I step outside, frowning at his obvious sarcasm. “Yeah,Padre,I do.” I know I shouldn’t get defensive, but I can’t seem to help it. “I got Nico to the clinic for X-rays and treatment, I followed up with Miguel, and he’s filling out an accident report. What else do you want?”
“How about you keeping your dick in your pants when you’re on the job?”
For a moment I turn to stone, and then adrenaline streaks through my veins like venom. “What did you say?” The question comes out a growl, rumbling up from a place inside me both ancient and bloodthirsty.
“You heard me. And you know what I’m talking about.” Condemnation. Disappointment. Flashbacks of cracking a granite countertop when I was sixteen wash over me, and the fact that he’s talking to me like I’m a kid kindles anger.
“I know what youthinkyou’re talking about.” A vision of this morning and Millie’s sweet kiss flickers through my mind. Sam blabbed. That’s no surprise. But Papi’s accusation is. “But you shouldn’t be talking at all. I’m seeing Millie Delacroix. That’s my business.”
A harsh laugh cuts over the line. “Not when you’re staining the name ofmybusiness.”
Too many objections rise in my throat, leaving me speechless. I fill and empty my lungs, fighting for control. “First of all, Papi, it’sourbusiness.” I hear him draw breath, about to object, and I cut him off. “Don’t misunderstand me. I know you built it. Single-handedly. I watched you do it.”
Saying this aloud makes me soften toward him. Just a little. But he’s pissed me off, and he’s got to deal with it now.
“But we’ve worked together for years. The name on our business card isn’t just yours. It’s mine too.”
While he’s still the owner, Papi transferred operations to me when he nearly lost his leg. He was in ICU for two weeks and then in the rehab hospital for six, tending a wound that just wouldn’t heal—that still hasn’t completely healed. Just one of the reasons diabetes sucks so bad.
“So why you treating it like garbage? Sleeping with yourgringoclients and setting a bad example for your brother?”
I see red.
“Papi.”His name cracks like bone. I’m squeezing my phone so hard I could crush it. I hear footsteps, and glance up to see a woman wearing a look of alarm steering her young son around me. The boy cradles his arm in a sling, and he looks afraid. Not of the clinic. Of me.
I turn and stalk toward my truck. “Do not. Talk. About Millie. Do you understand me?”
He makes a noise in his throat. “So now that you’re the boss, you think what your Papi has to say doesn’t matter?”
I exhale and try to get a grip on my anger. This is where all this bullshit is coming from. Me running the business. Me taking over when he was in the hospital, fighting to keep his leg—and his life. Me doing exactly what he asked me to do to keep the business afloat. Keep his workers employed, his customers happy.
He’s never once thanked me. Sometimes it feels like heblamesme.
“Papi, you can say whatever you want to say about the business. Tell me I’m a shitty boss and every fuck-up is my fault. Whatever you want,” I growl. “But you don’t speak about Millie Delacroix unless it’s to say how fucking amazing she is.”
Then, for the first time in my life, I hang up on my father.
* * *
An hour later,I drop Nico off at his apartment. The ankle is badly sprained but not broken, and the doctor gave him a cold gel pack, a brace, and orders to stay off it and keep it elevated for a few days.
I want to be back at Millie’s when she gets home from the gym, but I can’t get Papi’s words out of my head. And I’m ready to wring Sam’s neck. My guess is he told Donner, who is in a GroupMe with the other site managers. I already know they gossip like a bunch of seventh grade girls. And if it’s not about who’s banging who, then it’s about what kind of mood I’m in.
Donner probably thought he’d nailed both categories.
Except I’m not sleeping with Millie.
And as much as his call galled me, I couldn’t bring myself to say that to Papi. But the truth doesn’t belong to him. Or Sam. Or Donner. Or anyone else.
But what’s also true is that I’m dying to be inside her. I’m dying to look into her eyes as I lose myself in her. I’m not going to lie to myself. I want the release. I want to chase her climax with my own. Bring her to that event horizon with my whole body.
But more than that, I want to join. To share. To couple with her. I want to be as close to her as two people can possibly be. I want to be one with her.
And when I think that the last man inside her was someone else—someone who hurt her—I’m ready to shred something.
I want to be the last man inside her.
This is where my head is when I pull up to the Sterling house. I’m just this side of feral. The crew is installing Tyvek wrap, and I swear, if I see even one trip hazard or safety violation, I’m going to lose my mind.
