The One Who Loves You (Tickled Pink #1)(61)

He rolls his eyes and hands me the plate of cookies so he can stand and stroll to the window. “Go away, Estelle. I’ve had enough of you this week.”

“That’s hardly polite.”

“Okay, pot.”

Gigi sucks in a breath so loud I can hear it over my own snort of laughter.

“Did you just call me impolite?” she demands.

“If the Louboutin fits . . . or do you wear Margot Lightly shoes? You don’t, do you? Lovely of you to support your daughter-in-law.”

“She’s only in business because I paid for her to be in business. I don’t need to wear the shoe to do the time.”

“Never even considered it, though, did you? Yep, you’re definitely on your way to heaven.” He does a slow clap. “Now go away.”

“I need to discuss snowshoe baseball strategy with you. Don’t pretend you won’t love every minute of watching my family eat dirt. You’re going to hell with us, Teague Miller.”

“Maybe, but I won’t be dying with regrets.”

I can’t decide if I’m horny or horrified, but I know that I suddenly want to strip Teague naked and do him all over again.

He’s talking back to my grandmother.

And he’s living.

So far.

“Let down the elevator,” Gigi orders.

Teague doesn’t answer.

Instead, he stands there, arms crossed, legs wide, glaring out the window like she’s the Wicked Witch of the West and he can use the powers of his mind to make a house drop on top of her.

It’s not an entirely fair comparison, but this has been a rough week.

“You know I could pack up my bank account and leave this town?” Gigi says.

“Got by just fine for years without your bank account, and we will again once you’re gone. We’re not here so you can buy your way into heaven, Estelle. There are no shortcuts.”

She sucks in a breath.

I’m not laughing anymore either.

Gigi might be terrifying, but she’s also the one who saved me the day that deer tried to eat my head. She taught me that you can’t succeed in business if you show fear or weakness, no matter what you’re feeling inside. She brought me a flashlight in case the power went out during a long two weeks one summer when Tavi, Carter, and I were moved into her town house with our nanny while our own house underwent renovations. We were supposed to be in Spain on vacation but had to skip it because Dad had thrown out his back and needed surgery for a slipped disk.

Mom went to Spain without us.

And suddenly I realize that must’ve been one of the times Mom caught Dad cheating on her.

All the little innuendos about how Dad slipped a disk in his back over the years, Mom’s flat glare anytime it comes up, Dad’s discomfort—it all clicks.

He was.

He was sleeping with another woman when he threw his back out.

Gigi isn’t perfect.

But she cares in her own way.

And that counts.

“Do you know what, Mr. Miller?” Gigi says.

“I have no earthly idea what, Mrs. Lightly.”

“You might be good enough for my granddaughter after all.”

I suck in another breath.

It’s like she knows that giving her seal of approval is the worst possible thing she could offer.

Worse?

Teague doesn’t tense. He doesn’t growl. He doesn’t leap back in horror.

Instead, he lifts a hand and waves like he’s dismissing her. “Love the mind games, Estelle. Don’t ever change.”

Oh. My. God.

Is this what swooning feels like?

Is this—is this honest, primal lust for a man who’s not afraid to play my grandmother right back?

He shuts the window and turns to me. “Same time next week?”

My lips part.

The last time a man said that to me, I was in a hidden alcove on the terrace above where my mother was hosting a post-fashion-week gala, with a man I’d hooked up with because our families had similar goals but we’d yet to form a formal alliance.

That fling lasted four months and led to Remington Lightly acquiring a cleaning-products line in exchange for our flailing office-supply division.

I foresee many more orgasms in this arrangement with Teague, even if my heart’s shrinking a little at the realization that for him, this is just a way to kill time while we go about the business of getting both of our lives back to normal.

And that’s how it should be.

Just because I’m infatuated with a man, not for what he can do for me and my family but because he’s honestly attractive, doesn’t mean I get to have a real relationship. So I should appreciate this for what it is.

I give him my best seductive smile, even though a small part of me is dying a little inside.

I like him.

I like him.

And friends with benefits? A weekly arrangement?

It’s not enough.

But it’s something. A start. A possibility of more. “I’ll put you on my calendar.”





Chapter 21


Teague


Phoebe Lightly is hot in baseball pants.

Should’ve seen that coming. Especially since I saw her naked five days ago.

Nearly down to the hour.

Not that I’m counting. Or obsessed. Or wondering why the fuck I suggested waiting an entire week to see her naked again for a scheduled booty call on the calendar. Who does that?