Heartless (Chestnut Springs, #2)(61)

For all the years he’s spent running his mouth, he’s got nothing to say to me right now.

“See you at home?” I call out as he heads over to Jasper’s vehicle.

“Yup.” He waves over his shoulder.

“Tell Summer to keep those goddamn snakeskin boots to herself!” I call, hoping to engage him. I’d rather argue with Rhett than get his cold shoulder. He’s spent his entire life bitching at me, and I want him to keep going.

When he gets to the passenger’s side door, he turns and glares back at me, a faint tip to his lips. “I don’t tell Summer what to do. Wouldn’t listen if I tried. That’s the best kind of woman if you ask me.” He winks and hops in with Jasper. They peel away with a wave, and I’m sure they’ll gossip like little biddies about me on their drive back to Chestnut Springs.

The ladies in town have nothing on them.

Assholes.

Luke is still asleep when I hop in the truck, which means it’s just me and my vicious thoughts on the drive.

Me and my regrets.

Luke wakes when we hit the gravel roads and begs to spend the night with Grandpa, like a psycho toy that got plugged in for an hour after running out of batteries and is now charged and ready to terrorize more adults.

I drop him off. Love him as I do, I’m not in the mood to play and be fun.

When I get home, there’s no laughter. There’s no music. There’s no Willa and Luke dancing and singing in the kitchen while cookies bake in the oven.

It’s quiet. And I’m lonely.

Deeply lonely.

And angry I sent her away. Angry she’s having fun with another guy right now. Multiple guys probably.

I drop my bag and start cleaning to busy myself, scouring corners that no one will ever see. Scrubbing to take out my frustration, to keep away the jealousy that is scorching me from the inside out. It’s raging through my veins, searing every nerve ending.

It’s fucking consuming.

When my hands hurt, I stop and take a shower. My dick is hard, but I’m too pissed off to jerk it, so when I get back out, I’m more agitated.

Stomping around my house, I opt to pour myself a bourbon and go sit on the front porch. I know why I’m going there, but I refuse to admit it. I tell myself the view is good from here, but when I take a seat on the top step and glance to the side, I see little doodles painted on the railings. Suns and stars. Happy faces and XOXO.

And hearts.

Willa drew hearts on my front porch, and now I’m stuck sitting here, drowning in the thought that the real reason I’m out here is that I’m waiting for her to get home.

I’m too sick with jealousy to do anything else.





21





Willa





Summer: Are you okay?

Willa: Yeah. Why?

Summer: I just got a text from Cade asking.

Willa: You can tell Cade I’m getting railed by ten dudes at the best gangbang of my life.

Summer: Oof. Even I’m not that brave. I’ll let you tell him that yourself.

Summer: He seems stressed, Willa. Just letting you know.

Willa: Good.





I sigh in relief when the cab hits the gravel road. So close. I want to be home like nothing I’ve quite felt before.

It felt wrong being out with Lance and all his cowboy buddies without Cade there. Objectively I had fun, but my head was somewhere else.

My heart was somewhere else.

And as mad as I wanted to be that Cade thought he could check in on me through my best friend when he has my number and could easily have texted me himself, the thought of him being stressed about my safety left a pit in my stomach.

I guess that’s why I pulled the Irish goodbye and snuck out like a chicken. All the guys were perfect gentlemen, but they were heading for a level of whipped up in celebrating their win that I just didn’t want to be.

The bar scene exhausts me now, and as the cab lights up the dark country roads, I realize I’m torn between wanting this summer to be over because I need the space from Cade, and never wanting it to end because I don’t want to go back to my life in the city.

We cross under the big wooden posts that mark where the Wishing Well Ranch land begins.

“Just down this road and then veer left,” I direct the driver, who responds with a simple hum. I’m grateful that he hasn’t been the chatty type of cab driver because I’m all chatted out for tonight.

When the lights turn into Cade’s driveway and shine at the picturesque rancher, my body sags with relief. This isn’t my home, but . . . I feel like I’m home.

I tap my card on the cabbie’s machine to pay the obscenely expensive total and step out. Cade is sitting on the front step, glaring at me. His elbows are resting on his knees and he’s holding a glass tumbler in his large hands.

There’s an energy about him. He looks dangerous tonight, and well, I’m in the mood for a fight.

As the cab pulls away, I poke the bear. “Waiting up for me, Daddy?” I bat my eyelashes and hike my purse up on my shoulder.

I swear he growls. “It’s late. You could have let me know when you were coming home. It’s still my house you’re living in.”

“I guess I should stay at the main house on the weekends then, just so I don’t inconvenience you,” I snipe back, even though I don’t want to stay at the main house.