“This is a bad idea,” Matt said.
“Matt, I don’t really care about your opinion,” I said, exasperated. “I’ve made my decision. Support me or don’t, that’s up to you.”
“I don’t.”
The words stung, but I wouldn’t argue with him anymore. If he didn’t want to be there for me, fine. But I didn’t have to change my decision just because he didn’t approve. I turned to face my father, waiting for his judgment, knowing his disapproval would hurt even more.
“Does he make you happy?” he asked.
I smiled. That was an easy one. “More than anything.”
He pushed his chair back from the table, setting his cards down. “I think I have some extra boxes in the garage.”
I beamed, ignoring Matt’s scowl, and followed my father out to the garage.
Chapter 4
A week later, I was bent over and staring into a corner cupboard in Landon’s kitchen, spinning the lazy-susan around to find what I wanted.
“What are you doing?”
I shoved a tall pan to the side, but there was nothing behind it. “Looking for a waffle maker.”
“I don’t have one.”
And then he pinched my butt, and I jumped up, smacking his arm.
“Hey!”
“Like you thought you could bend over right in front of me and I wasn’t going to touch you?”
“Sorry for the mistake,” I said drily. “But how can you not have a waffle maker?”
He shrugged, stepping up beside me and staring into the same cupboard as if he had a different view. “I didn’t stock the kitchen. Or the rest of the house, for that matter. My assistant handled everything.”
“That’s boring.”
“You can buy whatever you want, you know. If it means that much to you.”
“Good. Then I’m buying a waffle maker.”
He pulled me up against him, his eyes dancing with a smile. “You should make that amazing casserole thing your mom used to make when we were kids.”
“Keep being nice to me and maybe I’ll do it,” I said, grinning from ear to ear. I wasn’t sure how I’d lived without this—this comfortable companionship—for so long.
“Have you even used the credit card I gave you?”
“Just for the new bedding in the master,” I said, my smile turning wicked. “Wanna go try it out?”
He leaned down, his lips brushing mine just as the doorbell rang.
I frowned, thinking immediately of another time I was in his house—our house, I corrected myself—and the doorbell rang with bad news. I didn’t want any more Alexa-sized surprises.
“You expecting someone?” I said.
He furrowed his brow, shaking his head as he stepped back, glancing down the hall. “No.”
I followed him across the hardwoods, strangely nervous. There was no way he had two wives, so why did I dread the moment that door opened?
Landon glanced through the peephole, and when he stepped back, a smile turning up the edges of his lips, I relaxed. Whoever was standing on the other side was a welcome visitor.
He yanked the door open.
“Julius,” he said, in a welcoming voice. “Trevor. To what do I owe the pleasure?”
“Hey, boss,” the guy on the left—Julius—said, reaching out to shake his hand. It turned into a bro-hug, with slaps on the back all around, as the three said hello.
“Come in,” Landon said, motioning to the house. “Meet my girlfriend.”
His words made me blush. It was the first time he’d introduced me like that, and the label felt like a giant badge of honor. Landon was no longer just a guy I was seeing; he was my boyfriend. I knew that, but hearing him speak it out loud somehow made it more real.
“Hi guys,” I said, reaching out a hand. Julius ignored it, enveloping me in a big hug. I felt like a tiny little kid wrapped up in his enormous arms.
These two were athletes, that much was clear.
“Come on into the kitchen, I’ve got beer if you’re done at the center for the day.”
“Oh we’re done alright,” Trevor said.
His words made Landon raise a brow, but he waited until he’d opened a round of beers for all of us, and we were sitting around the big island in the kitchen before he pressed for an explanation.
“So what’s going on, guys?”
“Alexa is a nightmare, bro. She’s going to run that place into the ground is what’s going on,” Julius said. “She’s trying to put her stamp all over the place, but it has no rhyme or reason.”
“How so?” I asked, taking a swig of the beer and trying to figure out how Landon was reacting to the idea of his pride and joy getting turned inside out. He’d told me he didn’t think she could run it the right way, but hoped his board of directors wouldn’t give her enough rope to hang herself.
“She suggested I see the nutritionist,” Trevor chimed in. “Said it would help me get my weight under control.”
Landon snorted.
“What?” I asked. I mean, the guy was a tank.