Rush Too Far (Rosemary Beach #4)(4)

Had she really just suggested I call the police? And was that disdain for her dear ol’ dad that I heard in her voice? I was pretty damn sure it was. Maybe he hadn’t been the model father that Nan had imagined in her head from the one short visit she’d made to that house when she was a kid. Sounded like Abe was on her shit list.

“I don’t like your father, and judging from the tone in your voice, neither do you,” I said, letting the idea that maybe she was another casualty of Abe Wynn sink in. He’d abandoned Nan, and it sure as hell sounded like he had abandoned this daughter, too. I was about to do something I would regret. “There is one room that is empty tonight. It will be until my mom gets home. I don’t keep her maid around when she isn’t here—Henrietta only stops by to clean once a week while Mom is on vacation. You can have her bedroom under the stairs. It’s small, but it’s got a bed.”

The look of disbelief and relief on her face almost made the idea of facing Nan worth it. Even though I was pretty damn sure Blaire and Nan had father-abandonment issues in common, I knew Nan would never accept that. She was determined to hate someone, and Blaire was going to take the brunt of her anger.

“My only other option is this truck. I can assure you that what you’re offering is much better. Thank you,” she said tightly.

Fuck. Had I really been about to leave this girl in a truck? That was dangerous. “Where’s your suitcase?” I asked, wanting to get this over with and talk to Nan.

Blaire closed the truck door and walked back to get her suitcase. There was no way her little body was picking that up and lifting it over the bed of the truck. I reached behind her and grabbed it.

She spun around, and the astonished look on her face made me grin. I winked at her. “I can carry your bag. I’m not that big of an ass.”

“Thank you a-again,” she said with a stutter, as those big, innocent-looking eyes locked with mine.

Damn, her eyelashes were long. I didn’t see girls without their makeup often. Blaire’s natural beauty was startling. I would have to remind myself that she was nothing but trouble. That and keep my f**king distance. Maybe I should have let her get her own bag. At least if she thought I was an ass**le, she’d stay away.

“Ah, good, you stopped her. I was giving you five minutes and then coming out here to make sure you hadn’t completely run her off,” Grant said, snapping me out of whatever trance this girl had put me under. Motherf*cker, I had to stop this shit now.

“She’s gonna take Henrietta’s room until I can get in touch with her father and figure something out,” I replied, and shoved the luggage at Grant. “Here, you take her to her room. I have company to get back to.”

I didn’t glance back at her, nor did I make eye contact with Grant. I needed distance. And I needed to talk to Nan. She wasn’t going to be happy, but there was no way in hell I was letting that girl sleep in her truck. She would draw attention. She was gorgeous and completely unable to take care of herself. Dammit! Why had I gone and pulled Abe Wynn into our life? He was causing all this shit.

Nan was standing at the door with her arms crossed over her chest, glaring at me. I wanted her pissed. As long as she was mad at me, she wouldn’t cry. I didn’t deal well when she cried. I’d been the one trying to ease her pain since she was little. When Nan cried, I immediately started trying to fix things.

“Why is she still here?” Nan snapped, looking over my shoulder before I could shut the door and block out the fact that Grant was headed this way with Blaire.

“We need to talk.” I grabbed her arm and pulled her away from the door and toward the stairs. “Upstairs. If you’re gonna yell, I don’t want to cause a scene,” I told her, making sure to use my stern voice.

She frowned and stomped up the stairs like a five-year-old.

I followed her up, hoping she would get far enough away from the front door before it opened. I didn’t take a deep breath until she was stalking into the bedroom she had used back when this was our summer home. Before I became an adult and took what was mine.

“You’re buying her shit, aren’t you? Grant talked you into it! I knew I should have followed him out there. He is such a dickhead. He’s only doing this to get to me,” she spat out before I could say anything.

“She’s staying in the room under the f**king stairs. It isn’t like I’m putting her up here. And she’s only staying until I can get a hold of Abe and figure out what to do. She has no gas in her truck and no money to get a hotel room. You want to be mad at somebody, fine, be mad at motherf*cking Abe!” I hadn’t meant to raise my voice, but the more I thought about Abe running off to Paris knowing that his daughter was headed here in a beat-up old truck with no money, the more it pissed me off. Anything could have happened to her. She was too damn breakable and needy.

“You think she’s hot. I saw the look in your eyes. I’m not stupid. That’s all this is,” Nan said, before sticking out her lip in a pout. “Seeing her hurts me, Rush. You know that. She had him for sixteen years. It’s my turn!”

I shook my head in disbelief. She thought she had Abe now? Really? He was off living it up in Paris on my mother’s dime, and Nan thought that meant she had won? “He’s a f**king loser, Nan. She had his ass for sixteen years. I don’t think that means she won something. He let her come here thinking he would help her and didn’t think twice about the fact that she’s a little helpless girl with these big-ass sad eyes that any man could take advantage of.” I stopped talking, because I was saying too much.