Page 49 of Rough
“Renee, I’m gonna grab the other sheet cakes, then head back home. Apparently, I need to get myself appropriately dressed for the day since jeans are no good for workin’ in.”
Snorting, mom laughs softly. Stepping over to Betsy, she wraps her arms around her and loudly states, “Donny wouldn’t want you to show up in anything other than how he’s seen ya over the years. We’ll see you at the church at ten.”
“Hey, Betsy.”
“Country…”
Wilder and Clyde’s greetings come from behind me, but she only stiffens her shoulders and gives mom an extra squeeze. “Lemme grab those cakes, then I’ll be on my way.” Not a single one of us has garnered the right to receive a greeting from her, and I don’t blame her. Not a single fucking bit.
“Morning, boys,” Trina calls out, but again, she goes unanswered as we all watch Betsy weave her way between us toward the front door. As soon as she disappears, my feet immediately follow.
Clambering clumsily down the front steps, I catch up to her as she bends forward to grab the cakes she made for today. “Let me get those for you, Bets.”
As soon as she’s got them pulled free, she holds them between us, stoic and unimpressed with my offer to help. Shifting to her left to walk around me, I slide in front of her, keeping myself between her and the house. The low growl that Betsy releases is both adorable and full of so much warning that I can’t stop my smile. I hold my hands up in surrender.
“Please, Bets. I just want to help.”
She moves again to go around me, but I keep at it. I’ve never been big on smiling or trying to use my charm on people, but whenever I’ve done it around her, it always freed me from the hot seat.
“Fuckin’fine.” Two words. I gottwowords from her, and I feel like I’ve won a marathon. Shoving the large pans into my stomach, a gust of air whooshes from my mouth with how hard it slams into my diaphragm.
Yeah, my smiles aren’t going to win her over just yet. But at least I got a reaction. I’m pathetic enough to want more, so I push her a little.
“We gonna see you at the house later today? For the luncheon ma’s plannin’?”
The middle finger she gives me over her shoulder as she walks away has a genuine smile spreading across my face. I didn’t get any more of her words, but that was definitely a reaction.
Betsy Harper is pissed as hell. More pissed than I’ve ever known her to be. My mind spins with all the ways I can show her how sorry I am for fucking everything up over this past week.
Country boys have no problems getting their knees dirty for the woman they need to suck up to. Mine are going to be bruised and covered in mud by the time I’m done with her.
Chapter Twenty
Wilder
“She won’t even look at us.”
I know I’m whining, but Betsy cutting us completely off is killing me. We’ve been sitting at our table near the edge of the group of visitors for the last thirty minutes, our eyes never leaving the girl we’ve wronged as she mingles and catches up with everyone in town.
Donny’s funeral was as sad and depressing as I expected, but not as heartbreaking as the gravesite burial we attended an hour after the service was completed. Friends and neighbors showed up in droves to give their condolences to Renee and Remy. Some went to the burial, but literallyeveryoneis at this luncheon.
Visitors included the mayor and his motherfucking brother. Betsy’s ex-boyfriend. Why she ever dated him, I’ll never understand. Someday, I’ll get a chance to ask, but for now I have to bite my tongue.
Since my friends didn’t respond, I repeat myself. “She won’tlookat us, let alone be seen or speak with us in public.”
Trina’s nails crawl over my arm just before they dig into my skin to gain my attention. “Wilder, you want to come get a drink with me?”
“Just a minute…” I trail off, frowning when Betsy throws her head back to laugh at something someone just said to her.What was so funny that has her laughing like that?
Clyde groans out something unintelligible, so I turn to Remy, hoping he’ll have a better idea. “Who’s she talkin’ to, Rem?”
He’s leaning forward in his chair with his elbows on his knees, chin resting on his fingers as he’s focused entirely on her. “Think that’s Bart Finley. He’s the new farrier around here and been takin’ care of our horses. Introduced himself before dad’s service this mornin’.”
“You doin’ okay today?” This situation with Betsy has been somewhat of a distraction from what we’re all here for today, but I can tell that Remy is struggling.
Dragging his eyes away from Betsy, he glances at me. “I’m doin’ alright. Worried about mom, but today was nice. It was a nice service and I’m glad so many people came to see her.”
Trina’s nails dig into my arm again as she leans forward. “We’re all here to see you as well, Remy.”
