Page 34 of Marry Me, Maybe?
It was heartbreak. Raw and old and still bleeding.
Matty hadn’t just liked me.
He’d loved me.
Fully. Stupidly. Recklessly.
And I’d crushed that love under my boots like it meant nothing… without even giving him the decency of an explanation. Because what good was one? An excuse didn’t change the fact that I’d fucked someone else because I’d felt confused and scared after sleeping with Matty for the first time. Me, a man who’d never bottomed before, becoming undone by a younger, cocky guy who had his fingers, his tongue, and his dick up my ass. I’d been prepared to like it, but Matty had made me question everything I knew about my sexuality.
I’d self-sabotaged us. He’d been a victim of my need to derail my own life every time I found a modicum of happiness. Like I didn’t deserve to have a good life.
The rasping stopped.
“You’re awfully quiet today,” Gray said, his voice gravelly but not unkind. “You sick or poutin’ like my boy’s been doing lately?”
Matty had been pouting? He was more like quiet-raging.
I gave a dry chuckle that didn’t quite sound believable. “Got a lot on my mind. I have my hands full with Ivy.”
Thankfully, Ozzie had solved half of my worries by offering to mind Ivy while I worked the ranch. I’d been worried about Ivy adjusting, but it turned out Ozzie was a real natural with her. She took to Ozzie quickly, and I could see why. Ozzie was so kind and gentle. A shame about the way he and Gray started their relationship that had thewhole town gossiping because they were perfect for each other.
Gray stood slowly, brushing dirt from his jeans. His knees cracked on the way up. He stretched his back with a low groan, then looked at me with that weathered, eagle-sharp gaze of his.
“At least you don’t have to raise two boys who are always trying to kill each other. I swear, from the time they could walk, Carter and Matty treated the house like a damn gladiator pit. One time, Carter duct-taped Matty to a skateboard and shoved him down the stairs to see if he could fly.”
I barked out a surprised laugh. The Matty today—I couldn’t imagine him as a kid. So guarded. So sharp-edged. But the Matty I’d met back then? The one impulsive enough to ask me out, even though I was six years older? That Matty had been all heart and heat and reckless trust. “Jesus.”
“Another time, Matty tried to ‘baptize’ Carter in the cattle trough after watching some show about exorcisms. Said he had to get the devil outta him. Damn near drowned his brother.”
I shook my head, grinning. “And you didn’t strangle them?”
“Oh, I tried,” Gray said dryly. “Half my gray hairs are named after those two.”
“My house is a lot quieter, but Ivy’s got her ways of keeping me on edge. Last week, she painted my toenails hot pink. Said it made me look ‘bootiful.’ Would’ve been fine if I hadn’t forgotten and worn flip-flops to the feed store.”
Gray snorted. “Oh, you poor bastard.”
“And then yesterday, she told me I snore like a dragon and fart like a cow. I don’t even know where she gets that stuff.”
“She’s a funny little one.” Gray shook his head in mocksolemnity. “Ozzie loves taking care of her. Gives him something to do so I don’t feel too guilty about all the time I spend on the ranch. Just such a shame about her mother.”
Yes, a shame Heather left. But was it? She still had me blocked, so I couldn’t reach her. I’d stopped calling. What was the sense when she seemed to want a clean break? With just me and Ivy, there were no arguments. I didn’t have to worry if she was keeping her promise of not having men around the house when Ivy was there.
I focused on the hoof in front of me and the faint scent of manure and hay. On Ivy’s laugh when she spun in the kitchen. On her tiny hands and that bubblegum polish.
That was real. That was mine.
And it had to be enough.
I gave a slow nod, then crouched again, shifting my focus back to Whiskey’s back hoof.
We worked in silence for another few minutes, the clink of metal tools and horse breath filling the air. Dust floated lazily in the sunlight. I watched Gray’s hands, steady, calloused, worn from years of this life. A part of me wanted to ask how he stayed so damn grounded.
“I heard Lawson’s looking for a hand,” I said softly.
The rasp froze midmotion.
“That so?”
