Page 62 of Christmas at Hart's Ridge

“She’s better than that, you know. I told you from the beginning, she isn’t someone you can throw away when you’re done.”

Fucking hell, I was tired of this shit. Tired of him thinking I was an awful person just because I enjoyed sex. Tired of him thinking sex was all I cared about.

“For fuck’s sake, Ethan, get off your high horse. I’ve never thrown a woman away. Just because I didn’t have a relationship with them doesn’t mean they were worthless. I’ve never treated a woman like that, and I guarantee no one I’ve been with would say I had, either. We both got what we wanted from our time together. Who the hell are you to say otherwise?”

“We’re not talking about other women. We’re talking about Bethany. You think she’s going to be happy with some holiday fling?”

“I hope not.” I said it quietly, fervently, like a prayer.

Ethan stared at me, slack jawed. “Holy shit, you’re in love with her.”

“Mind your own damn business,” I muttered.In love with her?Shit. My palms started to sweat.

Ethan thunked his head against the headrest behind him. “This makes everything so much worse.”

“First you don’t want me to throw her away, now you don’t want me to keep her. Make up your mind. You’re giving me whiplash. How is this worse?”

“Because she wasmine, Luke. The only thing in this goddamn world that was just mine.”

I looked at him, assessing.

“Not like that,” he said irritably. “My whole life, it’s been like this. A shadow ofyourlife. I work in your bar. I live in your house—”

“The Buchanan house,” I reminded him. “It’s been in our family for generations.”

“You had Dad sign the deed over to you when you turned twenty-one. Did you think I didn’t know? It’syourhouse.”

I was silent.

I had done that, yes. Because Mom and Dad might have technically lived there, but they weren’t the ones making sure the property bill got paid on time. They weren’t the ones who had to figure out what to do when the heater broke.

But I had done that to protect Ethan just as much as me.

“My name is on the deed, but it’s your home, too,” I said. “You’re a Buchanan. Whatever happens to the house, we decide together. It doesn’t matter whose name is on the lease. The house is yours as much as mine.”

He gave me a speaking glance. “You have never once talked to me about the house. You make all the decisions on your own.”

Now I was exasperated. “Did you really want to weigh in on the new roof? You’re a kid.”

“I haven’t been a kid for seven years, jackass. But no. I don’t actually give a damn about the roof.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

“It’s just another thing that’s yours.” He blew out a breath. “Your bar. Your house. Your friends. Your town.”

“It’s not my town.”

He arched an eyebrow. “Trust me, it is.”

Okay. Yeah. It was.

“Things were weird at home while I was growing up. You know that. You never let me have friends over. At the time, I didn’t understand why. Now I get it, and I don’t blame you. You did what you had to do. But Bethany lived right next door. She was always around, whether Mom and Dad were here or not. She was my only friend, and she was just mine. She was too young for you to notice her, and she was too busy to have a big group of friends of her own. We belonged to each other. It was the two of us, always.”

Shit. I’d had no idea. I should have noticed how hard things had been for him. I should have done better.

“What do you want me to do? How can I make this better?” I asked.

He scrubbed a hand through his hair, then looked at me. “Is this thing with you two for real? Like, you’re not going to change your mind next week? Or even next month?”

---