The Slow Burn (Moonlight and Motor Oil #2) - Kristen Ashley Page 0,52
I liked even more on his handsome face.
“Thanks for the groceries too.”
“Warning, that’s the first, it won’t be the last.”
I stiffened.
“To—”
He turned into me so we were front to front, slid his other arm around me and tipped that beard even farther to put his face in mine.
“No. Just no, Addie. We’re not gonna start this and fight about that. We’re not gonna be in this, and still fight about that. You’re gonna get your feet under you. We both know that. It’s not always gonna be bad for you financially. But I’m loaded. You know I am. I’ll probably always have more than you in that way. And you have to get over it and do it right now. It is what it is. I’m not gonna give my money to charity so we can be on an even playing field. I’m gonna use it how I wanna use it and you’re gonna let me. The end.”
Not the end.
“Can you see it from my perspective?” I asked.
“No, because it isn’t that way. If I was in your spot, I would hope I’d be a big enough man I wouldn’t let something like that get in the way of me having something more important. Maybe something will happen so one day we know. Though I hope not, and not because I don’t want you to be comfortable, but because I kind of like being well-off and not having to worry about money. But for now, this is how it is and where you gotta be is trying to see it from my perspective. If I can, and I want to, why would you not let me do for you what I can because doing it makes me happy?”
He had a point.
And it was a good one.
And if it was the other way around, I’d want to buy him groceries (and other) to leach out the stress and make life smoother.
“Just don’t buy me any yachts,” I replied and got his grin and a squeeze of his arms.
“We’re landlocked, baby. Not sure how a big yacht would fare on Shanty Hollow Lake.”
I stayed where I was in his arms, my arms around him, which made my wineglass too far away, but I liked where I was, so I left it where it was, but I looked to the house.
“And just to say, I’m spoilin’ the shit outta Brooks for Christmas,” he carried on, making me turn my head back to him. “And I’m doin’ the same for you. It’d help out a lot if you gave me your list for Santa.”
Okay, I’d given in on the other.
But this was pushing it.
To communicate that, I snapped, “Are you kidding me?”
“Not even a little bit,” he replied.
“You do know that if I get something for you, which I wasn’t going to because I couldn’t, but I can now, it’d be using your money to buy something for you.”
“I don’t need anything.”
“Precisely the point!” I cried.
“Adeline,” he growled.
And I straightened in his arms because that wasn’t a turned-on growl.
That was a WARNING!-Toby’s-getting-seriously-ticked growl.
He went on doing it. “My mother left when I was three.”
Uh-oh.
I’d taken him to a bad place.
I knew all about his mom. He hadn’t told me, Iz had.
But I knew all about that stupid woman.
Damn.
“Tobe,” I whispered.
“My first living memory is sitting on my ass in our living room, watching my father sob the day she took off.”
I pushed close and kept whispering. “Honey.”
“You know the reason Iz is it for Johnny?” he asked.
“She’s beautiful. She’s adorable. She makes breakfast with a canary on her shoulder like a Disney princess.”
This was all true.
Even the canary.
“That and she’s gonna stick.”
I stared at him in the golden glow of the setting sun and the golden-red glow of vintage Christmas lights.
“Don’t think for one second my father didn’t spend thousands trying to find my mother after she split,” he shared. “And don’t think for a fuckin’ second he wouldn’t have given up everything to have her back. She didn’t just leave him. She left him and their two sons. You know what being a single parent means and you know that in two ways. Once, I didn’t give to Brooks what he deserved, and you lost your mind, justifiably. Not having a father who gave a shit, you get what your boy lost because he doesn’t have a father who gives a shit. How much do you think it’s worth it to have a woman in my life I know, if she falls for