Page 37 of Love and Loathing
He’d come by? She shook her head, clearing it. Stay on topic. “You lied to me, Alex. Lied right to my face. You told me—Charlie told me that you were building eight houses. Eight.”
He stepped over the disaster they’d made and moved toward her. “That was the plan.”
She moved back again and put her hands up in a warding gesture. “Don’t.”
He huffed but stopped moving toward her. “But Steve and Kevin came back and told us they wouldn’t invest if we didn’t do it their way. We tried to talk them out of it, but they’ve decided it’s too good of a deal to pass up. They’re going ahead with it whether we like it or not. But just for the record, we don’t.”
She chewed her lip and thought about it. “Okay, well, can you stop them?” A moment ago, she’d been so sure he’d lied to her, but she believed him. It made much more sense to her that he and Charlie had been taken too, and it eased that tightness in her chest just a little.
“I don’t know.” He frowned and shook his head. “No, I don’t think so. They have the money to buy the land, and they will. There’s lots of money in their project.”
“You’re a freaking movie star. You’re telling me you don’t have the money?” She hated the way that had sounded. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she knew he shouldn’t be made to buy all that property just because he was famous and theoretically could—but she was beyond reason right now.
“I tried—I wanted to, but no, I don’t havethatkind of money.” He reached up and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. When had he gotten so close? And why did he have to smell so darn good? Her hair! Her hands flew to her hair. It probably looked ten times worse now after getting stuck under the tablecloth. She tried to smooth it down.
He grinned at her and cupped her cheek. Oh no. He wasn’t getting off so easy. She slapped his hand away and darted around her mother’s couch.
He rested his hands on the plastic cover and it crinkled, making him glance down. “Is this plastic?” His thick brow furrowed.
“Yes,” she said, grabbing a pillow—they weren’t covered in plastic. “You have a problem with that?”
He lifted his hands from the plastic, and it stuck to them for a second before snapping back. Then he narrowed his gaze at her. “What’s with the attitude, Jessie?”
“Just returning the favor!” She chucked the pillow at him. He barely caught it before it hit him in the face.
He lowered it, a hint of amusement in his wry expression. “Did you just throw a pillow at me?”
“At least I didn’t punch you in the face like you did Jacob!” she yelled.
He dropped the pillow. “I don’t feel bad about that. I’d do it again.” He folded his arms. “He was vulgar, and I put him in his place.”
She saw red. “I want to kiss you in your face,” she seethed, then froze. Wait, what did she say?
He quirked a brow. “What?”
She sucked in a harried gasp. “I mean punch you! I want to punch you.” Her stomach felt like it was on a barrel roll down a hill.
He smirked.
“You brute!” She grabbed another pillow and chucked it.
He ducked out of the way, and she grabbed another pillow. He lifted a hand. “You throw that, and I’m coming over there.”
She stepped back. “You wouldn’t dare.”
That annoying grin of his just wouldn’t go away. “Wouldn’t I?”
She hesitated.
He smiled outright. “In fact, throw it. Please.”
Tingles ran down her spine, and she dropped the pillow like it was on fire. She did not want him over here. He laughed, his eyes lighting with mirth, and her anger surged. “It’s not just the land and the houses, and you know that. What about what you’ve done to Jacob?”
His countenance changed in the blink of an eye—all amusement faded, and his eyes shadowed over with something she’d never seen in them before. Hate. When he spoke, his voice was low and cold. “What do you mean, what I’ve done to Jacob?”
“Lately or altogether?” She was egging him on, and she knew it. She knew it wouldn’t help, but it’d just popped out.
“Jessie,” he said, his tone all warning.
