But not me.
I shouldn’t prod her. I know I shouldn’t. But I feel like a kid with a crush who mocks the girl he likes to get her attention.
And I like the way this one fires back.
I want more.
“I think she’s actually a fairy. And for the record, driving twenty below the speed limit is also dangerous and could kill someone. Mostly me. From boredom,” I joke.
Her eyes widen almost comically, a sure sign that I failed to lighten the mood at all. “It’s dark and snowy! I don’t know the area. There could be wildlife! Driving slowly is safe so long as a back-forty hillbilly isn’t riding my ass in his small-dick truck, flashing his high beams at me.”
My lips clamp down against each other.
Fuck.
I really like this girl.
I should stop. I should walk away. I should channel my maturity and not flirt with her by infuriating her.
But I’ve always been a little reckless.
“I hear that if you want your ass ridden, a small dick is the way to go. So maybe I’m your guy.”
My dick isn’t small. But I’m happy to make sacrifices to land a good joke. Only a small-dicked dude would miss this opportunity.
I shouldn’t have said it, but the pure shock that paints her pretty features makes it all worth it. She’s so fired up; I just can’t help myself. Play with fire and I’ll be there to pour gasoline on it for you.
Her hand shoots up between us. “I’m married, you fucking pig. Now leave.” Her hand flips out firmly, pointing down the driveway.
Married. I just shrug. “Married for now, maybe.”
I’m persistent. And this girl wasn’t staring at me like a married woman. Not a happily married one anyway.
It’s Rhett’s voice that draws our attention to the sprawling wrap-around porch attached to the huge ranch house. “Yeah, don’t worry, Winter. We’re gonna free you from that husband and bury him in the back field. It’ll be like that Dixie Chicks song. Rob is the new Earl.”
Winter.
Winter, as in Summer’s sister? Fuck, that’s a stupid combination of names for two sisters. They should hate their parents instead of each other, if you ask me.
I glance back at the woman before me, about six feet away. Everyone has described her as cold and distant. A real ice-queen.
I’ve heard the stories. The drama. They’ve made her sound like some sort of criminal mastermind. But all I see is a firecracker who needs my help to work out some aggression.
And I wouldn’t be mad at helping her with that. Not even a little. I’m philanthropic that way.
Winter rubs her temples like she has a headache. I consider offering her an aspirin from my truck, or an orgasm. I hear those help too.
“You’re lucky you make my little sister so happy, Eaton,” she says, sounding utterly exhausted.
Rhett hums good-naturedly, his eyes taking on that melty, drugged look he gets when people so much as mention Summer. But he doesn’t address that; instead, he says, “Theo’s just a baby though. You can’t corrupt him, Winter.”
I roll my eyes. “I’m not a baby. I’m twenty-six.”
Rhett scoffs. “No, you aren’t. You’re twenty-two.”
Good god. Does he think he knows my age better than I do?
“Dude. I was twenty-two when I first met you on the circuit. I’ve gotten older. You’re doing the same thing my mom does with her pets. They hit a certain age and then she says that they’re that same age until one day they just die.”
He chuckles. “Well, I’ll be. You’re like that store with the skimpy dresses. Forever 22.”
I prop my hands on my hips and sigh with a bemused twist to my mouth. “Yeah. You’re definitely getting old. That store is called Forever 21.”
Rhett just waves me off. “Whatever. I only know about the skimpy dresses.”
“Are you two done? I need a drink if I’m going to stay here all night,” Winter cuts in, clearly irritated by the route our conversation has taken. Though Rhett’s interruption did successfully put a stop to our little spat.
Sadly. I was enjoying sparring with her. She can hold her own in a way I haven’t encountered in any of my relationships.
If that’s even what you could call them.
“Ah, yes, Winter, meet my protégé Theo Silva. Theo, meet Doctor Winter Hamilton, my future sister-in-la—”
“Winter Valentine,” she interrupts him with a stiff correction.
