Page 55 of Blame It On Midnight

“You’re not convincing me.” His sister got up. She pulled over another chair and pointed to it. “Sit. Talk.”

He thought up a couple of excuses he could use to leave, but then reluctantly, crossed the porch and sank onto the faded brown rocker. Scarlett, like is other sister Vivian, wasn’t one to lie down gently. If she wanted him to talk, he was going to talk.

“This thing looks older than dirt, but it’s sturdy.”

“Don’t do that,” Scarlett said.

“What?”

“Deflect.”

Benton sighed and sat back. “I might have started up something with someone and I’m not sure I should have.”

“I heard.” Scarlett bit her bottom lip and reached for a bag of chips. She crunched on a few then handed it to him. “You’re hot and heavy with Collins Lafferty.”

“Christ, does everyone know?”

She nodded. “Pretty much.”

“Do you think she’s too young for me?”

Scarlett tugged the bag back from him and grabbed another handful. “Is that what this is? You’re hung up on the age thing?”

He shrugged. Didn’t answer. But then he didn’t have to. Scarlett was like a dog after a bone.

“Look, Collins is like, twenty-eight or?—”

“Five.”

“Huh?” Scarlett swallowed a mouthful of chips.

“She’s twenty-five.”

“Oh.” She stopped chewing for all of two seconds, then started up again, before swallowing. “So she’s like fifteen years younger than you.”

“You’re terrible at math.” He smiled for the first time. “I’m not forty yet.”

“Right. So she’s twelve years younger than you, or something like that.” She frowned again. “No, thirteen.”

Hearing it out loud made him wince. He looked away, kept his focus on the paint colt that ran circles in the corral a few hundred feet away.

“Here’s the thing, Bent. I know it sounds cliche, but age is just a number. When I was twenty-five, I was a naïve girl who let a man manipulate me. I wasn’t old enough,” she touched her chest, “inside, where it counts, to deal with a man like him. He nearly broke me.”

“He didn’t because you’re a Bridgestone and you’re strong.”

“My point is that Collins is different. I don’t know her well, but we’ve chatted briefly, and she’s a lot more cosmopolitan than I ever was. She’s the kind of girl who’s years ahead of her peers because of the life she’s been born into. On top of that, she’s an old soul.” Scarlett chuckled. “She’d have to be, to leave Paris or Italy behind and stay in Montana because she caught feelings for a man like you.”

“Man like me?” Should he be annoyed?

His sister nodded. “Settled with a child.”

Scarlett’s expression changed. It was subtle, but enough of a change to make him wish he’d never brought up a damn thing.

“What are your feelings?” She cleared her throat. “You know, about Collins.”

“God,” he groaned and stared up at the gray slats that formed the porch roof. “Do we need to talk about this?”

“You’re sitting on my porch, bud. My porch. My rules.” She handed him the chip bag. “I think we need to.”

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