“Ree?”
She let the blade fall before she looked at Gavin. “Yeah?”
“Is it safe to approach?”
“Why wouldn’t it be?”
“Because you’re in a bad mood and wielding an ax?”
She offered a sad smile. “Point taken.”
Gavin moved in closer. “You and Rory had words.”
“Did the little snot say something nasty to you?”
“No. But she shoveled the walkway. And swept a path to the garage and the barn.” He gestured to the pile of chopped wood. “Like mother, like daughter. Literally working off a mad.”
“More productive than drinking,” she said lightly.
Gavin framed her face in his hands. “Do you want to talk?”
“That’s the thing, Gavin. I don’t want to talk about my kid or yours.”
“Just what I was hoping to hear.” He tugged her hat off and pushed his fingers through her damp hair.
“I probably smell like sweat.”
“I don’t care.” His thumbs stroked her cheekbones. “I watched you out here. So strong and determined. You’re beautiful and it’s bizarre that seeing you whack the shit out of stuff turns me on.”
Rielle laughed.
Gavin fastened his mouth to hers; the kiss was sweet and steady—like a first kiss. Maybe it was the first time he’d kissed her with such exquisite tenderness. He’d shown her passion. Playfulness. Lust. He’d flirted and teased. But this soft and slow meeting of tongues showed her another side to him and another side to herself. She accepted that he could comfort her, he could offer his support and it didn’t make her weak or needy for wanting it.
Rory watched her mom from the upstairs window. Kissing Gavin. But it was more than that. Just by their body language she saw that her mom trusted him.
Before her mother had stormed off this morning, Rory had tried to get her to recognize that she was making the same mistake she had at age sixteen, falling for the first guy who paid attention to her.
Her mother’s inexperience with men scared her. This wasn’t a casual situation with Gavin. They lived in the same house. Of course the temptation would be there, but Gavin Daniels didn’t seem like her mom’s type.
Had she ever thought about the type of man her mother would be attracted to?
No. She’d spent her life seeing her mother as…sexless. Selfless. More an earth goddess than a sex goddess.
But the way Gavin had kissed her mom—her mom!—yesterday afternoon had caused her jaw to drop. Not only the passion between them, but the familiarity. Rory realized she didn’t know that part of her mother at all.
And when she’d demanded an explanation, she hadn’t gotten one. Which again, wasn’t how her mom usually acted. She couldn’t believe her mother hadn’t told her about one of the biggest changes in her life…well, ever.
Rory knew she was being a brat. Maybe it wasn’t Gavin specifically that she had a problem with. Maybe she was bugged by the idea of her mom being with any guy—and that was stupid and childish and she didn’t know what the f**k was wrong with her. She was just so…mad.
“I’m pretty sure the fiery looks of hatred you’re sending my dad won’t start his hair on fire from up here,” Sierra said from behind her.
“You’re a f**king laugh riot a minute.”
“You’re still pissed off about this?”
“Yep.” Especially after Sierra told her she’d accidentally seen them making out weeks ago.
“Come on. Can’t you at least admit they look happy?”
Rory didn’t answer.
“Or don’t you want your mom to be happy?”
“Of course I do.”
“Doesn’t seem like it.”
“Why? Because I’m not teary-eyed that she’s making out with your dad in the clearing while snow falls around them?”
Sierra snorted. “No. Because you picked a fight with her first thing this morning.”
Rory turned around, startled that Sierra nearly looked her in the eye—few women were her height. “No, I tried to have a discussion with her. But she won’t talk to me about this, when we talk about everything else.”
“You talk about everything with her?” Sierra asked skeptically.
“Yes. Why?”
“Because I call bullshit on that.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “In fact, I know it’s bullshit.”
“How?” Rory folded her arms over her chest, her posture equally argumentative.
“I was there last night, remember? Listening to your drunken rant.”
Ah f**k. Goddamn Jaegermeister.
Sierra wore a smug look. “Rielle doesn’t know what happened between you and Dalton, does she?”
Rory felt her cheeks heat up. “That’s different.”
“How? Did you tell your mom how many guys you’ve slept with in college? Or their names? Or whether you went into the date expecting it’d be the start of a relationship and not just a one-night stand?”
She opened her mouth. Closed it. How the hell was Sierra so freakin’ observant? She was a spoiled sixteen-year-old kid.
“You can talk to your mom about a lot of things, Rory. But you draw a line with her.”
“So?”
“So why are you so pissed off that she’s doing the same thing with you? Do you really want explicit details about what sex is like between her and my dad?”
“Eww. No!”
“Then what is your f**king problem?”
“My f**king problem is him,” she lied, embarrassed to tell her the real issue. “He’s going to hurt her.”
Sierra rolled her eyes. “Assume much? And don’t give me that crap about him being a—” she made quotes in the air around the word, “—McKay.”
“He is what he is.”
“You’d think you were a West with the big chip you’ve got on your shoulder about the McKays.”
Rory’s eyes turned shrewd. “Maybe there’s validity in the Wests’ point of view. Seems the McKays screw everyone over.”
“The point is, you assume that my dad will screw your mom over. But you know what? I’ve never thought for a single second that your mom might be a gold digger.”
“Why would you even say that?”
“Because my dad has money. Your mom doesn’t. Maybe she seduced him.”
This girl was on some serious crack. “That’s bullshit. My mom is not like that.”