Page 34 of Unstable

I OPEN THE DOOR, wearing my annoyance like a badge of honor. “What?”

“Good evening to you too, Darlin’. I’m fine, thanks for asking.” He grins.

“What are you doing here, Keaton?”

“Just thought I’d come around to say hi, check on ya.”

“You are such a shit liar. I know exactly why you’re here, you came to interrogate me about Gatlin.” I purse my lips and narrow my eyes, daring him to deny it.

“Um, actually, I didn’t.”

“Uh huh,” I roll my eyes and open the door wider. “Well you’re in luck, he’s here for dinner. So come on in and meet him, since I know you’re not gonna let up until you do.”

“He’s here now? For dinner?” He doesn’t exactly ask…more like hisses out the words again just to confirm he heard me right, his eyes holding a flame that makes my skin feel hot and itchy.

“That’s what I said. He worked hard today. I fed him. Not that I have to explain myself to you. So,” I cock a sassy hip, loving the discomforted aggravation emanating off him, “want to meet him or not?”

He dips his head, rumbling lowly in my ear. “Oh, that’s a fuck yes, Hen. Country Kitchen?”

I nod, suddenly unable to speak, body strung tight from his hot determination against my sensitive flesh.

He starts to tromp that way and I somehow pull myself together, darting in front of him. Gatlin stands as soon as we enter, his back bowed and chest out just like Keaton’s.

Oh, brother.

“Gatlin Holt, this is Keaton Cash, owns the farm next to mine and kinda an old family…friend. Keaton, this is Gatlin, my farmhand,” I rush out the introductions in a nervous, high-pitched voice, watching both of them for any sudden movements.

Gatlin is the first to step forward, extending a hand with a “Nice to meet you,” but Keaton just stands there, not reciprocating.

I elbow him in the ribs, hard, and scold him out the side of my mouth and under my breath. “Don’t be a dick. Shake his hand.”

Keaton turns his head and stares at me like I’m asking him to give the guy a hug and kiss on the cheek, a muscle visibly ticking in his jaw.

Okay, got to fix this because the testosterone in the room is suffocating. “Why don’t you two sit and get to know each other and I’ll bring you a drink Keaton? And I have dessert. Anyone?”

“Please.” Gatlin smiles at me.

Keaton says nothing so I ask again. “Keaton? Drink? Dessert?”

“Oh, um, yeah. Thanks,” he mutters, not looking at me.

“By the way,” I add, just inside the doorway, “Gatlin explained about the horses, they were cared for, so no need to go over that, Keaton.” I warn him, then scurry to get something to occupy their mouths, lest they really should start to talk to each other.

I hurry to pour a glass of tea and serve up two plates of the cobbler I’d unthawed, balancing it all carefully as I rush back in to join them. But Keaton’s already on his feet.

“Leaving so soon?” I ask, caught between shocked and relieved.

“Yeah, I need to be going. It was, um, nice meeting you, Gatlin.” He tips the brim of his hat. “Hen, will you walk me out?”

“Nice meeting you too,” Gatlin replies.

I set everything down and follow Keaton to the door. But he doesn’t say goodbye there, taking my hand and pulling me all the way outside, shutting the door behind us.

“So, this Gatlin guy, he was here waiting when you got back?” he asks me, his voice solemn.

“Yes, why?”

“And he’s good to you, helps you out? Never makes you feel uncomfortable?” He rubs his thumb across the knuckles of my hand that he’s still gently holding.

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