Knotted by Pam Godwin

Author:Pam Godwin [Godwin, Pam]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2018-05-01T04:00:00+00:00

Gutted and rebuilt from floor to ceiling, the Cassidy wing is no more. As I roam through the new master bedroom, turning in a circle and taking it all in, my lungs release a thousand pounds of tension.

Every trace of Dalton is gone, his room replaced with a suite three times the size. There are no painful reminders of the father I lost. Nothing to taint the rugged sophistication and grandeur of the space.

“You did this?” I glance at the imposing shadow at my side.

“A couple of years ago.” Jake rests his fingertips in his front pockets, his dark brown eyes fixed on me. “The wing sat empty for four years. Dad didn’t say shit when I started tearing down walls.”

“Wow.”

The wow factor is the vast openness of it. The bedrooms that belonged to Lorne and me became part of the new suite, the walls removed between the rooms to maximize the square footage.

A buttery leather couch and stacked-stone fireplace sit where my bed used to be. The en-suite bathroom was completely renovated and enlarged, taking up part of Lorne’s old room. A massive bed fit for an overbearing cattle rancher dominates everything around it.

Heavy furniture, stone accents, rawhide finishes, and a rustic cast iron chandelier—it’s a man cave on a triple dose of steroids. Unpolished yet elegant, it’s sexy and virile and oh so Jake.

The ambiance embodies his roughhewn sex appeal, the very air infused with his intoxicating scent of leather and testosterone. But the intricately painted mural on the far wall makes me question who exactly he designed this room for.

Black horses gallop across a rural landscape streaked with every color of the Oklahoma sunset. It’s a swirly, light-filled illustration in an impressionist style. Like the paintings I used to collect.

Like the tattoos on my arms.

I step toward it and caress a hand along the brush strokes. “Why did you add this?”

“I missed you.”

I glance back and find him staring at me. Our eyes connect, and he draws his bottom lip between his teeth. The subtle movement is so disarming my body inflames with tingly hot flashes.

“Thank you for this.” He holds out his arm and cups a hand around the leather cuff, staring at it with possessiveness and affection.

“I don’t understand you.” I pace along a bay of windows. “You lied to me about Ketchup. Fucked Sara Gilly before you broke up with me. And you’re thanking me for a stupid bracelet?”

He flinches, and the cords in his neck go taut. “I didn’t fuck her. Didn’t so much as kiss her.”

I whirl on him, hating the flutter in my chest. “You’re lying like a no-legged dog. I saw you. You were…were…buck ass naked!”

“I never removed my boxers. You saw what you wanted to see.”

“I didn’t want to see any of it.” My mind swims, and my heart pounds. “I don’t believe you, and I sure as hell don’t trust you. So you can stand there, looking all”—gorgeous, seductive, irresistibly fuckable—“aggravating, chewing on your lip and wearing that bracelet.

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