Page 51 of Sold to the Single Daddies

I picked her up and grunted when she wrapped her legs around my waist.

“Jesus, Reagan.”

“You already said that.” Her head rolled to my shoulder and she sighed. I couldn’t smell alcohol on her but it was clear she was hammered.

“You came to get me.”

“Who else was going to? You could’ve gotten yourself killed.” I put her in the truck and buckled her in after prying her arms and legs from around me. “I’m going to have a long talk with my sisters about their influence on you.”

Once I was behind the wheel I took a moment to look at her and clenched my jaw when I found her staring at me. She had her bottom lip caught between her teeth and her skin was flushed. She’d worn her hair down and it was all over the place, sliding forward to block the eye-popping amount of cleavage the dress was showing.

“I asked Nellie to call you.” She leaned over with both elbows on the console between us.

“I know. You drank too much and needed a ride home.”

She smiled. “Nope. I just had to say something to get you alone. You’ve been avoiding me like the plague.”

A wave of shock rolled over me. Staring at her, I realized she really wasn’t drunk. The conniving little brat had lied to get what she wanted. I was pissed off, even if another part of me was flattered that she’d resorted to lying to get to me.

“Are you fucking serious?”

She shrugged.

“I’m not drinking until I’m done breastfeeding Lucky and seeing how much he enjoys his feedings, I’m not sure when I’ll be drinking again.”

“You lied.” I shook my head and threw the truck into drive. I didn’t go over the speed limit but I fucking wanted to. If she hadn’t been in the truck I would have flown home. Just one more reason to be annoyed.

“Yeah, I lied. I had to. You won’t talk to me, Mills. You won’t even sit in the same room as me.” She stomped her foot and growled. “I did what I had to do. Pull over so we can talk.”

“No! I’m not doing whatever you want just because you say so. I’m not your puppet. I’m taking you home and then I’m moving into the bunkhouse.”

She gasped.

“No, you’re not.”

“Yes, I am.”

“No, you’re not! This is stupid!” She threw her hands up. “Just talk to me! What did I do that pissed you off so much? I thought we were getting past you hating me and now? Look at you.”

“I don’t hate you, goddammit! I just need some space.”

She grabbed the door handle.

“Stop the truck.”

“Get your fucking hand off that door, Reagan.” My heart jammed itself in my throat and I slowed the truck down, just in case she lost her mind and jumped out.

“Stop the truck!” She yanked her seatbelt off and I barely got the truck stopped before she threw the door open and got out. She glared back in at me and flipped me off.

“I’d rather walk home if this is how it’s going to be.”

“I bet you wish you’d called Tate or West now, huh?”

She froze.

“No. I got who I wanted. Unfortunately, who I wanted has a stick up his ass and would rather move out of his own house than talk to me.”

“Get back in the truck, Reagan!” I didn’t let her words get to me. She didn’t really want me. She was just—running. She was fucking running away. “Reagan!”

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