“I know! Iknow.” He blew out a frustrated breath and slammed his palm down on the table. “I didn’t mean to snap, but I’m just one person. Christ.”
“How can I help? What can I take over for you? Or do you need to talk about feelings? Because… we can,” I offered with a distinct lack of enthusiasm. “If you want.”
“No. Fuck no. You’ve done too much already,” he said shortly. “Giving the orchard the cash, working on the books, being here when I know you’d rather be…Shit.” He pushed his chair back and stood up to pace. “Look, I’ll figure it out. I have lots of help. Jack’s been great. Drew and Marco, too. Take care ofyourself, Knox. I’ve got this handled.”
I ran my hands through my hair, feeling helpless and hating it. “There has to be more I can do, Webb, to help fix this permanently. I have the eight thousand if you want to contact a lawyer, and I can’t think of a better use for the money than keeping Aiden safe. So can I call around and find you an attorney?”
“No, I…No. I told you, I’ve got it handled. Nothing’s changed as far as the lawyer is concerned, and it’s still a waste of money, whether it’s your money I’m wasting or my own.” He snorted. “But if you know a good ex-wife filter for my email… Surely such a thing exists by now. The damned woman won’t stop cursing me out electronically.”
“Are you taking screenshots of this?” I demanded. “Because I think?—”
“Yes, Knox,” he said with strained patience. “Not my first rodeo, dealing with her shit. She talks a lot, but she’s not a danger.”
“Right, no, I didn’t mean to imply?—”
I broke off when Goodman hesitantly made his way back into the room.
“Aiden’s all set and out on the porch, Webb. I’m gonna go out for a run. Unless… Do you want me to take him to school for you?”
“Nah. Thank you for offering, though, Gage.” Webb stood up and gave him a tilted smile. “I need to talk to him. Maybe middle-namemyselffor biting his head off.”
“Meh. Seeing his dad act like a fallible human’s probably good for him.” Goodman grinned back. “But maybe the promise of a Sunday Sundae wouldn’t go amiss? Just saying.”
Webb slapped Goodman on the bicep. “Good idea.”
“Hey, Webb, I’ll take Goodman to Boston today if it’s all the same to you,” I called fake-casually before I gave myself time to think about how taking Goodman to Boston meantbeing alone with Goodman.Breathing his scent, hearing his voice, stopping every twelve seconds to buy him provisions and pretending I wasn’t more attracted to him than I’d been to anyone in years.Gah.“I have a couple things I’ve been meaning to do down there, and I can get them done in person tomorrow.”
“Yeah?” Webb looked over at me, his attention caught. “What kind of things?”
“Oh, this and that. Friends to visit. A condo to check on. Colleagues to catch up with.”HR documents to sign, I mentally added.
Webb nodded slowly.
“I’m gonna need to stay overnight since I’ll probably have an appointment tomorrow,” I said, thinking about how early I could set up a meeting with HR the next day. “But we’ll be back tomorrow afternoon in plenty of time to help with the afternoon crowds in the U-pick orchard. Does that work for you, Goodman?”
“Sick! Heck, yeah, it works.” Goodman’s eyes widened. “I’ve never been to Boston. Can we do a duck boat tour? No, no.” He waved a hand. “That’s probably lame. Is it lame? Or maybe wecould just walk around. Although I’m sure you’ve seen it all a million times?—”
He bit his lip like he was waiting for me to say something cutting, and… okay, maybe his chirpy personality was growing on me, because I really regretted being an asshole to him for the past two weeks.
I also deeply regretted letting myself see that the guy wasn’t just sexy but likable, too, because it made it that much harder to keep my thoughts platonic, which they absolutelyneeded to be.
The man’s goddamn enthusiasm was contagious, though, and made me think dangerous things… like maybe this road trip wouldn’t end badly.
“Yeah, fine, we can walk around,” I agreed gruffly.
“How many more questions are onthis BuzzFeed quiz?” I demanded.
I had not expected my regrets over this trip to be so swift or all-encompassing.
Goodman, who was sitting pretzel-legged on the passenger’s seat of my truck and should not have looked so damn comfortable, glanced up from the phone in his lap. “Like… six. Why? You have somewhere else to be?”
“No. But I’m sitting here fondly remembering the days when you pretended to ignore me.”
He snorted. “Who said I was pretending?”
“You did. Your eyebrow twitches when you’re lying.”
“No, it doesn’t.”
