teeth catch her lower lip. Her eyes drop to the water between us.
In weeks of living in my house she’s been bold and sharp and funny and furious. I’ve never once seen her shy.
But she is when she speaks now.
“I'm a virgin.”