Those Heartless Boys - E. M. Moore Page 0,72

in the cards for me. At my worst moments, I pictured myself as an old lady in my father’s house, living in the walls he built up with no one.

I snap myself out of it. Lucas isn’t offering a forever here. He’s just offering more fun. “I’d like that, too.”

Stone strides out into the living room with different clothes on. “If you’re done making heart eyes at each other, we have more important things to discuss than you getting your dick wet.”

I glare at him, and he matches me stare for stare as he takes a seat on the couch across from us. “Save it, Jacobs,” Lucas purrs.

Something’s gotten wedged up Stone’s ass though. He leans forward with his elbows on his knees, “Your house was a pigsty.”

My stomach rolls. “Oh, sorry it offended you, your highness. Not all of us can afford a goddamn maid. All we had was your mother, and she was shit at it.”

Stone charges to his feet. “Leave her out of this.” He clenches his fists, his nostrils flaring. In the next moment, he regains control of himself like the outburst never happened. The man has more self-control than anyone I’ve ever met. He straightens his shoulders. “It’s bad enough she was living in that filth.”

Lucas sighs next to me.

“Maybe you should take that as a lesson learned. There’s more to being a man than just having money. Your dad has all of it that he’ll ever need, and your mom still left him for my dad.”

Stone laughs. It’s maniacal, nothing like the cultured laughs I’ve heard spill from his mouth before. “You’re still under the mistaken impression that she wanted to be there.” His blue-gray eyes twinkle with delight. “It was all a ruse, Dakota. She hated being there,” he growls out. “And most of all, she hated your father.”

I suck in a breath as air gets sucked from my lungs. The truth of what he’s just said is in his cold, heartless eyes. Marilyn marrying my father was some sort of ploy? A sham?

My insides twist with second-hand pain for my father. He was always so happy when he looked at her. To think someone could’ve played him so badly makes me want to vomit. I stand on shaky legs. “You’re despicable, Stone Jacobs. Stay away from me.”

21

I stride from the room. My body thrums with hatred for him and everything he stands for.

So, that’s what his problem was at my dad’s house. The reason he couldn’t stand to be in there. Marilyn.

Behind me, Lucas sighs. “You know we’re never going to be able to get shit done unless you two can learn to be in the same fucking room as each other without acting like children,” he growls at Stone.

In front of me, Wyatt turns the corner in nothing but a pair of sweatpants and his cowboy hat. His chiseled torso is backdropped by the setting sun behind him, leaving him in a haze of oranges and pinks. The whole scene is dreamlike. If only he had a pair of low-slung jeans, it’d be the perfect picture. A cowboy out on the ranch, performing his evening duties so the rest of the house could sleep.

Dear God, my imagination just takes me away sometimes, doesn’t it?

Before I can slip past him in the hall, he places his arm out, barricading my exit. His blue eyes hold heat. “Where are you going? I thought we were talking.”

I turn to face him, and he searches my face for clues. Whatever he sees there makes his brows pinch together. Back in the living room, harsh whispers are thrown back and forth. I smile without feeling, which I’m pretty sure makes me a psychopath. I can’t help it if Stone brings out the worst in me. “Your douchey friend strikes again.”

He flicks his gaze toward the living room then back at me. “Yeah well, he’s our douche.” He lowers his voice and leans down. I take a step back, but he follows me. We do this awkward dance until my back hits the wall and he’s caged me in with the brim of his hat just barely skimming my forehead. He reaches up to pet my hair. There’s no other word to describe what he’s doing. He watches as his fingers skirt over my curls then returns his attention to me. “The line between love and hate is painted with ill intentions.”

“Did you read that out of a Cracker Jack box?”

He smirks, shaking his head as he

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