Page 55 of Every Promise Broken

“You’re home,” a voice, that very much doesnotbelong to Nana, says, startling me.

Head lifting, my gaze darts over to Conrad, where he’s standing in the entryway to the kitchen. He’s in the same clothes he was wearing earlier when he stopped by my clinic, but unlike before, there’s no hat atop his head, and he’s barefoot.

“I didn’t think you were home,” I murmur. “Where’s your truck?”

“Nana borrowed it,” he says, spinning on his heel, heading back into the kitchen. “I told you I was making your favorite. Would you like a glass of wine?”

He remembered that it’s my favorite.

Swallowing thickly, I nod. “Sure, thank you.” I follow after him. “Borrowed it to go where?”

“You’re never going to believe it.” Conrad grabs a glass out of the cabinet, throwing me a look over his shoulder. “She went to have dinner with Roger.”

“Shut up.” I chuckle. “Like, a date?”

Conrad huffs a laugh. “Fuck if I know. Sure sounded like a date.”

Pulling out a chair at the counter, I sit down just as he slides a newly filled glass of wine and a plate piled high over to me. After he grabs himself a beer out of the fridge, he takes the seat beside me with his own plate. I bring the glass up to my lips, letting the sweet liquid invade my senses as I take a drink. I needed this.

“Do you know if she’s been with anybody since your grandfather?” I ask, setting the wine on the counter and glancing over at him. The steak and pasta smells so good, my mouth waters as I lay the napkin on my lap and pick up my fork. I can’t help the groan that comes out of me as I take the first bite. “Holy shit, Conrad, this is so good.

Turning my head, I find him watching me with his lip quirked. Heat races through my body at having his eyes on me like that. “Thanks,” he murmurs before adding, “And I have no clue.”

I snort. “You know nothing about that woman, I swear to God.”

“Why would I talk to my nana about her dating life?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” I muse. “Maybe to see how she’s doing, find out if she’s lonely, or I don’t know, Conrad, maybe to just make simple conversation with your only living relative.”

“Okay, okay.” He chuckles before taking a drink from his beer. “No need to lecture me. And for the record, you’re right. I need to be better about keeping in touch with her.”

My heart thuds as I replay what he said. His agreeance is surprising, and I don’t quite know how it makes me feel.

“Did you two have a blast shopping this afternoon?” I ask, changing the subject.

Conrad grumbles, and I can’t help but laugh. “That woman knows how to spend money, let me fucking tell you.”

“Did you buy anything?” I ask, but already know the answer. It’s confirmed when he turns his head and looks at me like I’ve lost my mind.

“No, I did not buy anything,” he grunts. “There was nothing for me in those shops. It was a bunch of useless junk that nobody needs.”

For as long as I’ve known Conrad, he’s been so painfully cheap. He’ll wear his boots until they’ve damn near got holes in them. Same with his jeans. It’s always been a whole production to get him to spend any amount of money on anything other than necessities for the ranch. I know it’s just all he’s ever known.

Ranching isn’t exactly known for all the money it makes. He was raised to be frugal, which I can respect about him. Conrad may be many things, but irresponsible, he is not. He has a strong, smart head on his shoulders, and running this ranch successfully is all he’s ever known. It’s in his blood.

As we eat, the conversation flows easily, and it feels… nice. Like I can almost pretend that no time has passed. Before the death of his parents, we used to eat together like this every night.

“Looks like it finally started to snow,” he murmurs as we finish up, tipping his chin toward the kitchen window while taking our empty plates to the sink.

“How long has Nana been gone?” I ask, before finishing off the wine in my glass. The real question I want to ask, but can’t put a voice to, is,how long are we going to be alone tonight?

“She left not long before you got home.” Conrad stands and stretches his arms over his head. I hate the way my eyes automatically drop to where his shirt lifts, showing off the dark, fuzzy happy trail he has leading underneath his jeans. Clearing my throat, I stand too, wanting to pour myself another glass. “I’m going to start a fire.”

“Okay. I’m going to get another drink,” I murmur awkwardly.

Stopping in the entryway, Conrad looks over at me. “When you’re finished, can we talk?”

Shit.“Uh, yeah. Sure.”

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