It’s the tired feeling of a long day’s work done.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Billy
The beer is cold,a bitter burn sliding down my throat, but it does nothing to quench the fire in my gut. I’m hungry, a hollow ache that has nothing to do with food.
I ate. I remember eating. I remember the taste of Seth’s sliders, the char on the meat, but my anger digested it all, burned through every last crumb until there was nothing left but this.
This gnawing, black emptiness.
How dare she? How dare she come back here, waltzing onto my ranch in the softest-looking green sweater that made my hands ache to touch it, and just… barge back into my life?
Her hair was up, showing off the long, elegant line of her neck, and all I could think about was how it used to feel under my mouth.
How fucking dare she!
And Seth. My own brother. Inviting her here. To our table. Our home.
How dare they!
I take another long swallow of beer, the bottle slick in my grip. The room is dark, the only light coming from the moon slanting through the window.
They probably think I’m being a child. Sulking. Maybe I am. But this isn’t a tantrum. This is a past I can’t escape, a past she dragged back onto my doorstep and left for me to trip over.
A sharp knock on my door makes me flinch. I don’t answer. I just stare at the wood, willing whoever it is to go away.
The knock comes again, more insistent this time. “Billy? Open up.”
It’s Tex. Of course. He never could leave well enough alone.
I hear the doorknob rattle. “It’s not locked, you asshole.”
The door swings open, and Tex and Seth are standing there, framed in the hallway light. Seth has his hands in his pockets, his shoulders hunched, the classic peacemaker pose.
Tex is just… Tex. Arms crossed, jaw set, a storm cloud of frustrated energy.
“You okay?” he asks gruffly.
“Peachy,” I grunt, taking another swig of beer. “Just enjoying the quiet.”
“The quiet was a lot quieter before you started slamming doors like a teenager,” Tex shoots back.
Seth steps forward. “We just wanted to make sure you were alright. You took off pretty fast.”
“I’m fine,” I say, but the word is a lie. I’m the furthest thing from fine. I’m a raw, open wound, and they’re poking at it with sticks. “Why wouldn’t I be? My ex-fiancée, the woman who left me at the altar, just had dinner at my house. It was great. Best night of my life.”
The sarcasm is thick enough to choke on. Tex’s face darkens.
“She saved our herd, Billy. What was I supposed to do, spit in her face? Thank her for saving our livelihood and then tell her to get lost?”
“Yes!” I roar, the sound tearing out of me. “That’s exactly what you were supposed to do! She’s not our friend! She’s theperson who looked me in the eye and told me she loved me, then disappeared without a word!”
“She had her reasons,” Seth says quietly, and that’s what breaks me. The quiet understanding. The defense.
“Her reasons?” I laugh, a harsh, ugly sound. “And what were they, Seth? Did she tell you? Because she never bothered to tell me.”
They just stand there, looking at me with a mixture of pity and frustration, and I can’t take it anymore. I can’t take their logic, their reasonableness, their calm acceptance of the woman who destroyed me.
