Page 102 of Sunkissed Colorado
Surging forward, I slammed him against the side of the lifted truck, barring my forearm against his throat. “Did you harass her back then too?”
Tommy’s mouth cracked with a knowing smile. His breath smelled like stale garlic and tequila. “Not me. I wasn’t the one with a pathetic little crush on her. The only girl at school you couldn’t have.”
“Bullshit. You had your sleazy eye on her.”
“Maybe. The bonfire party would’ve been the perfect chance for me to pop that cherry. You cockblocked me ’cause you worried I’d have her first.”
It took all my training and self control not to throttle him where he stood. “So that’s why you lied to Zandra about me after Jessa died? You told her I’d spread rumors about her.”
“That was me cockblocking you back. I didn’t want her drama after Jessa dying and all that shit, but I told her you were to blame for the rumors flying. Just in case you decided to come around trying to comfort her. Seemed like something you’d do.”
“Were you harassing her back then? Leaving notes and breaking her car window? Trying to make her life miserable?”
His smirk made my fury rise even more. “Nah, man. She made her life miserable by herself. Snapped at anyone who tried to get close.”
“Because she was in pain.”
“But why the fuck should I care about any of that?”
“Because you’re supposed to be a decent human being.” I pressed my forearm against his throat. “A woman like Zandra is worth a million of a bottom feeder like you.”
Tommy’s face turned bright pink. When he shoved at me, I let up, and he started coughing and spitting onto the concrete. “And you think she’d ever wind up withyou? You’re nothing, O’Neal. You’re a bartender. Just a weak little bitch whose mommy died and whose father didn’t give a shit about him. You’ve spent your whole sad life trying to make people love you. You think Zandra doesn’t see that?”
My vision clouded. If I didn’t get him out of here, I was going to do something I’d regret. There’d be bloodstains on the concrete for me to explain to Zandra when she got home. All around unpleasant. “You’re banned from Hearthstone. Find a new bar. Better yet, stop drinking and go to therapy so you can be a decent husband and father to your family.”
“I don’t need your crap beer anyway.”
“Stay the hell away from Zandra.”
“My pleasure. But you just better watch out for whoelseis hanging around her.” He backed up, still smirking, then got into a car and drove away.
Maybe I should’ve stopped him, considering the scent of alcohol on his breath. But I didn’t. I just wanted himgone. Before I did something myself to make that happen.
TWENTY-SIX
Zandra
At first,I didn’t notice the extra car parked beside my dad’s SUV when I pulled up. Too many other distractions were taking up space in my head.
The new info from Teller Landry had been anticlimactic. Far more momentous was the dinner thing. Almost like Callum had been asking me on areal date.
We’d eaten dinner together plenty of times now. He’d joked about the cooking lesson being a date, just because Callum joked about everything. But he’d never formally asked meto dinner.
It had felt…different.
But I was being ridiculous. Just last night, he’d bent me over the edge of his mattress and fucked me like a rough rider subduing a bucking bronco. Then he’d cuddled me and been sweet and funny all day today. His usual. That was just Callum. It was how he’d always charmed women into his bed. But he never held on to them for long. There was no way he’d meant to ask me on anactualdate.
Yet even the possibility had my heart dancing hopefully.
I had to shut that down right now.
The gravel crunched under my tires as I pulled into the area my parents used for overflow parking. Every window of the housewas lit up like they were having a photo shoot. As I marched toward the front entrance, I did a double take, noticing the black Maclaren 720S Spider. A car I unfortunately knew all too well.
What. The. Hell. Was he doing here.
Mom, you didn’t.
The front door opened, and Mom stepped out, a huge grin on her face. That was all the confirmation I needed.
