Page 48 of The Billionaire Land Baron

When he picked her up in front of the diner ten minutes later, he still had the set in his jaw he’d had that morning. Why had it taken Shelby so long to realize how she held him close while pushing him away? The thought of her own selfishness, even if she hadn’t fully been aware of it, made her want to vomit. Matt deserved someone far better.

“Where you off to?”

“My house. Then the McClure’s.”

Matt jerked his head to look at her. “Shelby—”

She held up a hand. “Matt, don’t.”

He closed his mouth again, his jaw working, and just drove. Ten minutes later they pulled up to her house. “Be right back,” she said. Inside she kissed the top of her daddy’s head and put on her best bathing suit with a tank top and shorts over top.

When she came back to the truck, she handed Matt a bottle of water. “What’s this for?” he asked.

“Don’t have any beer. Thought you could use a drink,” she said. If she had beer, she would have brought it. He might need something to take the edge off. But water was it. There wasn’t a way to sugarcoat what needed to be said. Didn’t stop her from taking a few minutes to try and plan out something that didn’t sound so awful or cliché.

As they got closer to the McClure’s, clear on the other side of town near some other large farms and mansions, Matt seemed to grow more agitated.

“Shelby, I’m sorry but I have to say something. Why are you doing this? I can’t think of any good reasons for you to be going there right now, but a few bad ones.”

“Yeah? You know what’s good for me?” The anger in her voice was, she knew, because she was angry at herself, not because she was angry at him. But it worked, given the situation.

He gave her a quick, hard look as he turned down the McClure’s long drive leading to the enormous white-columned plantation that might have looked more at home in Georgia or Alabama. Ostentatious was too nice a word for their house and Shelby wanted to sneer at it some more, but she had other plans to focus on.

“Shelby, what is going on with you?”

“Something that should have gone on a long time ago. Matt, I’m breaking up with you.”

“We’re not together, Shelby! You made sure I knew that. Many times.” He was yelling now.

“Maybe we aren’t officially together, but for too long you’ve been at my beck and call.”

“You’re complaining now that I’ll come pick you up at the drop of a hat? Like this very moment? Come on, Shelby.”

This wasn’t going well. She should be apologetic, not angry. But maybe anger would be the thing that would push him away like he needed. He had to stop seeing her as someone who needed saving and to see her as who she really was: someone willing to use the feelings of a good friend to help her out when she needed. She accepted help from no one else but Matt. This, too, was a revelation.

“Yeah, that’s what I mean. I can’t let you keep helping me. I can’t keep asking. I’m letting you go, Matt. For real this time.”

“I’ve done nothing but be there for you,” he said.

“And that’s the problem. You can’t anymore. You need to let me go and move on. I’m not yours and I won’t ever be.”

He sucked in a breath and stopped the truck in front of the mansion next to the two cement lion statues that stood on either side of the paved walkway. Shelby’s gut twisted and for a moment she stared at those lions, hard, willing her tears back into her eyeballs. What she said was just plain mean. True, but mean. To the person who had maybe been the nicest to her in the world.

Shelby opened the car door and then turned to look at Matt. Her heart broke just a little as she did. He stared at his knuckles on the wheel of the car.

“I’m sorry, Matt. I should have done this a long time ago and I’m sorry I didn’t. I was the jerk. You deserve better and I hope you get it. Thank you again. For everything.”

Shelby did not wait for him to look at her, but slammed the door of his truck and marched to the door of the McClure’s house, hoping like heck that Rhett wasn’t the one who answered the door.

Jake realized very quickly justhow foolish he’d been to promise Shelby that Daisy wouldn’t get her claws in him. From the time he stepped out onto the back deck by the pool, he hadn’t been able to escape her hands. Unlike Shelby’s touch, which he welcomed, Daisy’s advances felt like a predator hooking into her prey. Her overt sex appeal made Daisy Duke look like a school marm. And her slippery charm would have sent any Gatsby into a tailspin.

Daisy giggled and grabbed his arm again, squeezing his bicep and brushing her body against him. He was sitting on the edge of the pool, sipping some kind of fruity rum punch. Mayor McClure had insisted he try it when one of the servants brought out a drink tray. The mayor watched Jake from a chair in the shade under a fan, smoking a cigar and grinning. He seemed amused by Daisy’s advances. Which was all kinds of messed up and awkward.

This was not the schmoozing Jake had planned to do. He was even worse at getting Daisy off him than he was sweet-talk. Jake set down the drink and pushed off into the pool. He kicked across and all the way down to the bottom of the deep end. He could hold his breath for a while and knew Daisy wasn’t a strong enough swimmer to follow. The bathing suit she wore, made seemingly of pocket squares and dental floss, wouldn’t stay put if she tried to swim an actual stroke, so he hoped she didn’t.

Jake paused on the bottom for a moment, watching her legs so he could know where to come up for air. He found that despite Daisy’s long, toned legs, he had other legs on his mind. Shorter, more muscular and attached to someone he really wished was here beside him.

Expelling a last breath, he kicked to the surface and grabbed the diving board, pulling himself up to sit.

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