Tequila Rose by Willow Winters (any book recommendations .TXT) 📗

There’s no more furniture to put together. No more focusing on working a screwdriver or drill and not thinking about the woman who’s under my skin.

“Shower,” I answer easily enough and then lean against the countertop, taking a look around the place. It’s minimal with dark woods, but light and bright white accents. It’s airy and reminds me of the shore most of all. Which, I remind myself, is the entire reason I’m here.

Not for Rose or Magnolia, or whoever this woman wants to be.

Even if thoughts of her lips keep me up at night. Even if I can’t help but want to rewind every moment we’ve had together so I can say the right things and end each night with a kiss like the one we had on the pier.

“You keep sighing like that and someone’s going think you’re depressed,” Griffin says, mocking me from across the open living space. All I can do is give him a scowl in return but he doesn’t see since he still hasn’t looked up.

I crack my neck to the left and right and make my way around the counter to go shower and get my shit together.

“So she may have had a low-key thing with a guy. Maybe … it’s just a rumor.”

I don’t bother answering Griffin, I don’t even halt my steps. The truth is it’s not just a rumor when she’s out with me but leaves the second she sees him. That’s not fucking gossip; that’s reality.

“You should just ask her,” Griffin calls out as I walk down the narrow hallway to the master suite. Again I don’t answer him but I at least agree with that sentiment.

Shower. And then I’m damn well going to see her, talk to her and ask her if she’s got anything to hide. If I could get her out of my head, I wouldn’t bother.

But I can’t and what’s worse, is that I don’t want her out of my head.

The ring that comes with the door to the gallery swinging open is followed by a “Welcome!” and then “I’ll be with you in just one moment” from somewhere in the back right corner. It sounds like Magnolia is rearranging a piece or two with her back to the door. Her smile’s bright and wide, looking gorgeous on her sun-kissed skin paired with a pale blue dress that has buttons all the way down the front of it.

Of course, it fades when she sees who it is who walked into her gallery. Her eyes grow a little wider, and I’d feel like shit if they didn’t flash with something that looked like relief and her chest didn’t flush all the way to her cheeks. If she didn’t stand there looking back at me like I just stole her last breath.

Yeah, I’d feel like shit if our gazes weren’t locked with something that seemed an awful lot like hope.

“You look beautiful.” I can’t help but to tell her.

“You always say that,” she says then blushes deeper and the smile comes back, although not full force.

I shrug. “You always look beautiful.”

Tucking her hair behind her ear, she avoids my gaze as she tells me thank you beneath her breath and strides through the displays at a leisurely pace to the counter. Her on one side, me on the other.

When she finally peeks up at me, her forearms resting on the counter so she’s leaning closer to me, I can see the desperation, the want, the longing in her doe eyes.

“You didn’t text me back,” she says, her voice soft and knowing.

“No, I didn’t.”

“So what are you doing in here?” Her voice is soft and velvetlike, but there’s a sadness still present.

“You wanted to talk and I thought we should.”

With a nod, she murmurs, “Right.” Ripping her gaze from mine, she stands taller as a crease mars her forehead. “I have some things that I think you should know.” She clears her throat and it’s obvious she’s uncomfortable.

“Is Robert one of those things?” I get right to the point, tired of this bullshit. “Because I don’t really care if you had something before with him. If it’s over, it’s over. I give a shit that you up and leave me when you see him, though.”

“He didn’t know and—”

“Didn’t know what?” I ask to clarify but hate that I cut her off when she’s finally telling me what the hell is going on.

“That I was …”

“That you were seeing me?”

“That I was seeing anyone. You don’t understand.” Frustration brings her hands to her hair and she takes a deep breath. I wait as she appears to start to say something but then takes another deep breath first.

“He helped me through a lot when I had no one. I owe him a lot and a big part of me loves him still. So I didn’t want him to find out that I was seeing someone by literally walking in on a date.”

“Do you still love him?”

“Not like that. I haven’t loved him like that in a long time, but I don’t want to hurt him.” Her confession is earnest and she never breaks our gaze. Swallowing thickly, I let her confession settle before asking, “What do you want to do?”

Her gaze darts away from me and she hesitates.

“No more lies.” I lay down the one thing I really need from her. No more hiding shit from me. It’s driving me crazy. She’s driving me damn near insane.

Her words are tight and her doe eyes pleading for understanding. “There’s one more thing,” she practically whispers.

The daughter. I already know she’s got a kid. “Griffin told me you have a daughter.”

“What else did he tell you?”

“The father’s not in the picture, but