Grinder (Seattle Sharks Book 1) by Samantha Whiskey Read Free Book Online Page A

day?” she asked, changing the subject as the keurig hissed to life.
    “Bailey—”
    “No,” she said with a firm shake of her head. Her brown mass of hair tumbled with the movement.
    Tension clung to the moment, tightening my chest in a way I’d almost forgotten. How long had it been since I’d really cared what a woman had thought? Felt? I waited, fighting my basic need to spin her around and demand she talk to me.
    Finally, she turned, holding her mug close to her face and looking up at me from under long, thick lashes that framed incredible eyes. “Look. I don’t want to talk about it,” she said quietly, her eyes darting to where Lettie sat.
    “I don’t see how that’s an option.”
    She shrugged. “Pretty easy. We agree to never speak of it. Kind of like Fight Club.”
    A corner of my mouth tilted into a smile. “Isn’t another rule of Fight Club no shirts? ”
    Her cheeks flushed and I nearly kicked myself. “Right, well, that won’t be a problem.”
    “It’s just that with Lettie—”
    She put her fingers over my lips to silence me and it took every ounce of self-control I had not to suck the digits into my mouth just to see how her skin tasted. “No, you don’t need to explain. I was in the wrong, and it won’t happen again.”
    She slowly lowered her hand from my mouth.
    My forehead puckered. Never? Wait, wasn’t that what I wanted? I couldn’t kiss her, touch her, taste her like I wanted. Not when there was Lettie to think of. What if shit went south and I lost my nanny? Lettie lost her best friend?
    “I think it merits a discussion,” I said my voice above the whisper we had been using.
    “Well, I don’t!” she snapped then winced, her free hand flying to her temple. “Ugh. What was I thinking?”
    “That you deserve a chance to let loose every once in awhile.”
    “Yeah, well, I don’t see you letting loose with the tequila.”
    “I have other vices.”
    She snorted, the sound oddly endearing. “Yeah, I know all about those.”
    “Yeah, you’ve had a front row seat, which is why—”
    “Just stop,” she pled. The sadness in her eyes halted me like nothing else could have.
    “Bailey.”
    “No. It was humiliating enough without you having to rehash the whole incident. Could you please drop it and let me keep whatever’s left of my dignity intact?”
    I swallowed past the lump in my throat and let her walk away. My eyes followed her as she crossed the living room to cuddle up on the couch with my daughter. The Sound of Music started playing, and I knew they were in for a movie-morning.
    I needed to run this off.
    Hard.
    “Hey, I’m going for a run, is that okay?” I asked.
    Bailey raised her hand and waved me off. For fuck’s sake, she wouldn’t even look at me anymore. I tied my running shoes and was out the door in record time, the fall morning crisp and cool despite the forecasted rain later.
    My feet pounded against the pavement as I wove through our neighborhood, trying anything to get Bailey off my mind. I finished the first mile and kept going, my frustration fueling me to nearly super-human speed.
    Damn it, we’d lived in the same house less than a week and we’d already crossed the one line I was adamant we couldn’t. It didn’t matter that she was gorgeous, that her hazel eyes drew me in and kept me, or that my dick rose to the occasion whenever she walked into the room.
    None of that mattered.
    Bailey was friend-zoned, damn it, and not just because of our Moms. No, in all honesty, they were the least of my concerns. Bailey needed to stay on the other side of the friendship line because of Letti—because as long as I kept my dick in my pants and away from Bailey, maybe she’d stay.
    Women left. It was just a fact of life, and while I could survive another blow, I knew Letti couldn’t. Helen walking out had crushed her, even though she hadn’t understood at the time. She’d only been two. She didn’t know how to process that her “mother” had