Page 15 of When You Got a Good Thing (Misfit Inn 1)

Xander bristled. “Not you, too.”

“Can’t blame me for being curious, man. This whole town’s talking about her being back and waiting for some kind of reaction out of you about it.”

“You’re not the whole town.”

Logan didn’t flinch at the bite in his tone. “No, but I am the guy who’s watched you be a wingman for the last five years without you ever wanting the same in return.”

“I went to school with nearly everyone of datable age in town.”

“We don’t always stay in town. That hasn’t changed your MO.”

“You know the kind of hours I work. I’m not in a position to start a prospective relationship with anyone who doesn’t live here.”

“Doesn’t always have to be a relationship.”

“Does for me.” He’d tried meaningless sex. The physical release hadn’t given him what he was looking for. Not when he knew the difference of being with someone who truly mattered.

Logan tipped back his beer, nodded. “So, she’s ruined you for all women.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Xander snapped.

“You haven’t had a serious relationship since her. Least, not one anybody knows about—which, given the grapevine in this town, I figure is probably the absolute truth.”

“There have been others since Kennedy.” A couple. But no one who’d really stuck.

Trish, who’d returned with their appetizers, went brows up. “How’d I not know about that?”

“It’s called discretion. Go away, Trish.” There was no reason for her or anybody else to know that those others had been in college, his only stint of time away from Eden’s Ridge.

Logan immediately forked up some of the fries, chewing until Trish walked away to check her other tables. “I think it’s that you never got any closure.”

Xander tossed down his fork. “What the hell, man? You’re a farmer, not Dr. Phil.”

“You can take the therapist out of the master’s program…”

“Which you walked away from,” Xander reminded him.

“I’m just sayin’. She walked away, leaving you with the gaping question of ‘Why?’ I know you. That why has been driving you batshit for years. And there’s probably a part of you still wondering if it’s something you did or didn’t do. Something that you need to learn before you can successfully be in another relationship. That makes her a mystery, and you, my fine fellow, cannot resist a mystery.”

“And you can’t resist an opportunity for analysis. Even though you suck at it.” Scowling, Xander stabbed at the giant fried onion. Logan wasn’t wrong. But damned if he was going to admit it. “Are you done playing armchair psychologist? Because I really just want to watch the game.”

“Fine, fine.” Logan lifted his hands in surrender. “So Tennessee’s looking good in this bracket.”

They talked basketball and work. Logan bitched about the tractor he had torn apart right now and how he wasn’t going to get spring planting done in time if he didn’t bend the bastard to his will. They made plans for poker night with some other friends next week. Degree by degree, Xander began to relax. And as he did, the single detail he’d been trying to block out all day began to circle in his mind.

Kennedy claimed to be staying in Eden’s Ridge. After ten years of globetrotting, seeing and doing God knew what, she was coming home. But how long would that last? Was this just until she and her sisters sorted things with Ari and their inheritance? Would she be gone again as soon as the family situation was stable, or was she truly back in the Ridge to stay? After a decade of broader world experiences, could she possibly be satisfied by a life here?

And why the hell was he even thinking about all this? What Kennedy Reynolds did with her life was none of his concern. The only salient point in all of this was that she’d be around long enough for him to make his apology, ask his questions, and get his answers, whatever the hell they were. He’d solve the mystery and finally, at long last, move on with his life.

So why didn’t that feel like enough anymore?

Chapter Five

“ARI’S FINALLY OUT, I think,” Kennedy reported. “Poor thing is exhausted.”

From her spot curled up on the sofa, Pru knit her hands. “I still wish she’d eat more than three bites at a time.” She looked up as Maggie squeezed her shoulder.

“She’ll get there. Everybody grieves differently.” Maggie took a seat. “But now that she is effectively out of earshot for a bit, we do need to talk about what we’re going to do about her.”

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