Heartless (Chestnut Springs, #2)(11)



If I didn’t actually kind of want this gig, I’d march over there and lay into him for being an overstepping, presumptuous prick.

Undergarments. What year even is this? And why would they traumatize a kid?

He might technically be my employer for the next couple months, but I’m the one doing him a favor. I don’t need the income; I just need a purpose. So I opt to do what will piss him off even him even more.

I rise above.

Well, sort of.

I plaster on the sweetest smile I can muster and turn to look back over my shoulder. “I’ll be ready for your inspection tomorrow, boss.”

Then I wink and saunter away, feeling the weight of his gaze on my body and knowing he’s probably wondering if I’m wearing any undergarments right now.





5





Cade





Summer: She’s going to be great. You’re going to love her.

Cade: No. I’m not. I’m going to tolerate her.

Summer: Po-tay-to, po-tah-to! Just be nice.

Cade: I am nice.

Summer: No. You’re kind of an asshole.

Cade: With family like you telling me things like this, I just can’t imagine why.

Summer: Don’t worry though. It’s part of your charm.

Cade: I’m a charming asshole?

Summer: Exactly!





I wish I could pretend I’m not standing on the front porch waiting for her. But I am.

She grates on my nerves, sure. But my kid seems to like her and I’m still a gentleman at my core.

I pull my cell phone out of my back pocket and check the time. My countdown is on. She seems like the type of person who would be late. Scattered. Disorganized.

Or maybe I just want her to be so I can be justified in not liking her. If she’s late the first time we make an agreement, I’ll be able to show everyone that I was right. That she isn’t responsible enough to take care of Luke.

Truthfully, I don’t know who is. I don’t trust easily. Especially not women.

She has six minutes.

I smile to myself, prop a hip against the banister, feeling like there’s a good chance I’ll be right.

And it’s at that moment the crunching of gravel draws my gaze up.

It’s at that moment I’m proven wrong.

Because Willa’s red Jeep is rolling down my driveway five minutes early.

She pulls right up beside my black truck and hops out. I stare at her feet, starting at her Converse sneakers, letting my eyes trail up long, slender legs to simple denim cutoffs topped with an oversized, distressed Led Zeppelin shirt. There’s a hole in it near her stomach, and I can see a little peek of milky skin through it.

Big Ray-Ban aviators sit on her nose, and her coppery hair is wild and wavy around her shoulders. It frames her delicate face like dancing flames. A wisp of it blows across her lips.

The lips that are all glossy and tipped up in a smirk.

“You’re early,” I growl, because I don’t know what else to say. I can’t peel my eyes off of her, even though I want to. Even though she’s not at all my type at this point in my life.

She has city girl written all over her. She has wild child written all over her. She’s not some sweet, small-town girl.

She’s the girl who told me she’d be ready for me to inspect her undergarments and didn’t think twice about it.

She has temptation written all over her.

But she doesn’t act like it, instead she shrugs and pulls her sunglasses off her face, pinning me with her emerald eyes. The kind of eyes that stop you in your tracks.

If nothing else, Willa Grant is a stunner.

Too young for me. Too unpredictable for me.

But a stunner all the same.

“I was excited to get out here.”

I blink at her because, well, what am I supposed to say to that? I’m here counting all the ways in which she’s a problem for me, and she’s just excited to be here and take care of my child.

Maybe I am the asshole everyone tells me I am.

“Willa!” Luke comes tearing out of the house like a bat out of hell, socked feet straight down the dirt path and onto the gravel driveway. He knows better but hasn’t stopped talking about Willa since she left yesterday. Poor kid is so starved for female attention that all someone needs to do is climb a tree with him and he has them up on a pedestal.

He comes to a screeching halt in front of her. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

Willa laughs, all pretty and sexy, with a little rasp—like she smokes or something. And I’m wondering if she does. I didn’t ask her if she smokes.

She crouches in front of him and ruffles his soft hair. “I’m so glad to be here. We’re going to have the best summer.”

“What are we going to do?” His eyes go all sparkly, excitement pouring off him.

“Everything,” she replies, waving a hand in a wide arc. “All the things.”

My brows furrow from their own fruition. I want Luke to have fun, but not too much fun.

She reads my expression because her eyes twinkle with amusement. “Cliff diving. Bull riding. I’ll even teach you how to shotgun a beer.”

I shake my head at her as my lips flatten, already seeing my peaceful summer swirling down the drain.

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