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Me: Oh, she sounds wonderful.
Riggs: She’s a pain-in-my-ass smart-mouth who is apparently trying to steal my dogs.
Me: I think she’s awesome. But for real, let me have them.
Riggs: No. Train your fool of a dog.
Me: Stop calling Darcy a fool before you and I fight, good sir.
He writes something, the bubbles appearing before they disappear. That happens three times before he finally writes me back.
Riggs: Did you eat lunch?
I bring in my brows. I offered to fight so I could touch him.
Hopefully naked.
But he shot me down. He’s very hot-and-cold, this guy.
Me: I did, and I shared my steak bites with the boys. They are currently lying on me as everyone else plays.
I send a photo of the boys lying on me, and of course, there is a streak at the bottom of the picture where Darcy is running like…a fool. But he’s my fool, damn it.
Riggs: You’re going to make them fat.
Me: Oh, for sure.
Riggs: Though I see nothing can calm down Darcy.
Me: Nope, he’s a free spirit.
Riggs: Like his mother.
I beam at that, doing a little wiggle that’s totally childish, but man, he makes me feel things I like. I didn’t get the chance to flirt when I was a teenager. I hid a lot and kept my head down, so I know that’s why I enjoy flirting so much now that I can live my life the way I want. The last guy I dated flirted all the time, but he was a dud in bed. Lots of talk but nothing to back it up. Then I had a guy who didn’t want anything but sex, and boy, was he a good time, but he was so boring.
I know this is my crush talking, but I suspect that if Riggs let go, he could be the best of both worlds.
And I want him to let go.
Riggs: I have dinner in the freezer for you. Just four little meals that I thought you’d enjoy.
My lips curve up.
Me: You know you paid me, right? You don’t have to make me food.
Riggs: I am well aware, and I wanted to. I want you to have what you need.
Well, catch the hint. I needyou.
I giggle, not having the balls to type that. I can’t ignore how my chest warms at his words, though. For such a grumpy pants, he sure is thoughtful.
Me: Thank you.
I wait for his response, but he doesn’t give me one, and it only confuses me more. I lean into Gretzky and nuzzle my nose in his neck. “Your daddy is a puzzle I’m going to figure out.”
Gretzky doesn’t seem to care and continues snoring. I can’t help but think of Elliot’s warning, and I don’t want to believe it. I want to think she and Alex are wrong. That Riggs would be different with me, but that’s exactly what they’re telling me. He won’t, and that sours my good mood. I want to know what happened to him. I want to know why his marriage ended and why he is so against being with anyone. I want to know if he even wants me. Or if I am totally making all this up in my head.
Like the overanalyzing person I am, I go through every interaction I’ve had with Riggs as I gather up the dogs and drive everyone home. I can’t make heads or tails of how I think he feels. Usually, I can read a guy pretty well. My whole life, I observed those around me, and I’m proud of my people skills, but Riggs is definitely different. Men usually think with their cocks and they either want me or don’t, but Riggs isn’t a young buck led by his cock. He’s a man—with restraint and control.
