Page 22 of Gorgeous

She’s enjoying this. Her laugh gives her away.

“With Lawson and Nicole moved out, we have an extra room. Breck doesn’t have a car, and the orchardis half an hour away. I don’t see the reason behind your tantrum this morning.” She cuts me a look before delivering the killing blow. “You don’t want her on the streets at night, trying to walk to the orchard, do you? Because you know she won’t take a handout.”

I hate when Anniston is right.

I hate that she knows exactly what to say to shut me up.

“What about her job at the orchard? Won’t she be needed there?” It’s worth a shot. One last argument to keep Breck half an hour away and out of my fantasies.

This time, Anniston rolls her eyes, like how dare I doubt her powers of persuasion. “I—and, I really mean Theo here—spent so much money with the orchard for the wedding that Sue graciously offered up Breck and her services.”

Does that statement make me hard? Offering her and her services … no, not at all. I’m a reformed player. I don’t engage in sexual activities—unless with my hand—anymore. I am getting my life right and I won’t have a woman distract me ever again. The last time that happened, I lost everything.

“What about, Breck? Does she even want to do it?” My stomach clenches at the thought Breck will be here under protest. Why does it bother me that she wouldn’t want to be here? There’s no way I actually want her towantto be here, right? That’s crazy thinking.

“She was the one who suggested it. Not the whole staying here part” —she waves away the statement—“that was my idea. She only suggested bringing over some healthy meals in case you Neanderthals resort to pizza and cereal to avoid cleaning the kitchen.”

The thought had crossed my mind, but I’ll never admit it.

“Ugh. You’re killing me. Why can’t you just let me handle it?”

I flop down on her bed, jostling her suitcase in the process. Her face turns serious when she steps over to me and turns my face to hers and karmawhispers, “Because I love you and I will always take care of my boys.”

Fuck me.

“That’s a low blow,” I accuse, pulling back so I can look at her. “Tossing around the love word is our kryptonite and you know it.”

With a kiss to my jaw, she goes back to packing. “When have you known me to play fair?”

She has a point. What Anniston wants, Anniston gets. I blame Theo for making her this way, but realistically, it’s just in her DNA. She loves hard and judges no one. Every decision Anniston makes she believes is for the greater good. She means no disrespect or harm by forcing you to do something you’d rather not. She sees it as giving you that little push to do what she knows is good for you.

Translation: I’m fighting a losing battle here.

But I give it one more college try. “I’ll take her home every night,” I promise. Why didn’t I think of that earlier?

“I already told her she could stay. It’s rude to uninvite people, Cade.”

Is it technically uninviting her? I’m thinking it’s alternative hospitality. But regardless, Anniston and Theo are going to load up the rental car that’s parked out front and be gone for two solid weeks. What Anniston doesn’t know won’t hurt her. I’ll simply make Breck miserable so she’ll beg for a ride home every evening.

Five men in a house … she hasn’t seen shit.

I almost let out the evil laugh brewing inside me but manage to smother it down. “You’re right. Where are my manners?”

Her bright, answering grin kind of makes me feel like a jerk for plotting Breck’s demise at Foundation De La Asshole.

“There’s my southern gentleman. I knew you would see it my way.”

Sure I do. I fake smile and nod to her suitcase. “Are you planning to let Theo dress at any point in this calendared fuckfest?”

Her laughter fills her—and now Theo’s—bedroom, which currently looks like a warzone. She and Theo definitely consummated the marriage last night. I wish I could say they kept it contained to this room only, but I can’t. The kitchen, living room, and the gym (who the fuck knows what went down in there) all look just as bad. And before you think we all sat around watching 4-D porn, we didn’t. We packed it up and went to the bar, staying until last call. Hayes figured they would wear themselves out by then, and he was right.

“I’ll let him dress at game time. I read the ballparks have some kind of weird dress code. Something about wearing socks and shoes or some shit. So maybe I’ll let him put on socks and shoes.”

Smartass.

“As long as you feed and walk him at some point,” I say with a chuckle, getting up and heading to the bedroom door.

“Come hug Mommy and Daddy goodbye.”

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