Page 30 of Lead Me Knot

Shrugging, I keep my eyes in the distance across the cornfield. The stalks aren’t tall enough to block my view of the property just yet. “Things change. People do. I’m thirty-three. Having someone around more often isn’t the worst idea.” I don’t even know what I’m saying, but I might need a shovel to dig myself out of my hole if I keep talking.

“Long distance isn’t having someone around more often. It’s making the effort to see them. Who is she?”

“No one, Tagger. I was asking. That’s it. No motive behind it.” The truth. I like Lauralee, but that’s it. I’m not moving back to the Pass to be with her like he did for my sister.

He stops and crosses his arms over his chest. Staring at me, he studies my eyes for the lies, then looks out over my shoulder. “There’s not a lot of options here. I’m assuming you’re not hooking up with Mrs. Smith now that she’s widowed.”

“She’s eighty-three, fucker.”

He chuckles. “That only leaves Maple Thornton down at the feed store and Lauralee. Since I know neither of them would give you the time of day, my guess is you’re seeingsome girl from Dover County you met at Whiskey’s.” Lowering his arms, he adds, “Am I right?”

I’m not sure how I feel about him assuming that about Maple or Lauralee. Maple hits on me anytime I walk into the store. So I’m not sure where he’s getting his information, but I’m the one who won’t hook up with her. I’m more curious about why he included Lauralee. What does he know that I don’t? “Why wouldn’t they give me the time of day?”

“Because they know you.”

Still confused, I shake my head. “And?”

He rolls his eyes as he starts back toward the house. “You think Lauralee would hook up with you when she knows your dating history? Or should we call it your dating present?”

“I don’t think you know her as well as you think you do.”

I’m shoved to the side under another loud laugh. “And I don’t think you know her at all. Look, she never claimed to be innocent, but she has her standards.”

“Geez, thanks, friend.” I’m not actually mad. He’s right about her and me, but that doesn’t change the fact that I’ve just spent the past two nights with her. So her standards must not be as high as he thinks . . . wait . . .Fuck. Did she lower her standards to sleep with me? Was it a pity fuck?

No. Not possible. She wouldn’t do that, and everyone knows I don’t need anyone to pity me. I don’t like this conversation.

“I was no better. Nothing is tying you down, so no judgment over how you spend your time, but Lauralee is . . .” He seems to search the sky for a reply.

I try for disinterested, but I’m hanging on his unfinished sentence by a thread, ready to shout to get it out of him. “Lauralee is what?”

When he stops, his eyes fix on mine, a stare that hardens without a threat behind it. “I don’t even know if Lauralee likes you, so I’m fairly certain she wouldn’t sleep with you.”

“Fairly is not a no.”

“Sure, I can leave a little wiggle room to be wrong, but she’s out of your league, brother.”

“Want to bet?” What am I saying? I’m so fucking competitive that I’m challenging him over something I won’t be able to prove without sharing the details.No way.

“I’ll take that bet.”

“What do you mean you’ll take the bet?”

“You threw down a bet, and I’ll take it. No way will Lauralee Knot sleep with you.”

This would do nothing but muddy the situation. Lauralee and I agreed not just to keep this on the downlow but neither of us had any interest in pursuing things. That’s why her reaction wasn’t what I expected. I gave her the space she seemed to need to sort through what was on her mind. It felt like the wrong decision at the time and in my gut now. But she still didn’t show up today for the meal, making it known how she feels. So our secret is safe.Why risk it?“What kind of nonsense is this?”

“You act like it’s the first time we’ve made a bet over a woman.” When we reach the corner post, we stop and look toward the house he built down the hill. “Dahlia Stouffer, sophomore year in college. Rita Manning, first year at the investment firm.”

This time, I shove him to the side. “Okay, what-the fuck-ever. I get the point, but this is different.”

“How so?”

I look at him like he’s grown a third head. “This was college and New York shit we pulled. This is different.”

“Because you know her?”

“Yeah, exactly that. And when I come home, I don’t want to have a mess to clean up or need to avoid Peaches’ Sundries when I visit.”

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