Page 26 of Destined Predator
It wasn’t a lie. They had a sick steer they were monitoring, before calling in the vet, and Javon wanted to start roping the calves, getting them broke to it.
Be in touch.
He would. They would. No problem there.
Thinking of you.
That…was from Casey. Again, it looked normal, formulaic, but those three little words hung heavily on Rhett. Casey had said again before he left that things were up to Rhett, things he was comfortable with and the pace he felt okay at—and Rhett wasn’t ready. He was barely ready for sex with Casey, so something like being his destined mate? No, Rhett…was a coward.
He shut off the screen of his phone with a jerky press of his thumb and rammed the cell into his pocket. The task he was here at the third pasture to do wasn’t absorbing enough. It left his brain free to gnaw away at things. He needed something more physical. And a change of scene—the Double T wasn’t blowing away the cobwebs.
Rhett made his way to the barn, and handed Hurricane over to Phil. “I’m heading into town,” he told him.To be a coward there.
“To the construction office?”
“What?” Rhett spun around at Phil’s question. His ranch hands knew he was thinking about Casey, was considering going to see him at work?
“See Mac about booking the work you mentioned. At the house?” Phil gentled Hurricane.
“Oh.” Not that Casey would be in the small, central office. He’d be out at Longview Lane, and Rhett couldn’t exactly swing by, with the Miller house being the only thing there. What excuse could he give? ‘Hey there, Casey—remember the other day when I stripped naked here, after you did, just before you turned into your coywolf form, and I petted you? Well, I think I left my shorts here. You ain’t come across ’em, by any chance?’
“Yeah. I was thinking about getting some reno done. Well, could be.” Or not, if it meant employing Casey. Rhett hadn’t thought that far ahead. “No, to the bank. Jack’ll handle lunch.” Rhett was texting him as he spoke. “I got my cell with me if you need me.”
And I won’t be checking the messages, he thought, swinging his truck down the Double T track, wishing he’d swallowed a couple of aspirins, to stave off this headache more. He thought about turning back, but went into Britton, intending to go to the bank, and the first person he saw, when he parked in the lot, was his ex, Olivia.
“Rhett?” she called from the street.
“Livvy?What…?”Are you doing here? Why are you back in town?Everything he thought of saying sounded hostile, and that wasn’t where they were at, so he finished in a goofy grin.
“Yeah, got some business to see to.” The jerk of her hand could have been indicating the store where she’d worked or parents’ house. “You okay?”
Rhett nodded, wiping the back of his hand over his forehead, refusing to think it felt warm to the touch.
“Yeah? What are you doing in town? You seeing someone?” Olivia asked. “If not, wanna go get coffee?”
“Sure.” They were right near the dinner. Her invite made sense. He hooked out his arm, as gallant as his mother had tried to make him, for Livvy to stick her hand through.
“It ain’t changed a bit,” she deadpanned, inside the Meadowlark, indicating the long counter with the whiteboard at one end, with the daily specials written on it. Not that there was any need—Carole had had the same specials on the same day of every week for as long as Rhett could remember. “Oh, no, I’m lying. That’s different.”
She tapped a small table near the door that was holding the condiments. They used to be on the individual tables. “More modern, I guess,” she commented, sweeping past it for a back table.
Rhett cast a look at the door. When opened, it let in some fresh air to cut through the diner’s bacon grease and pine floor cleaner smell. “Hey, let’s sit up here,” he called, pulling out a stool for Livvy, the scrape of its legs against the tile loud. There was a choice of seating—the lunchtime crowd wasn’t in yet. “We’re not eating, right? Just grabbing a coffee?” He pushed away the folded newspaper someone had left there.
The waitress behind the counter had a white diner mug in front of Rhett, its yellow-breasted Meadowlark a little faded from the dishwasher, and was pouring the coffee from the pot almost before he’d sat down. When Olivia asked for decaf, theclunkas the waitress slid the pot back onto the warmer seemed loud.
Hadn’t Casey said one of his sisters worked here? Rhett took a glance around but only saw Denice, who’d been here since Rhett had been in high school. He stood to pour himself and Livvy glasses of cold water from the jug. His stool squeaked when he sat again, and it set his teeth on edge.
“’S’okay, I know that wasn’t you,” Olivia joked, making him think he must have been wincing. “You cold?”
“Maybe,” Rhett replied. “A little, I mean.” He bent his face slightly so the steam from his cup wafted onto him to warm him, then wrapped his fingers around the water glass to cool him. Hefelt like bringing it to his forehead, to roll it along like his ma had used to. The thought made him wince. The throb behind his eyes didn’t match his heartbeat; it lagged, then surged, like it was trying to sync to something that wasn’t him. His temples throbbed harder, a pulse that didn’t quite match his heartbeat, more like something trying to sync with it. Chauncey had sometimes said she behaved like a Southern Belle who was in the wrong state. He’d said the same of Jack, sometimes, shaking his head over his younger son’s more delicate bone structure andprettyface.
“I heard you were in Bard’s the other night.” Olivia lowered her voice and shook her long dark-blonde hair over her face a little. “Was it a date?”
“With Casey? No.”
“No, I meant with that Greg guy, but dang, Rhett! This song about you?” Olivia tilted her head at the radio, playing a country song as always, this one about how to choose the right one to ride the wide horizon with, and leave the losers in the dust.
Despite feeling tired and achy, Rhett had to smile. “No, well, I was kinda trying with Greg, but nothing came of it. And it won’t,” he added.
