Page 22 of Trails of Temptation

“Why is everyone so afraid of Pete?”

“I don’t give a shit about what Pete,” I seethed, then exhaled, running my hands over my face to try to calm myself down. “He’s the only living family she has. If he shuns her for being with me, she has no one.”

“She’d have you—”

“She doesn’t know me,” I argued. She didn’t know about the nightmares I had almost every night. She didn’t know how I barely grieved the death of my late wife because I was too far down a bottle of whiskey to even know what day it was. She didn’t know there wasn’t much of me to give emotionally. I couldn’t match her sunshine. I couldn’t match her light, or her love. I didn’t deserve her in the slightest.

“Show her,” he suggested lightly, but his eyes gave away what he really wanted to say, and it wasn’tbe a fucking man.

Grant had had to do this with Moira, and in a worse way. He’d had to prove he could protect her and her son, and he’d failed the day that son-of-a-bitch broke into their house and nearly killed Moira.

He hadn’t felt like he deserved her then and had admitted that to me.

“Just come inside and eat something,” he urged. “You’re drunk, and you’re going to feel like shit tomorrow if you don’t eat.”

ChapterEleven

Keely

“We’re going to Bozeman next weekend,” Day said excitedly between bites of roast chicken and mashed potatoes, his favorite meal right now.

I’d essentially been cooking for him all day today. He wanted shortbread and ice cream for dessert and had even helped me make it despite how hot it was in the kitchen. Maybe Day knew I wasn’t feeling well today and took pity on me, I wasn’t sure, but he was only ten. He hadn’t been giving me looks of concern and sympathy like his parents had all day, so I’d be happy with his company. Plus, Jennie followed Day everywhere he went, which meant she acted as a vacuum and hovered between my legs while Day and I made a mess of the kitchen throughout the day. If anyone said Jennie was getting fat, it was my fault completely.

“To the science museum. We’re actually going to spend the night inside!”

“I want to go,” Moira playfully pouted, sticking her lower lip out.

“You’re too old, Mom,” Day teased.

Grant ruffled his hair. “Well, enjoy it camp while it lasts, kid. You’ll be too old for this camp next year and will have to go to the overnight summer camp with the rest of your buddies.”

“Scout camp,” Grant corrected.

“I was in Scouts,” George added with a shrug. “Didn’t make it all the way to Eagle, though.”

I was honestly surprised George even showed up to dinner tonight. Of course he had, especially since it was the first night since I’d been back that I hadn’t wanted him there. Not only had he graced us with his presence, but he was being more talkative than ever, even though he hadn’t said a single word to me so far.

Whatever. All I had to do was sit here and eat and ignore the fact that I was still sore from this morning. I just had to sit here and ignore the twisting, gnawing pain of his rejection while he sat two feet away from me eating the meal I made and apparently liking it.

He didn’t like me. I had to accept that. This morning had been a mistake and I’d regret it for the rest of my life.

“George? What happened to your hand?” Moira asked sharply, looking nothing but concerned.

I glanced up long enough to see the bloodied bandage covering the palm of George’s hand before looking back down at my plate.

“Cut it on some barbed wire while mending the fence. It’s nothing,” he replied, his voice like gravel. There was a bit of a slur to his words too. He was drunk. I wished I was, too. Maybe a little bit of wine would take the edge off the pain rippling through my chest.

“Still managed to work like a madman today, though,” Grant said with a hint of reproach in his voice that gave me pause.

“Needed to clear my head.”

I licked my lips, trying to keep my eyes downcast. I’d worked myself to the bone today too, just to clear my head and keep myself busy when all I’d wanted to do was curl up in bed and cry.

“You should go get stitches,” Moira continued, clicking her tongue. “You’re bleeding all over the place.”

“It doesn’t hurt,” George argued. “I had the vet stitch it up when he came by today.”

“George—”

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