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He sobered. “And I’m happy for you, man. But…do you think you maybe picked the woman who had a lot of shit going on in her life so when she puts the kibosh on it for real, you can shrug and say ‘knew it’ then go back to fucking around?”
That behavior had gotten me through a tough time that I had let go on too long. I might be ready for a relationship, but not with just anyone. I wanted Emery. “I didn’t ‘pick’ her. It’s happening naturally, but slowly. Don’t rush her and scare her off.”
“The kids don’t, you know…bother you? Not even the little one?” His question was full of concern.
“I talked to her.”
Stetson’s brows popped when he realized I didn’t mean that I sat down and had a chat with Riley about my hang-ups, but that I had discussed my history with Emery. “Whoa.”
“Yeah. And it helped a lot.”
“Good.” His expression softened like he finally realized I was serious. Emery was special; she wasn’t a game.
Stetson wasn’t just my cousin, he was my best friend, but this talk was entering awkward territory and neither of us were gushy or huggers. “Thanks for coming out tonight.”
He lifted a brawny shoulder. “Spreading manure on the fields will wait. And I saw Krystal’s car at Rattler’s when I passed. No way was I getting close to there tonight.”
“You know you need to talk to her so she understands that you’re done for good.”
“I tried that three other times and I ended up back with her, even more miserable than before.”
I rolled my eyes. “Don’t take your clothes off when you talk to her.”
“Nah, man. She’s a tricky one. She has this way of making me feel like everything’s my fault and I’m a horrible person, and next thing I know, I’m trying to prove her wrong, and the cycle starts again.”
I gave him a look because it was obvious why he tumbled into her orbit each time.
“Yeah, asshole. I know who it sounds like. Now you know why I want to avoid her.”
Stetson’s mom was a master manipulator. Even my mom didn’t mess with Naomi.
Krystal didn’t have the subtlety of Stetson’s mom, and maybe that was why he fell for her. He thought he knew what was coming and could handle her, but Krystal might be more like his mother than we all thought. And that was why he kept trying to break free.
He was a moth, and he thought that if he was going to get smoked, it might as well be with a familiar flame.
“You deserve better,” I said because I didn’t need another mopey Stetson when Krystal berated him for being himself. “You tell her that, and then tell her that ‘better’ will never be with her.”
“That’s a little harsh.”
“Sometimes you’ve gotta be. No one’s going to think you’re your dad by you telling Krystal to quit talking to you.”
“No one thinks I’m my dad.” He snorted. “Trust me.”
I’d grown up with him. He’d made sure he was the amiable Barron, the one everyone liked, as if to balance out the wake of bad feelings his parents could leave behind. And when he turned to dig around in his pickup, that was my cue that he wasn’t going to talk about it anymore.
He drew back with a duffel and a couple bags of groceries. “I feel like shit taking the cabin when she’s in a tent with the kids.”
“They’re kids. Do you think we would’ve wanted to be in the cabin at their age?”
“True. But if she has trouble in the night, just holler. I can go home and sleep.” He adjusted his black ball cap, turning it around. “Where are you sleeping?”
“I’ll put my tent by hers so she doesn’t feel like she’s out here all alone.”
The approach of an engine made us pause. Nora pulled in with Isla in the passenger seat of her Malibu and Lyric in the back.
They spilled out. Did the three of them coordinate? They all wore mirrored sunglasses with their hair secured back. Nora and Isla wore plain blue jeans, but Lyric’s were more like her personality. Frayed around the edges with a lot of ink.
Lyric wasn’t much older than Nora, but she’d gathered more than a few tattoos. I wasn’t sure if Nora could name a tattoo parlor or even knew how to make an appointment.
