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I scooped her up beneath her thighs and lifted her easily into the truck, her hand knocking into mine as she reached for the buckle. Her fingers fought me for the strap, and my gaze locked with hers in challenge. She couldn’t step into the truck two minutes ago. I highly doubted she could maneuver the buckle into place.
“Let go,” I demanded, and she pinched my hand hard before letting me do it. Once I snapped it into place, I stepped back.
“You sure you’ve got her?” her best friend asked.
“I’m sure,” I said.
“All right. I’ll stay and hang out for a little longer. I’ll call you tomorrow, Pres.” Lola waggled her brows at me, and I rolled my eyes because the drunk woman in the truck was currently shooting daggers at me, so there was nothing funny about this.
I shut the passenger door and turned to wait for Lola to walk back inside. I might not be the cheeriest person on the planet, but I wasn’t an asshole. I wouldn’t leave a woman outside alone. “You sure you’ve got a ride home?”
“Yes, Dad,” she said, her voice all tease. “Hey, Cage.”
“Yeah.”
“Go easy on her. She’s had a lot on her plate lately.”
I nodded. I knew it was true, even if Presley would never admit it.
Lola walked inside, and I moved around the truck and climbed in before pulling out of the parking lot. I glanced over to see her watching me.
“Thanks for the ride,” she huffed.
“Not a problem.” I cleared my throat. Having her in this small space, with her scent all around me and her eyes on me, had me on edge.
“I saw the booster seat in the back. How old is your little girl now?”
“Gracie is five years old.” I drove toward her parents’ ranch.
“It’s still hard for me to believe that you’re a daddy. I mean, I always knew you’d be a great father.” She stared out the window when I pulled up the driveway of the grand ranch house, and she pointed to the new addition. “I’m staying in the guesthouse.”
Damn. The barn sat in the distance, and I had a vivid memory of the first time I met her. The first time I kissed her. Right there in that very place.
For the longest time, I was fairly certain Presley would be the last woman I’d ever kiss.
But life didn’t always go the way you planned.
I had a little girl waiting for me at home that was proof of that.
I put the truck in park and turned to face her. Hell, even my body was on edge now.
It was unfamiliar after all these years.
Feeling things.
Wanting things I had no right to want.
“You doing okay?” I couldn’t stop myself from asking. I already knew the answer. And as much as I hated that she’d married another man, I wanted to kill him for hurting her.
A feral need to protect this woman had always been there since the day I’d met her.
She shook her head, and a single tear streaked down her face. I reached forward, but she held up a hand to stop me from touching her.
“I’m drunk. That’s all this is. I don’t want your pity, Cage.” She sucked in a breath and squared her shoulders.
“It’s not pity. I know you’re hurting. Having your husband do what he did, and then the whole world knowing what happened… that can’t feel good.”
Her jaw clenched, and her gaze narrowed. “You know nothing about my marriage. You know nothing about me anymore. But know one thing for certain”—her voice was shaking now, and she scrambled for the door handle—“youare the reason that my life is the disaster that it is.”
