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“Sage advice, Lily,” he mutters, arching an eyebrow at me. “Sage advice.”
I glare up at him, grateful no one else can see my face right now. Asshole.
Jensen and Haley are a completely different situation than Jameson and me. There isn’t even a Jameson and me. Jensen and Haley were in love. Jameson and I are just having sex until we get it out of our systems. Even if the boundaries of just sex are getting a bit confusing with him making me dinner every night and then waking up in my bed every morning. But it’s just sex. That’s all this can ever be. There’s no point in wanting more when I know I can’t have it.
“Do you think it’s too early to introduce this little girl to Violet? She’s just so scared. I think she would do better with some company. I bet they’re going to be best friends.”
Jameson gives me a slow, sexy smile. Damn this man and his smiles. He doesn’t get to turn me on like this when two of his brothers and his dad are less than ten feet away.
“I bet they are. Let me come and help you. We can introduce them outside in the paddocks. Give them a chance to see and sniff each other through the fence. If that goes well, they can meet without the fence. Violet’s such a good girl,” Jameson says. I can hear exactly what he’s not saying. Violet’s such a good girl, just like her mama. “If they get along well enough, we can set them up in a stall together. Apple Pie’s small enough and seems like she needs the company. You go get Violet. I’ll bring Apple Pie over. I’m already her favorite. Love me some apple pie.”
All of that deserves one big freaking eye roll.
* * *
After saying goodbye to my two best girls at the farm, I head to the grocery store on the way home. I’ve never grocery shopped this much in my life, but with Jameson making us a real, grown-up dinner every night, I’m at this store a couple of times a week. Sometimes he asks me to buy certain stuff, or he buys it himself. But usually, I just buy whatever I feel like, and he somehow makes it work. I watch Jameson make dinner for us in my kitchen every night, and every single night it seems like magic how he manages to take simple ingredients and turn them into something delicious. He never uses a recipe, and he just makes do with whatever I have. Now that he’s in my house cooking all the time, my kitchen is actually pretty well-stocked for the first time in my life.
When we had a minute to ourselves, Jameson said he needed to stay out at the farm to finish up a few things, so even after going to the grocery store, I should get to my house before him. I’m thinking about that man and how he drives me crazy as I try to unlock my front door with my hands full of two big grocery bags. Only after the third failed attempt to shove my key into the lock, do I actually look at what I’m doing.
My key isn’t going into the lock… because the lock isn’t there anymore.
Instead of my old brass knob and deadbolt, there’s a big new brass handle with a passcode on it. “What the hell?”
I don’t even need to ask the question. I know exactly who did this.
Jameson.
An angry text isn’t going to cover this. Pulling my phone out of my purse, I tap on Jameson’s number to call him. Every ring has me more and more pissed off.
“Hey, babe. What’s up?”
I’m so mad I’m nearly spitting. “Why can’t I get into my house right now, Jameson? Why do I now need a passcode to open my front door? A passcode I don’t even have!”
“Because I changed the locks to keypads to keep you safe. Now you don’t need to leave a key under the mat anymore. The people who need to get in can just have the code. Like me.”
“I’m not sure you’re going to need the code, kid.”
“You sure about that, Lemon?” he says with a laugh.
And then my front door opens.
From the inside.
Jameson is standing right in front of me, looking smug as fuck.
“Sorry, I forgot to give you the code, babe. I meant to send it to you when I got back to the farm, but then I found Apple Pie. That little girl had my whole afternoon—not to mention the backseat of my truck—going to shit. I spent an hour cleaning hay and dirt out of it this afternoon. Thank fuck for the tarp at the back end, catching all of her shit. What are you doing still standing out there, babe? Don’t you want to come in before someone sees me inside your house?”
“Asshole.”
As pissed as I am at him, I walk inside and let him close the door behind me. I don’t need all my neighbors seeing me scream at him and telling him to get the hell out of my house. He can leave out the back door like the sneaky trespasser he is.
“Why are you in my house?”
“You know there’s no place I’d rather be. Well, inside you. But in your house with you is a close second.” Jameson reaches out and takes the grocery bags from my hands before turning and heading for the kitchen.
I follow along after him, still in shock about the front door situation. “What happened to my lock? You know, the one that’s been on this house since it was built more than a hundred years ago?”
“I changed it to a keypad so you can stop leaving a key under the mat on the back porch.”
