Page 7 of The Way Back Home

I glare at him. “I know today was difficult for you, but you don’t have to be such an asshole. Neither one of us want me here, and I assure you I won’t stay longer than absolutely necessary.”

“Difficult? You think that’s what burying both your parents on the same day is ... difficult? You don’t know the half of it, lady.”

“Don’t presume to tell me what I do and don’t know. You don’t know shit about me, Cotton,” I snap, and for the briefest moment I think I see a smile tug at the corners of his lips, but then it’s gone, and so is mine along with it.

“Don’t want to either.”

Ouch. I shove past, my shoulder bumping his side as I stalk out into the hall and up the stairs. Bettina is brushing her teeth in the bathroom across from my room, and I have to fight to remove the scowl from my face to smile down at her. The poor girl has been through enough, and with a brother like August Cotton, I’m sure the hardest times are still yet to come.










CHAPTER THREE

Olivia

THE CHURNING OF MYstomach wakes me. I know, that’s as nuts as it sounds, but I am not a girl accustomed to not eating. I need three square meals a day and usually a cookie or two before bed. It really is a wonder I’m not the size of a house. That’s not to say I don’t have days where I wish the docs fromBotchedwould come perform their magic on my ass with their lipo wand thingy, but for the most part, I’m comfortable in my own skin. It’s the only one I got. I have curves, but I’m not ... fluffy, so to speak. Then again, I’ll likely never make theSports Illustratedswimsuit issue, either.

I blink at the God-awful light coming from the sheer lace—I forgot to close the actual curtains over the French doors last night—and I climb out of bed, wrap a nude-pink silk robe over the top of my Carine Gilson chemise and hop across the room. I’m terrified I’m going to pee my pants. I fling wide my door and skip across the hall to the bathroom, where I bust in on August with his sweatpants hung low on his hips and his hand fisting his hard cock. I stagger back, trip over the doorjamb and land smack-bang on my ass. My robe and chemise are pushed up around my middle, and for the second time in as many days, my panties are on display for a man I hardly know. And even worse than that, I’m still staring, slack-jawed and wide-eyed at the erect penis in my face.

“Holy hot co ... Lord, is that ... um,” I say. It just slips out. I have no control over my mouth right now. Heat rushes up my neck, over my chest like a wave spreading across my skin and leaving behind a tide of blotchy ugliness. That’s when I notice the twisted flesh of his abdomen and hip.

“You don’t knock?” August sneers, tucking himself back into his pants.

“I’m sorry,” I say, attempting to get to my feet, but slipping on the smooth tiles. In the end, I decide it’s best just to stay where I am. It seems the safest bet with an angry Marine bearing down on me. I do rearrange my robe, though. “I just ... I needed to pee. I didn’t know you were in here. Besides, you didn’t lock the door.”

“There are no locks.”

“What?” I glance in horror at the door in question. I can’t have someone barging in on me while I’m in the bath, or worse, on the commode. What kind of bed and breakfast is this?

August eyes me suspiciously as if I meant to walk in on him. “You didn’t notice that last night?”

“I used the bathroom down stairs last night. I didn’t think you were going to use this bathroom anymore.”

“Well, by all means, allow me to get out of your way, princess.”

I huff, exasperated. “Princess?”

“It’s what you look like in your lacey little rich girl panties down on your knees, just willing to make everything better. You wanna know how to make it all better? Stay the fuck outta my way.”