Hott and Handled (The Hott Brothers #3) - Leah Sharelle Page 0,14

through her was the only thing that gave me the strength to pull back from her.

“I may be an arsehole sometimes Farron, a little bullish and a lot stubborn, but what I am not is your ex fuckwit. He didn’t see what he had for nine years, and I saw it the second I walked into your restaurant for the first time and noticed you behind the counter.” Forcing some distance between us, I stepped back one step then another. My heart nearly breaking when her eyes filled with the sheen of tears.

Fuck, I wanted to hold her and whisper all the things she deserved to hear. Tell her how beautiful she is and promise her the world. But I didn’t, not yet. There was only one thing I could give her for now.

“See you tomorrow baby, think of me tonight when you are in bed. And while you are at it, know that one day you will never have to make yourself come again because that will be my job. And trust me sweetheart, it will be my fucking pleasure to do it.”

Walking back to the truck, I avoided turning back to look at her until I heard her call out my name.

“Won’t you be in tonight for dinner?” she asked me in a small but hopeful voice.

“Aren’t I always sweetheart?” Giving her a wink, I waited for a smile, it wasn’t big or even a happy one, but it was there and that was all I needed to know she would come around.

I was going to make sure of that.

FARRON

“Mum, you have washed that plate already. You will rub the pattern off soon,” Dillion complained, standing beside me at the kitchen sink.

Since Nixx took off calmly as you please after my embarrassing spew of words two hours ago, I had been in a daze. Everything that happened outside and at the farm played on a reel in my head. Over and over, I tried to remember not just every word he said to me, but what his eyes looked like as he stared so intently at me, how his mouth thinned when he was trying to control himself. And how his amazing blue eyes blazed at me with hunger when I yelled that I had never had an orgasm during sex.

“Oh god, why did I say that?” I muttered, dropping my chin to my chest.

“Say what? You haven’t said two words since I got home,” Dillion replied, thinking that I was talking to him, and why wouldn’t he think that considering he was the only other one in the room.

“Sorry kiddo, I was thinking out loud,” I apologised, hoping that he would be appeased and leave it alone. However, my son didn’t work that way, he had a sixth sense when it came to me.

“Righto, now enough with the bull crap. What is going on?”

“Dillion! Language!”

“Mum! Explain!” he yelled back, his brown eyes so much like mine shone with mirth and mischief. Dillion liked to swear, but he knew I didn’t like him doing it because his father had such a potty mouth. So instead, my son played the play on word game with me. Funny, I didn’t like the way Alec swore like a trooper, but Nixx’s didn’t worry me. Every second word with him was fuck, or some creative expletive to describe something or someone. Remembering the matter of fact way he called Alec a fuckwit, brought a giggle to escape from my lips.

“Mum?”

Looking at my son, I resisted the urge to reach out and ruffle his long messy hair. He was overdue for a haircut, but with my hours at night in the restaurant and all his activities after school, there wasn’t enough time to scratch myself, let alone find a half hour to sit in a salon. Dillion didn’t like to sit idle; the boy was a human hurricane, he didn’t have a pause or a go-slow gear. The only time he was still was homework time and sleeping.

“Um, do you remember the guy that is putting the big tip in the tip jar at the restaurant?” I asked him nervously.

“Sure, I sat at the bar and waited to see who was doing it, remember?”

“Yes, yes you did. Do you know who he is, I mean what family he is from?”

“Isn’t he a Hott? Mark said he is Fenixx, he is a triplet.”

“Yep, that’s him. I, ah, I went to his farm today to pick up the ovens after leaving them there last night