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I frown as I stare into my empty glass before pouring another. As the CEO of my own company and a billionaire with rising successes, I’m used to getting what I want. Brooding alone in my living room in a grumpy mood isn’t exactly how I had pictured all of this going down. I thought that I could easily make Tabitha swoon over me again. Sure, we were broken up, but people break up and get back together all the time. Time passes and old feelings are softened, and people get over things and move on. I thought that would work in this case too, especially considering that I am now the most eligible and wealthiest bachelor in all of Maine. The local paper even did a small editorial on me when I decided to move my company headquarters here, with a tagline that said, “Handsome billionaire with cute kid comes to Camden—watch out ladies!”
But I was naïve to think that Tabitha would be like the rest of the groupies that I could get into my bed at the drop of a hat. She’s smart and sassy, and I should have known that she would still hate me to the ends of the earth for having broken up with her. I kind of hate myself for it too. It frustrates me that I fucked things up with Tabitha and now she is too stubborn to even hear me out.
I finish my drink in silence, stare at the fire for a while longer, and then head to bed. It’s only the first day of her being here. Maybe things will soften with time, or maybe not.
On my way down the hall, I pause in front of Tabitha’s open bedroom door. She must have forgotten to close it when she was storming back to her room. The way that the mirror on the wall aligns with the slightly cracked open bathroom door inside, I catch a reflection of the back of her stepping out of the tub. Water runs down her spine in a thin stream, and my eyes follow it to the tip of her tailbone before Tabitha wraps a towel around herself.
I turn quickly and leave down the hall toward my room before she has a chance to turn around and see me loitering outside her bedroom and accuses me of spying on her again. Especially after she had just gotten done telling me that she needed privacy. This time, it really was an accident though. I didn’t mean to catch her stepping out of the bath. And now that I have, I can’t wipe the image from my mind.
Tabitha and I have had sex before, back when we were together, andGodwas it good. It was the kind of sex that men fight wars over, which is another reason that I had been scared of committing to her. I didn’t want to fall too hard, so I bailed and tripped over some other woman instead.
Hindsight—it can be a bitch.
I walk into my bedroom and close the door. How am I ever supposed to get her out of my head now? When all that I want to do isdevourher.
In the city, it wasn’t long after word of Molly’s death got out that I had women practically beating down my door to get with me. Being single, wealthy, and not bad looking meant that I could get practically any woman that I wanted. But I didn’t.
Instead, I came back here, bought this giant house, and set up shop all just so that I could come back to see what I had walked away from, and see if I can get another chance at it. And since I never do anything halfway, moving Tabitha into my house, having her around my kid, and seeing her half-naked fresh from the bath are all things that seem to be tempting fate.
I know she says she can’t do this again—can’t be with me or get back those lost feelings—but I am starting to wonder if it’s because she still hasfeelingsfor me. Maybe that’s why she is so guarded and uneasy around me. Maybe it’s not just because I hurt her back then, but because she isstillhurting over it even now.
If the growing bulge between my legs means anything, then I would say my feelings for Tabitha are still very,verymuch still there too.
Chapter Five
Tabitha
My first night here was nothing but tossing and turning and restless sleep. How could I have expected anything else? Seeing Hunter has indeed invoked all of the feelings I had for him right back to the surface, and I am practically brimming with an angst I can’t squash.
I thought that I hadfinallystopped thinking about him and then,bam!I am right here living in the guy’s house. This may have been one of my stupidest life choices yet.
I spend the next few days really bonding with Theodore. He is the sweetest kid ever.
We go to the park, play in his room, and even try a failed experiment of making s’mores. Thankfully, he is still too little to rat me out to his dad that I nearly burned the house down trying to stick marshmallow laden skewers in the fireplace.
I try to stay focused on doing my job, taking care of Teddie and even teaching him a few new things, and avoiding close contact with Hunter as much as I possibly can,whichis nearly impossible to do considering that we now live under the same roof. Fortunately, that roof is abigone, and it’s not entirely impossible to be in a different room than Hunter most of the time. In the morning, I wake up and come out of my room for coffee only a few minutes before I know he is leaving for work. And since he’s been working long hours and not getting home until late, I put Teddie to bed, spend a few hours in the rest of the house, and then sequester myself in my bedroom as soon as I hear his car pull into the driveway. I figure that I will get through this first week andthenworry about what to do over the weekend. He did say that my free time is my own, so I plan on getting out of the house over the weekend and spending as little time there underfoot as possible.
I’m not sure if I’ll be able to keep up these evasion measures for the whole six months, but for a little while, it seems to be working. At leastuntilthere is an accident.
I had my back turned for literally only a second or two, but as soon as I hear the high-pitched screaming, I know something terrible has happened.
I drop the lunch I was preparing in the kitchen and tear out into the hallway as fast as my legs can run. There, at the bottom of the staircase, Teddie is laying on his stomach crying and squealing as if he is being tortured.
“What happened?” I ask on repeat as he tries to convey something to me through his blubbering sobs.
Miraculously, I manage to piece together that he fell down the stairs. Thankfully, he hadn’t been all the way at the top of them, only about a third of the way up. But still, he’s definitely hurt.
I do a quick check of him from head to toe, looking for any obvious injuries and then looking at his eyes as if I have any idea what the signs of a concussion look like.
He is still crying uncontrollably, squealing about his toe which is, admittedly, swelling up and turning a few different shades of purple.
I scoop him up in my arms and carry him quickly back to the kitchen, where I simultaneously grab a bag of frozen vegetables out of the freezer to hold to his toe, and also reach for my cell phone to call Hunter.
I dial his number three times with no answer. Then, I send him a text message.
Theodore fell down and got hurt. Call me.
I wait a few minutes and there is no answer.
