The Long Game (Long Game, #1)(22)

I squared my shoulders, downed the rest of my coffee, grabbed the flying shoe, and headed for her door.

The first thing I saw when I ventured into Sweet Heaven Cottage was Adalyn. She was still breathing heavily, her hair still very much a mess and her legs and arms on display. Once again, I couldn’t stop myself from letting my gaze get a little lost in that last fact. And once again, I was honest enough to admit that I liked what I saw. I liked the curve of her hips and thighs, the sight of her bare feet, and even how her breasts moved with her breathing under that thin top. I was, after all, a living, breathing man. And she—

“I don’t have anger management issues,” she announced, making my gaze return to her face. “I wanted to clarify that before you ask or point it out. I really don’t. I was dealing with a frustrating situation. With my shoe.”

“Not to be a bloody ass, mate,” I purposely said in a thick accent, throwing the words back at her to break some of the tension. “But that’s what someone with anger management issues would say.”

She let out a small huff, her shoulders coming down an inch. “Would you rather I take my frustration out on something else? Because I have another shoe.”

“Oh, were you doing that with something in particular?”

A look was shot to her right, and it was only then when I spotted it. The massive and dated four-poster bed. I arched my brows, noticing one of the poles was hanging at a weird angle. I had to bite back a smile. A goddamn smile. “Were you perhaps using the shoe as a hammer of some sort?”

“I’m resourceful like that,” she answered simply. “It was either that or taking my anger out on someone.”

My eyes jumped back to her. And the mental image took shape in my head so wickedly fast that this time, I could do nothing to stop the corners of my lips from finally twitching.

Her expression turned horrified. “Oh God, no. No. I meant—”

“I know what you meant,” I said with a shrug. “And I must decline. Being shanked by a little bird like you is not on my priority list.” I placed the shoe I’d retrieved from outside on the floor. “Not today, at least.”

She froze for an instant before rolling her eyes, but I didn’t miss the way her throat and cheeks flushed. “I don’t even know what that’s supposed to mean. Shanked. Plus, I’m not little. Or a bird.”

I took a few steps forward, dropping my mug on some eggshell-colored cabinet in what I supposed was a kitchenette. Christ. This place was in worse shape than I’d thought. “Listen, I’ve come in here to extend a temporary peace treaty, okay?”

She eyed me with a skeptical expression, her gaze traveling up and down my body. “Why would you do that? I didn’t even apologize for yesterday.”

“Are you actually sorry?”

A defeated puff of air left her. “I was having a particularly horrible day.”

“Well, then. Consider your very poor and much too late apology accepted.”

I ignored the sound leaving Adalyn and stepped further into the cabin. The wood creaked under my feet as I gave my surroundings a quick glance. Every surface was clean, and there were marks on the floors as if heavy furniture had been moved around. I wondered who in the world had decided to repurpose this shack into a holiday accommodation. Someone who hadn’t been here, clearly.

I extended my arms. “I can see how this cabin is a problem. It would be for anyone who has minimal living standards. But I can’t have you camping out in your car. It starts by sleeping in there one night, turns into two, and then by the end of the week you’ll eventually be careless, leave food out and attract some wild animal.”

That got her attention. “A wild animal? Like a bear… or something like that?”

“Black bears are not exactly rare in this area.” She paled, and I took the chance to continue. “And I can’t risk that. I have a family to look after, okay?” And I couldn’t seem to keep Willow indoors.

“Oh,” she breathed out, and to my complete surprise, her face… softened. Her lips parted, relaxed, and a light shade of pink filled up her whole face. “I didn’t know, I never read or heard that you were married. Or had kids.”

“I don’t.”

She looked at me like she wanted to ask about the specifics, but she only bit her lip.

I ripped my eyes off her mouth and busied myself with every tacky piece of furniture around her. “Do you think this is a scam?” I pointed with my head at the bed, although I meant the whole place. “Or just an honest-to-God crime against décor?”

“Maybe a mix of both?”

“Well, I hope whoever booked this for you is at the very least fired now.”

“How do you know I didn’t book this myself?”

I glanced back at her, finding her eyebrows knotted. She absently touched her forehead and flinched slightly. My voice turned hard. “Did you get that checked?”

“It’s not my assistant’s fault,” she said, ignoring my last comment. “At least I don’t think so. And it’s not like I’m in a position to fire anyone right now anyway.”

“The banishment?”

Instead of answering, she averted her eyes. “The cabin will be fine. This is all fine, really.”

“You could have fooled me. You could have fooled that bed for that matter.”