He didn’t stop in his usual pee stop. His stumpy legs were too busy galloping toward Liza’s house.
I could see the fire from my vantage point. Someone had built a bonfire next to the creek. There were tables with food, camp chairs, and over a dozen people milling around, looking like they were having a great time.
Liza’s dogs, Randy and Kitty, broke away from the food tables to greet Waylon. I spotted Waylay, her blonde hair under a bright pink hat that I bet Amanda had knit for her. Her friends Nina and Chloe were horsing around in the side yard. The pang in my chest took me by surprise. Waylay dropped to her knees in the grass and gave Waylon a good scruffing. He rolled onto his back in ecstasy.
I rubbed my hand absently over my chest, wondering if it was indigestion from the shitty cold pizza.
Headlights slashed across the yard as another car pulled in. A minivan that I recognized. Fi, her husband, and their kids piled out carrying camp chairs, covered dishes, and a six-pack.
Great. My own family and now my employees were taking her side in all of this. This was why I needed a thousand acres far away from here.
Then I saw her.
Naomi by firelight.
She wore those tight leggings that showed off every inch of her mile-long legs. Boots with the girlie fur trim. A thick, cropped sweater under an insulated vest. Her hair was a mass of curls that glowed amber in the firelight. She was wearing a knit hat just like Waylay’s, only in a deep red.
She was smiling. Laughing. Glowing.
The pang in my chest became a physical ache, and I wondered if I should call a cardiologist. This wasn’t normal. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go.
I ended things before they got too sticky and felt nothing but relief immediately after. If I ever ran into one of my conquests again, which was rare, it was easy. Pleasant. I never promised anything, and they never expected anything.
But this time, despite my best efforts, there had been expectations. Though she didn’t look like she was suffering. She was next to the creek, standing close to my asshole brother, having what looked like an intimate chat.
Her gloved hand reached out and clutched his arm.
My fists clenched at my sides. Red filtered into the corners of my vision.
My brother hadn’t wasted a goddamn second, had he?
It wasn’t a conscious decision to go to her, but my feet had a mind of their own. I strode across the grass toward the happy little group with destruction in mind.
I didn’t want her with him. I didn’t want her with anyone.
I couldn’t stand the idea of seeing her stand next to him, let alone whatever else they were doing. Fuck.
Liza J called to me, and Amanda flashed me a pitying smile as I marched through the festivities.
“You two didn’t waste any goddamn time, did you?” I snapped when I caught them on the other side of the fire.
Nash had the audacity to laugh right in my face.
But Naomi was something else. The easy smile on her face disappeared, and when she looked at me, it wasn’t an ice princess I saw, ready to freeze me out. It was a woman on fire ready to burn me alive.
The relief was swift and overwhelming. The tightness in my chest loosened by millimeters. Freezing me out meant she didn’t care. But that fire I saw in those gorgeous hazel eyes told me she hated my guts.
That was better than cold disinterest any day.
Nash took a step forward, effectively putting himself between me and Naomi, which only served to piss me off even more.
“You got a problem?” he asked me.
I had a 6’3” problem with a few bullet holes in it.
“Problem? With you helping yourself to my leftovers? Nah. Better she doesn’t go to waste.”
I was such a fucking asshole and I’d gone way too far. I deserved the beating Nash was about to throw me. Part of me wanted it. Wanted the physical punishment to take the place of the emotional shit storm that was ripping me apart inside.
I couldn’t think straight with her this close. This close, and I couldn’t touch her. Couldn’t reach out and lay claim to what I’d thrown away.
Nash’s fist pulled back, but before he could let it fly, another body stepped between us.
“You’re a child throwing a temper tantrum,” Naomi snapped, inches from me. “And you’re not invited. So go home.”
“Daisy,” I said, reaching for her on autopilot.
Yet another body wedged itself between us.
“If you don’t want to go down in history as the dumbest asshole in this town, I suggest you step the hell back,” Sloane said.
She was glaring up at me like I’d just decked Santa Claus at a library luncheon.