“That’s not fair. I might be a sack of shit, but I didn’t lie, Lennon. Not once.”
Your kiss was a lie. My lower lip trembled, and his gaze dipped there. “Fuck,” he said quietly. He scrubbed a hand over his jaw. “Please get in the truck, honey. I’ll explain everything.”
“I don’t want your explanation, Jeremiah. Leave me alone. I want to go home.”
Except I didn’t have a home. Had I ever? A place that was safe andmine. Not my mom’s trailer. Not any of the apartments I bounced around every twelve months to avoid a rent increase. Not Benny’s place. My shoulders sagged. I was so fucking tired of it all.
“It’s a long walk. We won’t get there until after dark.”
The implication that the ranch and my snug little pine cabin were home only made me more upset. A month from now I’d be gone. Benny’s problems didn’tlook like they were going to wrap up anytime soon, which meant returning to New York was out of the question. I’d been toying with the idea of extending my stay at Mercy River, but now? My stalker had found me and Jeremiah…Well, I had to admit that he was part of my reason for staying.
Not anymore.
I took another step and then stopped again. I didn’t really want to spend what was left of the day walking along the side of the road. My thighs would chafe. Biting off my nose to spite my face wasn’t really my style, and neither was suffering.
“Fine,” I said. “I will get in the truck. But I—” I broke off as Jeremiah shifted into park and climbed out. God, he was tall. I hated that my pulse fluttered. “Um. I don’t want to hear one word from you. I realize that doing a little keyboard investigating isn’t really a big deal. Everyone does that before a date so they don’t wind up getting murdered.” It was really hard to stay on my high horse when he tucked me against his side and walked me around his truck to the passenger side, but I did my best. “I understand that I am probably overreacting but, just so you know, I intend to keep doing that for a while longer.”
His mouth quirked. He opened the door and guided me in. “All right.”
“Good.” I flounced into the seat and reached for theseatbelt, but he was already there, buckling me in like he was afraid I would change my mind.
He rounded the hood of the truck and settled back into the driver’s seat. A quick check in his mirrors, and then he steered us to the correct side of the road. Silently. He kept his word, not speaking until we parked at the lodge.
Before he even turned off the engine, I hopped out, making a beeline for the stables.
“Lennon! Where are you going?”
“To pet a fucking horse!” I hollered back. “For my fucking mental health!”
I heard him mutter a stream of curses, followed by the truck door slamming shut. I broke into a jog. The stable was quiet as I entered. My heart sank as I passed empty stall after empty stall. Dammit. I really wanted to pet a horse. There was something about the velvety nose of an animal that made bad things more bearable.
Footsteps sounded behind me, but I didn’t turn.
“The horses aren’t here. The ranch hands use them for working cattle and other chores, and the rest are on the trail ride Mateo is leading. I’m sorry, honey.”
I whirled, hands on hips. “Then bring me a goat!” I bellowed.
He eyed me warily, then dragged his hand through his hair and tugged. “Wait here.”
I waited. A moment later he returned with a henunder his arm. She was white and plump, with a speckled black head and tail, and bright red comb.
“A goat isn’t any fun to cuddle, honey, trust me. They’ll eat your dress. Or your hair. How about a chicken?”
I held out my arms. “Give her to me.”
He transferred her over. She was soft and surprisingly light. I wanted to squeeze her, but I had the feeling her fragile bird bones could not withstand my affection, so instead I gently cuddled her against my chest. She clucked softly. I stroked a finger down her back, marveling at how fluffy she was.
“What’s her name?” I asked.
“Henrietta.”
“I have had a terrible day, Henrietta,” I told her. “My stalker is back and the man who gives me belly butterflies is a goddamn liar.”
“I give you belly butterflies?”
The vulnerable ache in his tone made me want to cuddle him like Henrietta.
“Shut up,” I said.
