Page 28 of Fight for Me
“What would I have to lie about?” She catches the misstep.
I speak quickly to cover it up. “Nothing, I’m just saying that I wouldn’t ask you to keep things from him.”
“Where are you?” She changes topics.
One would think she’s a lawyer with how well she’s managing this conversation. “Am I under interrogation?”
“Should you be?”
“I’m thinking that you missed your calling to become a lawyer.”
Ellie laughs. “I deal with teenagers lying about homework, their study habits, not texting during class, and God only knows what else, so ... yeah, I’m good at the sidestep bullshit. Now, out with it.”
I don’t want to lie to Ellie. I also know that I can’t tell her this. There are secrets that we can expect people to keep and those we can’t. My asking her not to tell her husband and brother-in-law about my pregnancy is the latter.
“There’s nothing wrong, Ells. I did call for a reason, though. I was hoping we could have dinner or lunch soon?”
I hear the resignation in her sigh. She knows I’m not going to tell her whatever is going on. “Of course.”
“Good. How about tomorrow?”
“Your place or mine?”
There’s not a chance in hell I’m going to her place. “Mine.”
She laughs. “I figured.”
At my place, I won’t run into a dark-haired, green-eyed man who either pisses me off or ends up getting me naked.
Avoidance is the only option.
* * *
I pull up my drive, feeling lost.
I’m not sure how I feel about that. This is my home. The place where my roots are planted and I should be secure—and now I don’t. The ground has shifted, leaving me unsteady. Sierra’s suggestion that I leave Sugarloaf hangs heavy on my mind.
Since she said it, I can’t stop wondering if she’s right. The timing might be right now.
This baby forced me to think about what it is that has kept me here. My mother left, and this was her family’s farm. My sister left and didn’t think twice about it. So, why am I fighting so hard to hold on?
Once I’m out of the car, I wrap my arms around my middle, pulling the sweater tighter, and make my way toward the back barn. It isn’t cold, but I feel chilled to my marrow.
“Syd,” Declan calls out from behind me, forcing me to stop.
It’s becoming really hard to avoid the man when he keeps showing up.
I turn. “You know, this is the opposite of staying away, right?”
His lips turn to a smirk that I have always loved. He has the best facial expressions. I’ve seen them all, memorized them, brought them back to the forefront when something reminded me of him.
This one was always my favorite. It said so much with the quirk of his lip and the devilish gleam in his eyes about how he knew the mischief he was causing was irritating, but had to do it anyway. His face always gave him away—at least to me.
“I wanted to clarify what happened the other night.”
“I think you said everything, Dec.”
He moves closer, and I steel myself. If he touches me, my resolve may break, so I remember his words. The way he said them without any room for confusion. He doesn’t want a wife or a baby or anything that would tie him to another person.