“For now,” I add, winking at her. Because now that I know who she is, I don’t feel so bad about making my play. I know who her husband is. And I already know I don’t give a fuck about that guy.
I already know Winter can do better.
And I’m a lot better, whether she realizes it yet or not.
She gives me the most dramatic eye roll and walks in my direction. I stick my hand out—because Mama raised a gentleman—but she just walks past, glaring at me with eyes bright blue like the bottom of a flame. I turn my head to hold her gaze as she draws even with me, shoulder to shoulder.
She doesn’t take my hand though. So, I roll with it, swiping my hand through my hair with a wink.
The same wink I gave her at the gas station.
Our little secret.
“Call your dog off, Eaton.” She keeps walking, only addressing Rhett, like I’m not even here.
But goddamn, I love a challenge.
I turn with a loud, “Woof!” as I watch her petite frame slip into the bright light of the warm, bustling house.
Rhett is laughing. At me. Not with me. “You’re an idiot, Theo.”
I shake my head. “Dude. I think I’m in love with your sister-in-law. She’s so fiery.”
Now it’s Rhett shaking his head, like he knows something I don’t. And I follow him into the house because I want to know more.
I want to know more about Winter Valentine.
Like when that divorce is happening.
3
Winter
Rob: Say hi to Summer for me.
I walk into the big house, more unnerved than when I left the city a couple of hours ago. The prospect of walking in here at all, the shitty roads, that all pales in comparison to the beautiful infuriating man standing outside right now.
I swear I can still feel him staring at me, his eyes roaming over my back appreciatively. It makes me carry myself just a little bit taller.
Pathetic as it sounds, it’s nice to have someone look at me that way.
Of late, I’ve grown more accustomed to looks of disdain and looks of pity. And when Rob looks at me in a way that I know means his dick is hard, it just makes my skin crawl.
This is different. I want Theo to admire me, but I also want to kick him in the shins.
The sound of a bustling kitchen draws me down the hallway into the warmly lit living space. Hunter green walls and wide, dark floorboards make the space effortlessly cozy. The voices are all happy, and the laughter isn’t forced.
There’s no marble, no stark white kitchen, no echo when people talk.
It’s weird.
I pause at the threshold, stricken by the enormity of what I’m about to do. It’s like getting the hell away from Theo Silva—the sexy bull rider maniac driver—and his perfect bone structure pushed me this far, and now I’m between a rock and a hard place.
My throat works in time with my fingers as they curl and squeeze into my palms. Like the inertia from the small motions will just tip into the room, the spectacle for everyone to see.
The first step toward making things right.
“All good, Winter?” A firm palm lands on my shoulder and I glance up into the scraggly face of my sister’s fiancé. It’s not that he isn’t handsome, he’s just so . . . unpolished. He’s like a big, happy, manly dog that needs a day spent at the groomer.
I offer him a tentative nod before peeking back around the corner.
I’m not all good though. I’m a fucking mess. But I won’t show it. I feel safe when I’m composed. And the second set of footsteps coming up behind Rhett belong to a man who makes me feel distinctly not composed.
“It’s gonna be great.” Rhett’s hand squeezes. “Want me to give you a shove like if we were skydiving?”
Now I shoot him an unimpressed look. “No thanks. I can handle this.”
I don’t know who I’m saying it to. Him or myself? But either way, I step into the kitchen with my head held high and open with a confident-sounding, “Hi, can I help with anything?”
Heads turn, but eyes don’t widen. The buzz doesn’t come to a crashing halt. Instead, there are waves. And smiles. And a, “Heyooo, Elsa!” from Willa, who is propped in a chair, sporting a small swell at her stomach.
Summer hustles over to me, her cheeks all rosy. Her smile so sincere.
And she says nothing. She just flings herself at me and wraps her arms around my neck, burying her head in the crook of my neck. So openly affectionate.
I’m not used to it. I didn’t expect it. So, I stand a little woodenly before hugging her back. Her body softens and a small sigh leaves her lips when I do.
“I am so happy you’re here,” she whispers to me.