…
Willow gaped at him, those ridiculous black glasses she wore somehow making her look cuter. She pressed her full, luscious lips together then opened them again, though not a sound came out.
Look at that. He’d just rendered her silent. A miracle he needed to note with the date and time because he never thought he’d see the likes of Willow Cavanaugh at a loss for words. She’d given him an unending rash of shit since they came back into each other’s lives a few months ago.
When they weren’t lip-locked, that is. Kissing Willow was his only guarantee he could shut her up.
He’d been following Willow Cavanaugh around for what felt like fuckin’ forever, though it had only been a few months. Chasing after her like a dog with his tongue hanging out, tripping over it every time she gave him the finger, both literally and figuratively. Plenty of that sort of rejection had been going down since the moment he set eyes on her again, after they’d done everything to avoid each other for the past six years.
“W-what are you talking about, your appointment with me? We d-didn’t have an appointment,” she stuttered. That smooth, glossy composure he caught a glimpse of when he stepped into the room was gone—shattered by his presence. And damn if he didn’t love that.
“The building you’re interested in. I own it.” He held his hand out as if he wanted to shake hers. Really, he wanted to take that slender hand with the perfectly polished pink nails in his and yank her to him. Whisper in her ear all the dirty, wicked things he wanted to do to her. With her.
That first sight of Willow after having her absent from his life had nearly knocked the wind clean out of him. He’d gone to some local festival thing with Jared, shocked all to hell to see Willow Cavanaugh in the flesh, working a catering booth. She owned the business, she’d told him.
With her rich-as-hell bastard of a father, she could have anything she wanted, but she was running her own catering business. Talk about a surprise. The Willow he remembered had no problem playing the spoiled rich girl role.
She’d looked different. More…grown up. Besides the obviously gorgeous curves that were more defined and made his hands itch to explore, there was that woman’s face. Skeptical, with narrow dark brown eyes and an expression that said she’d seen it all and wasn’t impressed.
Damn if that expression didn’t make him want to work his hardest to wrap her around his little finger. She’d been so easy the first time; hell, so had he. They’d fallen foolishly in love—yes, he wasn’t afraid to say the word love, damn it. She’d been the one for him.
Then Walter Cavanaugh had come to him and warned Nick to stay the fuck out of his daughter’s life. Insulted him up one side and down the other, insisting his daughter was too good for the likes of some no good dumbass football-playing hick from Texas.
Thinking about that little speech Walter gave him all those years ago still hurt like hell. His chest ached with the memory.
He still remembered that first moment he came to Monterey for his rookie season of summer training camp. The area was nothing like the dusty little town he’d grown up in, smack dab in the middle of Texas.
He’d been in awe of the pretty little thing he first caught sight of hanging around the football field, with those long, tanned legs, long, dark hair and a smile that she flashed special just for him.
Well, he’d tossed that right in the can, hadn’t he?
An idea had bloomed in his mind a few days ago when he’d discovered he owned the very building she wanted to lease for her growing business. She wanted it real bad, too. For whatever reason, word on the street was Ms. Independent refused to take any money from her father to help with her business. She’d been such a daddy’s girl back in the day, this surprised Nick. But no, she was looking for a reasonable business space to lease, and she was having a hell of a time finding it, especially since she wanted to move her business into a specific area of town.
Nick had invested in a few properties in the Monterey Bay. He happened to own a shopping center in that area—with the space she was interested in. Very interested in, though she would die if she knew he was the owner. And wouldn’t that just eat at her daddy’s soul if he knew Nick Hamilton was his daughter’s landlord?
But damn it, he truly believed Willow was worth the aggravation. Which meant Nick had a fight on his hands. He loved a fight. Lived for the damn fight. Look at what he did for a living. Went to war against another team over a stupid ball. Fighting was in his blood. Miss Sa
ssy and Gorgeous-as-hell Willow Cavanaugh did not scare him.
Well. She might scare him a little bit.
“You’re lying. How do you know about my interest in the building?” she asked after clearing her throat.
“Considering I’m the owner like I just said, I know exactly who’s interested in leasing my building.” He settled into the seat next to hers, barely able to restrain the laugh that wanted to escape when she scooted her chair away from him. It was almost entertaining, the lengths she took to keep a certain amount of distance between them.
“Please. I don’t know how you found out about this, but quit trying to trick me. I’m rattled enough. I don’t need you here trying to shake me up further,” she said.
Interesting. So he shook her up, huh? And here she seemed cool, calm, and collected every time he came around. Well, sorta. He’d shaken her up a few times. Always when he touched her, laid a big kiss on her that left her in a near stumbling state. She usually composed herself quickly, though. She was damn good at that.
He had no idea he’d been blowing her ever-lovin’ mind these last few months. This sort of information could only help, not hinder, his plan.
“I’m not playing any sort of trick on you, Will,” he murmured, leaning in so only she could hear him. He inhaled her sweet-like-candy scent and let his gaze wander over the length of her elegant neck. Her long, silky dark hair was pulled back into a neat ponytail, and he had the sudden urge to grab hold of it, jerk her head back, and kiss her until they were both stupid with wanting each other.
She’d probably nail him in the nuts and leave him writhing on the floor if he so much as touched her.
He was so lost in his thoughts of how he could actually get his hands on Willow, he didn’t notice her penetrating stare until it was too late. Moving away from her, he slowly shook his head. “It’s not what you think.”
“You own the building.” She didn’t phrase it as a question. “You. You’re the mystery owner.”