Page 27 of Sin With Me
I lift my shoulder because it’s more complicated than that.
“You should tell her before it’s too late.”
As if it’s that easy.
“I’ll try,” I admit.
“See y’all at supper tonight,” she says, waving at us while she walks out of the barn.
Every Sunday night, my siblings and I go to our parents’ house for dinner. Everyone has busy schedules between their families and working on the ranch, so we use this time to catch up.
My grandmother and younger cousin, Mallory, also live with my parents, which means when everyone’s there—including my siblings’ partners and kids—it’s jam-packed. Mom sets up two large tables between the kitchen and dining room, but we still step on each other’s feet with how crammed it is.
Gramma Grace loves to bake and cook with Mom, so they put on a whole feast. Afterward, they bring out scrapbooking supplies and everyone works on a few pages while they eat dessert.
Since Waylon and I have evening chores at the retreat barn, I don’t usually stay after dinner, but at least once a month I try to stick around because it makes Mom happy.
Once my half of the stalls are mucked and water buckets refilled, I take my lunch break. Trail ride tours are usually at ten in the morning and four in the afternoon, but once it cools down, we only do them once per day at two.
I don’t mind doing them twice a day during the summer since the trees provide shade throughout the trails, but during the winter, we have to bundle up to avoid freezing our asses.
But that means less work and more time to get shit done.
“Something goin’ on between you and Delilah?” Waylon asks when I pull out my keys and walk toward my truck.
“Like what?” I play dumb because he doesn’t need to know. I’ve gone this long without telling him about our past, it’s easier at this point if the truth never comes out.
“I dunno. You tell me,” he says, following me outside. “She’s never slept over before, has she?”
I spin on my boots, facing him, and he nearly collides into me. “Not that it’s any of your business, but no. And I slept on the couch, so you can stop lettin’ your imagination run wild.”
He shrugs, then folds his arms over his chest. “Alright, just checkin’.”
“Why? You’d take issue if there were?” I fire back.
“I don’t want her to get hurt. She’s gone through a lot, especially this past year.”
“I’m aware of that since I’m the one who’s been with her almost every weekend. The last thing I wanna do is cause her more issues, which is why I told her I was done going out and set her free of babysittin’ me.”
Saying those words again causes my chest to tighten. I won’t have any excuses to see her unless I make up a reason.
“Well, that was noble of you.” He grins. “Harlow says she hardly hears from her and when they celebrated their dad’s birthday, she barely spoke a word.”
“She’s grievin’,” I remind him.
“Yeah, Harlow too. I hate that for ’em.”
“I could tell somethin’ was off last night even before the bar fight?—”
“There was a bar fight, too?” he exclaims.
Shit. No one else knew about that.
“The asshole who spilled his beer on Delilah swung at me and I gut-punched him.” I wave him off. “It’s no biggie. He walked away with all his teeth and limbs.”
Waylon snorts, rolling his eyes.
“Anyway…we’re just friends. So you don’t haveta worry about me doin’ anything to her.”
