No, it’s better not to put any ideas in her head at all. We have to be careful. The smartest thing would be to end things now before they go any further, but I’m feeling really fucking selfish because I don’t want to. And it’s not just about sex. If it were just about sex, I would’ve taken Itsy up on her offer last night when, in truth, I wasn’t even tempted. I like talking to Itsy. We have the kind of honesty and connection I’d look for in a relationship, but Stella’s the one I want in my bed. And the more time I spend with her, the more I think I’d like her out of it too—in my arms, in my home, in my life.
But I’m not sure what that would look like for us. Not that it matters. Stella’s not looking for more, and I’m not ready, either.
“Mommy!” Hope hops off her stool and runs across the kitchen, and I turn just as Amy sweeps Hope off the ground. What’s she doing here? And why is it okay for her to roll into my house without knocking when she just gave me shit for doing the same at her house?
“Your hands are messy,” Amy says, her eyes bright and smiling.
Hope giggles. “Me and Stella are making slime.”
Amy’s smile falls away as her gaze meets Stella’s at the kitchen table.
“Wanna see?” Hope asks.
“Sure, baby.” She carefully puts Hope down and follows her. She nods politely at each variety of slime, giving appropriate oohs and aahs when necessary, but her worried gaze keeps flicking back to Stella.
My ex-wife hates Stella Jacob. Hell, half the incriminating shit I know about Stella came from Amy. Stella worked as a receptionist at Amy’s investment firm for a couple of years. Amy was never at a loss for stories featuring an irresponsible, unreliable, dishonest Stella. It made me really uncomfortable, hearing over and over again what Amy thought of her, and judging by the look on Amy’s face right now, I’m about to hear more of it.
“Why don’t you go get cleaned up so I can talk to Daddy alone for a minute?” Amy asks when Hope’s done showing off her slime.
“Okay!” Hope grabs Stella’s hand and leads her out of her chair. “Come with me, Stella. I’ll show you my birthday list.”
“Clean up first,” Amy says.
“I’ll show you after we clean up,” Hope adds.
Stella looks back and forth between me, Amy, and Hope. “Actually, kiddo, I should get going. I need to study, but you can show me your list next time I’m over.”
Amy’s eyes go wide, then she turns her glare on me. “Next time?”
Stella rolls her shoulders back, and I have to resist the urge to pull her into my arms and tell her to ignore Amy’s . . . what is this? Jealousy?
“Hope,” I say, “what do you say to Stella?”
“Thank you for making slime with me today,” Hope says. “I’m so happy you’re going to live in the pool house!”
Amy flinches, but somehow manages to bite her tongue until Stella’s out the door and Hope’s upstairs washing her hands. Even then, all she gives me is a whisper. “I can’t believe this is happening.”
I sigh. “What brings you over, Amy?”
She folds her arms, and her eyes are full of indignant rage as they meet mine. “Stella brings me over. What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
I arch a brow and lean back against the counter. She’s ready to fight, but I’m not in the mood. “You’ll have to be more specific.”
“I was talking to Dean just now, and he mentioned you’ve all been busting your asses to remodel that pool house for Princess Party Girl. Really, Kace? You’re moving another woman in with my daughter and didn’t even think to consult me about it?”
“I’m not moving anyone in with Hope.” I was going to talk to her about it next time we had a minute alone, but I haven’t been real keen on spending time together since Wednesday’s awkwardness. “Stella’s going to rent out the pool house, which, as you’ve noticed, is an entirely separate structure.”
“Are you fucking her?”
She didn’t. I straighten, glad now more than ever that we sent Hope upstairs. “Excuse me?”
“You know she’s been trying to get in your pants for years. She doesn’t even try to hide it. When you move a slut into your backyard—”
“Don’t call her that.”
“—I have to wonder if it’s because you’re fucking her. Is driving across town too much of an inconvenience?”
“Enough.” My jaw aches from clenching it. “You need to leave.”
“And now you’re picking her over me.”
“I’m telling you to leave because you’re throwing around insults about my friend.” I lead the way to the door, and after a few steps, I hear Amy behind me.
“You know her history, Kace. She isn’t a good person. Sex is a tool to her, and if she’s fucking you, she wants something out of it.” She snorts. “Probably a place to live, so it looks like you’ve already been played.”