Page 167 of Holiday Hire

How could she get so pissed at me about Cheyenne when he was still contacting her and she never even told me?

Neither of us speaks the entire way home. I drive past the ranch.

Phoebe questions, "Where are we going?"

"Away from everyone," I say, turning down a dirt road.

I go into the field we stopped at the night of Christmas trivia, park the truck, and turn off the engine. I sit back, taking deep breaths, staring out the window.

She breaks the silence, asking, "Are you going to say anything?"

I slowly turn to look at her. "Why didn't you tell me he was calling you?"

"Why would I tell you?" she questions.

"Why?You want to make a big stink about Cheyenne and then you keep that from me?" I spout.

Her eyes narrow. "What was the point? I wasn't taking his calls. I told him it was over. Why would I tell you when I assumed I'd never see him again?"

"You should have told me."

"Why, so you could get angry like you are right now?"

I don't reply, staring at her, wanting to reach out and kiss her, but I'm too mad. I can't let it go.

"Why exactly are you mad at me? Is it because my ex-boyfriend's calling me or because something's still happening with you and Cheyenne, and it's your way of covering your guilt?"

I sarcastically laugh. "You've got to be kidding me."

"It's a fair question. You're acting like a lunatic when I've done nothing wrong," she asserts.

"A lunatic? Because I beat up your boyfriend for being a douchebag?"

She glares harder at me. "He's not my boyfriend."

"Yeah? Then don't make accusations about Cheyenne and me when you know damn well the only person I'm into is you."

She glares daggers at me. "That goes both ways, Alexander. Nothing is going on between Lance and me either. So why am I supposed to believe you, but you don't have to believe me?"

I blurt out, "I didn't say I didn't believe you."

She scoffs. "You just accused me of still being with him."

I try to take deep breaths, but the capacity in my lungs seems to have shrunk. The air turns stale. She's right, but I'm also a proud man. So I hurl out, "I told you to watch the boys."

Her eyes widen, then her cheeks turn red. She points at me. "Don't even act like you're upset because I'm not watching the boys right now."

"I am. I told you to watch the boys. You weren't supposed to be in town."

She huffs. "Why? So I couldn't see you create a bloody mess in a bar with my ex-boyfriend's face?"

My heart beats faster. I grip the wheel so tight my knuckles turn white. I question, "Why does that bother you so much?"

"I'm not a big proponent of violence," she declares.

All the stress makes me chuckle until my eyes water.

"Why are you laughing?"

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