She’s not taking me seriously.
“We released some pent-up frustration, and hopefully I gave you a worthy coming-of-age experience,” I say. “But that’s it. It stops now.”
“Gotcha.”
Bitch.
I paw for the door handle and lower her to her feet, both of us trying to hold back our smiles. She knows she has months of cold, lonely nights to ambush me with her beautiful body.
“You got any more of those thigh-high socks?” I ask, throwing open the door.
“What do you care?” she teases.
I chuckle, both of us stepping into the house, but we see the boys sitting in the living room ahead, immediately with turned heads and eyes on us. Our laughter quiets, and we both stop, meeting their gazes.
Noah’s eyes trail up and down me, and I realize again that my shirt is open, and her hair looks like it was caught in a hurricane.
Shit. My smile falls.
Kaleb sits in the chair by the fire, his eyes turned toward us, while Noah watches us over his shoulder, a sound like shuffling cards hitting me, but I can’t see what’s in his hands.
Tiernan stiffens, looking up at me.
“Why don’t you go on to bed?” I mumble to her.
She nods, throws a glance in the boys’ direction, and heads up the stairs, holding her shirt closed.
Without meeting the boys’ eyes again, I whip off my shirt and head through the kitchen and into the shop, hearing them rise from their seats and follow me.
Turning on the faucet to the sink, I stick my head under the cold water, my muscles and nerves relishing and relaxing under the icy bath.
The water pours over my hair and cascades over my neck, and I swipe a quick drink before I turn it off and grab the towel off the dryer.
I see Kaleb still on the stairs, leaning against the wall, while Noah stands close, watching me.
“I fucked up,” I say, drying off my face and neck.
What the hell is she going to think about all this in twenty years?
“I know I fucked up.”
Noah stands there like a wall, still as stone, but then he lashes out. He throws his arm, swiping everything off the top of the dryer.
Containers and a laundry basket crash to the floor, and he picks up a paint bucket and heaves it at the garage door. It bangs and hits the floor, teetering for a few seconds before it stops moving.
He breathes hard. “And if I want her, too?”
“You don’t want her.” I shake my head, tossing the towel. “You’re latching onto anything that will hold you here.”
“And you? You’re not going to marry her and keep her up here. Have babies and all that shit,” he barks. “She’s leaving in the spring. Going to college and moving on with her life. I might leave with her.”
I flex my jaw and step up to him, his eyes just a hair below mine. “I’m not sharing a woman with my sons.”
“How convenient,” he spits back. “After you took her away from us the other night. We had her first.”
“No, you didn’t. The night of the last race when you both were upstairs with who-knows-who? We were down here in the kitchen. I had to…” I look away, shame warming my skin. “It didn’t go far, but something started that night.”
“Kaleb had already been on her out here the night when he came home from the cabin weeks ago,” Noah retorts.
What? I shoot my eyes up to Kaleb, his gaze slowly rising to meet mine.
You’ve got to be kidding me.
“But you got her cherry, so…” Noah adds snidely.
I look at him hard. I know he’s right. They’d be a lot more suited to her than I would.
But…
“I like her,” Noah says, his voice unusually gentle. “‘There are times when I just want to be close to her.”
I meet his eyes.
“I’m not going to stop myself, unless she stops me,” he warns me.
And what am I supposed to say? ‘She’s mine. Back off. You can’t take her, because… why?’ Why can’t he have her?
I’m not claiming her. She’ll leave, and this will end, because it has to. I’m not taking her life from her and saddling her here.
I shouldn’t have touched her.
Slowly, I start to nod. “Just act right,” I tell him. “She’s free to make her choices. You act right.”
A smile curls his lips, and he backs away, Kaleb and him disappearing back into the house.
It’s only right, right? I didn’t have any business fucking with her in the first place. I don’t want her to think I don’t want her, but I don’t want her getting attached, either. It’s better to stop it sooner, rather than later.