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When he felt her body drop, he plunged his tongue deep into her channel. A moan of bliss left him when her cum coated his taste buds. He could stay here for days, just pleasuring her with his mouth in an attempt to make up for the damage Shaw had done today and before.

He couldn’t erase Shaw’s words from her memory…but he planned to find his fellow Boot Knocker and bring him here to the bungalow. Sloane deserved an apology.

* * * * *

No amount of physical labor could vent the anger Shaw felt. The rage wasn’t directed at Sloane. It wasn’t even aimed at Dylan.

He was furious with himself.

He gripped the shovel handle hard enough to snap it. Each thrust he made into the rocky earth wasn’t nearly punishing enough. The point of the shovel struck a rock. He located the edge of the stone and used all of his strength to pry it out of the ground.

A huge stone came free with a pop. He glared at it as if the minerals had formed thousands of years ago just to piss him off.

Then he dropped the shovel and hefted the rock into his hands. He held the weight for a moment, gauging how big it was. He’d held his daughter a few times before walking out of her life forever. The stone was heavier than Marigold.

Christ, he was such a dick.

Chest burning, he hurled the stone to the ground and grabbed the shovel again.

“What’d that rock ever do to you?” The deep drawl made every muscle in Shaw’s body freeze.

Ramming the shovel into the earth, he pivoted his head to look at Dylan.

Poison burned on his tongue. “Where’s your client?”

“Having a nice massage.” He squared up to Shaw. “We need to talk.”

Shaw’s instinct was to rush away and ignore what was coming at him. What he deserved.

But he knew from his hockey days to have the guts to hold his ground. “I knew we would have this talk sooner or later.”

Dylan opened his mouth. At that moment, the sound of giggling carried on the breeze. They both glanced toward the path in time to see Beatie with a redhead wearing wire-framed glasses strolling toward them.

Shaw twitched his head to the side, indicating Dylan needed to follow him.

Wordlessly, they crossed the field to the barn.

“You never did say what you were digging.” Dylan entered after Shaw.

“You never asked. New fence going in.”

“That’s what the post hole digger’s for.”

Shaw didn’t respond.

Dylan cocked a brow. “You were beating up your body on purpose.”

His chest tightened. Still, he didn’t speak.

Hooking his thumb in the front pocket of his jeans, Dylan eyed him. “Look, what you said to Sloane was wrong.”

“I know,” he said before his throat could close. “I fucked up. I didn’t know how I’d feel when I saw her face-to-face. But I sure as hell hoped I wouldn’t find her naked in your arms, you son of a bitch.”

His brow hitched higher. “I’m her Boot Knocker. She’s supposed to be naked in my arms. And in my bed. In the hot tub. Up against the—”

“Enough!” When he whirled and sank his fist into the nearest wall, the thunder of the blow rang clear to the rafters. Something clattered to the floor.

Both of them looked down to see the purple twelve-inch dildo at their feet.