Chapter 3

3

T heo’s POV

My heart stutters as Isla turns that mega-watt smile on me. Her hair glows like molten lava in the evening light, her skin golden, sun-kissed freckles beckoning me. My body’s response to her annoys me to no end. She is the feistiest slip of a woman I’ve ever met. Watching her bend over repeatedly in those tiny little jean shorts and muck boots is not what I had envisioned when I stalked over here a few hours ago.

After that red-eye, I tell myself that I want to drink a beer, fill my belly, and go to sleep, but that's a gigantic goddamned lie, and I know it. The only thing I can think about is getting her to smile at me like that again. This move was supposed to be simple. Easy. A fucking walk in the park, for Christ's sake.

"Hey, Grumpy McGrumperson, are you coming?"

"What did you just call me?" She laughs, green eyes sparkling as she swings onto the tractor.

She pats the wheel well next to her. "Come on up. I'll park her in the barn and drive you back home."

I don’t want to be that close to her. She’s the exact kind of trouble I don’t need right now. Or ever. I tell myself the only reason I’m taking her up on her offer is because it’s almost dark, but I’m lying to myself. I grab hold and climb up, perching beside her like a goddamned parrot. She gazes up at me out of the corner of her eye, a grin pulling at the corner of those full lips.

"Drive," I snap, quickly turning my head away so she can't see the smile I can’t seem to hold back. Isla puts the tractor in gear, her hand so tiny on the shifter it's almost startling. It can't be safe for her to be out here alone like this. "Where's the barn?" I ask, noticing that we're driving away from the house.

"On the other side of the castle grounds."

"The other side? Does that mean the field is part of the grounds?"

She nods. "The Manor House, too."

"Wait a damn minute.” My mind races as I scramble to put the pieces together. “You own the castle, too?"

"Not just me—my brother, sister, and I each own a third."

"Then why the hell are you staying in that run-down shack? It looks like it could tumble off the cliff's edge at any moment."

Her shoulders stiffen. "It is not run down."

"Fine, why are you staying in the minuscule cottage instead of the castle?"

"Because my brother is a damn busybody, that's why. You're starting to remind me of him–sticking your nose places it doesn't belong."

I raise my hands in mock surrender. "Apologies. I didn't realize it was a sore subject."

She glares at me, her eyes dark in the dusky light. She pulls the tractor into the pitch-black barn like she’s been doing it since childhood. Hell, maybe she has. God knows she’s full of surprises. I jump to the ground, reaching my hand up to help her down, but she jumps off the other side and waits for me by the door instead.

"Come on," she says roughly, grabbing her jacket from a hay bale.

I follow her to her car, folding myself into the passenger seat with some difficulty. I look over at her as she gets in, amazed at how twilight has transformed her. Instead of a spicy ray of light, the night has turned her into a darkling sprite, complete with mahogany hair, leather, and the attitude of a honey badger. I hate to admit it–even to myself–but I'm enamored. I can't wait to see what she's like when it rains. When it snows. At sunrise. Hell, I’m starting to think every day of every season will never be enough.

Those thoughts fly out of my head as she peels away from the barn, her hair billowing around her head as she shifts through the gears. Gravity presses me back into my seat, and I hang on for dear life. Thirty seconds later, she cranks the wheel, and we skid to a stop in the Manor House driveway, perpendicular to the road. She carefully backs into the garage and turns off the car, hopping out before I can say anything. I slowly unclench my fists, my knuckles aching. She’s pulling her hair into a messy bun as I join her in the driveway, my knees trembling.

A glimmer of skin shows between her top and her shorts, and before I can stop myself, I'm toe-to-toe with her, breathing in the smell of her shampoo. She looks up at me, a doe in headlights. I jam my hands in my pockets to keep from wrapping them around her waist. Her tongue darts out to moisten her lips. Fuck me. I want to grab a handful of her hair and pull her mouth to mine. Find out what she tastes like.

"Fuck," I say under my breath, trying to rein myself in. Her pupils blow out at that one word, and I nearly lose control. I kiss her cheek, inhaling her as I slide my lips over her skin. "Goodnight, Sunflower," I whisper against her ear before turning around and heading to the house. I don't let myself look back.

I close the door behind me and sag against it. This was a mistake. Images flash on the back of my eyelids. The teasing smirk as I rode beside her on the tractor. The hard-ass that shrugged on her leather jacket and got behind the wheel of a vintage muscle car. The joy on her face as she whipped into the driveway and scared the ever-loving shit out of me. The surprise when I stepped close. The lust when I whispered that one word. Every expression, every laugh is burned into my mind forever. God, this is so fucking bad .

I stalk into the kitchen to find Henry at the stove and Dylan on his laptop. "We need to talk."

"What the hell took you so long?" Henry asks, slamming a spatula on the counter.

"It's a long story."

"Did you find out why she was so upset?" Dylan asks, worry lining his face.

Shit. "Not exactly."

"What the fuck, Theo? That's the whole reason you went. I knew Henry or I should have gone instead."

Henry turns toward me, anger hardening his mouth. "If you didn't find out why she was so upset, what exactly did you talk to her about?"

"I told her about us. Why we're here–"

Dylan cuts me off, "So you told her all about us and didn't think to ask her what the pub means to her? What we’re stealing from her?"

Fuck. “We’re not stealing anything. I'm sorry I'm not as good at this stuff as both of you." I rub the back of my neck, guilt creeping in. "We did come to a compromise, though."

"One she's happy with?" Henry asks, raising an eyebrow in disbelief.

"I think so. Isla will help us at the pub while we get everything figured out, and we'll help her renovate a building. She's had trouble finding contractors, so it works out for all of us."

The guys perk up, and I'm almost positive it's because they'll get to spend more time with her. It pisses me off. "I know I can't tell either of you what to do, but you shouldn't get involved with her. Remember what happened last time."

Dylan's only response is to slam his laptop shut and head upstairs. Henry motions for me to sit at the table and then places a skillet with a delicious-looking frittata in the middle. He grabs two plates and portions it out. "Asking us not to get involved with her is asking a lot, Theo. Dylan is already infatuated with her. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about her since that night at the pub months ago. Maybe coming here was a horrible idea. "

"Maybe so, but there's no going back now."

Henry sits across from me, raking his hand through his hair. “I know what happened with Katie has stuck with you, but it's in the past for us. We're all adults. We can handle ourselves.” He shoves a bite of food into his mouth, his gaze on his plate.

"Fucking hell. You’re both completely whipped, aren’t you?"

Henry studies me, smirking. "She got under your skin tonight, didn't she?"

"You don't even understand," I groan, grabbing a beer from the fridge and taking a long drag.

"Then tell me."

I shake my head. I'm not ready to share. "Maybe tomorrow," I mumble, taking my plate to the sink. "Thanks for the food. See you in the morning." I take the stairs two at a time, not daring to look back at him. Scared of what he'll see in my eyes. I vow that I’ll stay away from her as much as possible. Katie is still a barely healed scar across my heart, and there’s no way I’ll let another woman rip the three of us apart again.

I have difficulty falling asleep that night, but when I finally do, I dream of fiery hair and a freckled nose.