Page 23 of That One Night
He shrugged. “I don’t have time to think about being lonely.”
“But this is what you want? Your own farm?”
“Yeah.” He nodded. “I like working outside. Being in charge of my own time.” He took another mouthful of beer, noticing she’d almost finished hers. “Anyway, it’s hard to get lonely when you’re related to half the town.”
She nodded, frowning like she was taking his words in. “Is it nice having a big family?”
“Sometimes.” He smiled softly. “It was fun growing up, being surrounded by my brothers and cousins.”
“And now?”
“It’s good, as long as they’re not poking their noses where they aren’t wanted.” He loved them all fiercely. But yeah, they could be nosey assholes when they wanted to be. “Are you lonely?” he asked her, more because he didn’t want to talk about himself than actually being interested in her answer.
She ran the tip of her tongue over her bottom lip. It was fuller than her top lip. Shaped like a perfect bow. “I’m an only child. Nearly everybody I went to school with has moved away. It’s strange,” she told him. “My mom has more friends here than I do.”
“What about your fiancé? Won’t he be coming to visit?” His jaw tightened at the thought of that ass. “Or are you going back home soon?”
“I’m staying for the summer,” she told him. “Getting the farm ready to sell. And no, Trenton won’t be coming here. He’s busy.” Weird how she didn’t seem to sound like she cared a whole lot about that.
And what guy was too busy to spend time with the woman he was marrying? That was messed up. But it also wasn’t his business. If Montclair wanted to neglect his fiancée, that washisproblem.
“How about you?” she asked him. “Do you have a girlfriend?” Her words were a little slower. Like the beer was having more of an effect on her than it should.
“Nope.” His reply came out in a long two syllables.
Their gazes locked and it sent a jolt through him. He could see the interest in her eyes. The same kind of curiosity he saw in his cousins and brothers every time they wanted to know every damn detail of his life.
Hendrix Hartson. Family fuck up. Always entertaining.
“Can I have another beer?” she asked him. “Actually, do you have anything stronger? Maybe whiskey?”
He wanted to laugh. “No, I don’t have whiskey.” And if he did, he wouldn’t give it to her. She was so obviously a lightweight. “One more beer. That’s it. Then I’m cutting you off.”
It took him a minute to grab two more bottles, getting rid of the old ones in the recycling bin. This time when he came back out, she was on her phone, tapping on the screen as Frank lay at her feet.
“Everything okay?” he asked, handing her the bottle.
“Everything’s good.” She took a sip, a smaller one this time. “Have you ever stayed up all night talking to somebody?”
He started to laugh. “Where did that come from? And no, I’ve never stayed up all night talking. I like my sleep too much. And I can’t be exhausted and work with farm equipment.”
She nodded. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.” She took another mouthful, then let out a sigh. “Damn stupid list.”
“What was that?”
“Nothing.” She smiled a little hazily at him. And for the first time he noticed she wasn’t wearing her engagement ring. Her eyes caught his, and he pulled his gaze away quickly.
But not before something passed between them.
Something that felt suspiciously like trouble.
Woo hoo at getting another item ticked off. So did you ask him about staying up talking all night? – Maisie
I tried. But he made it obvious it was a no go. I’m not sure why I’m doing this stupid list, anyway. – Emery
Because you know it’s good for you. And you love me. And I need entertainment when I’m on the sleeper train to Vienna and the people in the next bunk are singing football songs. Maybe you should try number seven with him. – Maisie.
Shut up. And go to sleep. I’ve already ticked two off the list. That’s one a week on average. I’m killing this thing. – Emery
