Page 80 of Bad Run

“Fine,” I grumble, not wanting to blow up. I grab the suitcase from her hands and march toward the house.

“Lance, wait.” She grips my forearm, forcing me to stop and look at her. “I’m sorry. I was going to pack more. Then I thought it would be dumb to since you’re going to go on the road again in five days, so I was going to stay at my place when you were gone. It’s closer to the stadium and, to be honest, it seemed weird to stay at your place without you here.”

The sizzle of my anger dwindles.

She’s as anxious about this situation as I am. I don’t like that she doesn’t want to stay here when I’m gone, but I can’t take the choice away from her. She has to want to be here when I’m not.

“You’re right. I’m sorry for overreacting.”

“It’s okay.” Her hand falls away from my arm, and a smile curls her lips up. “I like this.”

“Like what?” I ask.

She shrugs. “That I can talk to you. Say what I’m thinking, and you accept it, no questions. You just listen. It’s nice.”

“I’m pretty sure I just did a shit job, but I’ll do better.”

“You’re doing better than you think,” she says, making my chest tight. “Come on.”

Gwen walks ahead of me toward the house, and I watch her hips sway with each step. My eyes fall to her hourglass figure and pert ass. She turns around and laughs.

Busted.

Walking backward, she shakes her head at me and smirks. “Are you going to keep standing there staring at my ass, or are you going to show me your place?”

As if enchanted by her spell, my feet move of their own accord.

“Coming, dear,” I call out.

To be clear, I could stare at her sexy ass all day long.

twenty-six

Gwen

Present

Lance’s house looks nothing like I pictured in my head.

His home is charmingly beautiful. The house is all Spanish architecture meets California luxury. Terracotta roofing, black-framed windows, creeping ivy, dark brown wood accents, and original Spanish tiles.

I love how dreamy and calming the house feels just by looking at it.

I reach for the handle and freeze. A nervous energy zips through me, and the butterflies in my stomach take flight.

“Open the door, Gwen,” Lance’s gritty voice commands.

Shivers race down my spine, and my eyes close as I revel in his presence.

This is really happening.

With an exhale, I do as directed and open the door, stepping inside.

Like the outside of Lance’s home, the traditional Spanish and modern California theme continues. Chocolate hardwood floors cover the entry and lead from the front door to the living room and the kitchen beyond.

The space looks open and cozy at the same time, with its soaring ceilings, exposed dark wood beams, and the floor-to-ceiling window at the back of the home that floods the space with natural light and gives you the perfect view of the backyard and the giant-ass pool and spa.

Everywhere, there is a splash of the original home mixed in with modern touches. Cream rugs to match the stucco-textured walls. Matching the exposed beams, dark wood side tables sit beside a fluffy chocolate sectional that faces the glass windows and backyard. The Spanish tiled fireplace, the modern art on the walls—all of it works.