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Three
Laney
I stepped out of the clinic and pushed my sunglasses down onto my nose. It was hot out, but there was a picnic table under some trees next to the building. If I could find a spot that wasn’t full of bird shit, I’d rather sit outside than in the eerily quiet waiting room. Ma would lose her shit if she saw me sitting out where everyone could see a Granger was at a mental health clinic, but my nerves were too frayed to dwell on it.
My luck was picking up. Half the bench was clean. Dusty as hell, but better than getting bird poop stains on my shorts. I wiped the dust off with my bare hand, then brushed my hands together to get the grit off before I got it on myself. This was my favorite pair, and they were white.
After the morning I’d had, I dressed cute for Kane’s appointment. A little boost for my raw emotions.
I sat down and tipped my head back. Heat gathered behind my eyes, but I refused to cry. Someday, when this mess was sorted, maybe I could think about how I’d fucked up in Texas. I could ugly cry and maybe even confess to Kennedy. I had a little. Told her I’d pretended to be like her to get the guy of my dreams since the other guy I thought I would grow up and marry and be happy with had dumped me.
Turned out guys just plain didn’t want to be with me for the long haul, whether I was brutally real or fake as hell.
A bourbon-and-citrus scent curled into my nose before I sensed someone else in my little sanctuary. That smell was sophisticated, more expensive than what could be bought anywhere near Coal Haven. So damn familiar, my heart ached.
“Delaney.” That voice. As rich as his aftershave.
My breath puffed out a “fuck.” Today wasn’t going to be my day, cute shorts or not. I opened my eyes and pushed my glasses up into my hair. I’d refreshed the ponytail but was far from the polished Delaney Archer was used to. “Archer. How the hell are you here right now?”
His brows lifted at my vitriol. But, seriously. Couldn’t a girl have a pity party in private?
He gestured to the little ten-room motel behind him. The small twist of his waist made his polo cling to him and show off the defined muscles that still invaded my dreams. “This is the only place to stay in town.”
Yeah, it was. Mostly used for family not wanting to impose when they were in town to visit and the many hunters and fishermen who came through year-round. I’d never been inside, but the place was as old as the town and probably more updated than my parents’ house. “Find it to your liking?”
Surprise flickered in his gaze. At some point, he’d get over my sarcasm. It was as natural to me as my blonde roots.
“It’s…adequate.”
I snorted. The motel room would probably be the smallest room Archer had ever slept in, with the cheapest mattress and the least thought put into its decor. That wasn’t a dig on the motel. It was just that Archer was accustomed to expensive quality.
His gaze raked over the clinic. I should have offered him a seat. Employ those snide manners his friend Briony used to chide me about. But he’d have to sit close to me to keep from getting dirty.
“Why are you here, Delaney?”
“You’d know if you’d given me two minutes of precious time on your most important night.”
His jaw clenched, but his brow furrowed like he’d come to that same conclusion. “Care to tell me now?”
His drawl was barely there. It was subtle, more pronounced, depending on what Texans he had to impress. Archer was a land broker who didn’t just buy and sell land—he bought and sold eight-, sometimes nine-figure tracts of land. Apparently, his boss thought a little twang would make him seem less intelligent and more incapable. Norville Truitt was the seediest man I’d ever met, and I couldn’t believe Archer didn’t see it.
My irritation amplified. The way Archer and his friends had flanked me that night, as if nothing going on in my life could ever be as important as their client dinner. That was Norville’s influence.
He wanted the truth? I’d give him the truth. “My brother tried to kill himself.”
His breath whooshed out. “What?”
“I’d qualify that as an emergency.” I was a little too bittersweet, but I’d held on to these emotions for too long. “A reason to fly home on a moment’s notice. Don’cha think?”
“Why the hell didn’t you say something?” The audacity he had to look confused threw butane on my anger.
“Perhaps I realized my husband didn’t take me seriously enough to listen to me over his friends. Perhaps I realized I wasn’t as important to him as I’d hoped.” Perhaps I’d realized it was all my stupid fault.
“You were important to me,” he said defensively.
Past tense. “I was a doll you posed how you needed. Anyway, obviously Kane survived, but he’s not taking over the ranch, so here I am.”
“He’s in therapy?”
