Page 71 of Legacy of Lies
Chapter 17
Garrison’s shitty Saturday tried to pulverize him into fine grit. To be fair, Friday hadn’t treated him any better. The only good thing about Friday was that it was over.
Like his future with Sara.
Pausing in his work to clear the remnants of the burnt barn, he leaned on his shovel. Her silky skin, her luscious curves, her taste like ...
Ah, hell.
His jeans had become too tight again.
Gritting his teeth, he adjusted his stance and looked around. Hopefully, Kerr and Eric hadn’t seen anything.
She’d made her rejection clear.
Hadn’t she?
The details of their conversation had blurred. All he recalled was waiting for her to betray him. Like Tiffani.
Only Sara hadn’t betrayed him, had she?
He cursed and flung a load of charred wood into the back of a trailer.
Damn it.
Shelby stormed out of the ranch house, carrying a tray of snacks and drinks. Shoving the supplies at Eric and Kerr, she came to a stop in front of Garrison. Uh-oh.
“You have got to stop.” She wheezed then poked him in the chest with a finger. Hard.
“What?”
Kerr whipped his head around to stare at Shelby. Then he grinned and relaxed on his shovel handle as he took a leisurely bite of sandwich.
“This.” She gestured wildly with her hands and shook her head, which only made her ruined curly hair fly out in all directions. “Whatever the heck is going on in your head over this woman, you have get a grip on yourself. I can’t take—” She glanced over her shoulder at Eric. “Uh, the stress.”
“Yeah, well quit invading my privacy.”
“Quit intruding on my sanity.” Waving her hand near her temple, she grimaced. “See? Right there. Stop that.”
Eric frowned. Spotting Shelby’s jaw-jutted glare, he half-turned away from them and studied the gray hillside as though he needed to memorize it for a test later. Smart man.
Shit piled on shit. Garrison had had it up to here with the whole mess. “What the hell do you want me to do, Shelby? I can’t control what I’m thinking.”
Poke, poke. “Well, you can sure as hell grovel and apologize for being a total jerk.”
If she poked him again, God help him, he’d break her finger, sister or not.
“Apologize to you?”
“No, idiot. Toher.”
“For what?
“Freakin’ pick something. Just get it fixed because I can’t handle any more of your depressed mooning.”
He puffed out his chest. “Well, I’m not the person who was wrong.”
“You are dumber than a sack of bricks.” She glared at Eric when he sputtered on his drink. “First of all ...”
