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“You know we do.” His head inched toward mine. I didn’t do intimacy. He was too close. Too much in my space.Too tempting to make me surrender.I never surrendered.
I pushed harder this time. “If someone sees us like this—”
“Do you think I’d ever put you in a compromising position?”
“You already have.”
“How long have we known each other?” Closer, closer, closer. His breath ghosted across my lips.
“Thirty years.”
“Thirty-four and a half,” he said with authority. I’d never admit I already knew that, yet found myself surprised he did. “In all that time, when have I ever done anything but right by you?”
“You know when,” I croaked as I shimmied out of his grip.
Easton pulled me right back against him, erasing what little space we had between us. “Never.”
“I don’t have time for this. I have to get my stuff out of here.” I slid past him toward the wall where one of my drill maps hung.
He followed me and stood on one side of the large frame. “We’ll do it together.”
“I’ve got it,” I said, even as I let him help me.
“Are you going to quit?”
I glared at him. “I don’t quit.”
“Could’ve fooled me.” He eased the map to the floor and propped it against the wall.
I straightened and pointed to the opposite wall. “Do you see that drill map?” He didn’t bother to look, well aware of what was there. “I lost five million dollars of your father’s money on that well, and back then that was a lot more money than it is today.” I marched over to the framed map. “I could’ve given up. Your dad could’ve given up on me. Neither of those things happened.” I tapped the glass. “Because I don’t quit.”
Energy shot through me when I felt him behind me. He moved his lips near to my ear, and I closed my eyes.
“I’m glad to hear that.” He wasn’t touching me, yet it was as though he was everywhere. His breath got closer to the shell of my ear. “Since you don’t quit, we can finally settle what you’ve been avoiding.”
“There’s nothing to settle.”
“I disagree.” He brushed his lips against my lobe. “We will settle this.”
That’s what I’m afraid of.
Chapter Four
Easton
“Where is Drew?He was supposed to be here by now.”
I finished the remaining coffee in my mug and rinsed it in the sink. I hated disappointing my mother, yet always stepped in to ensure Drew didn’t. It never got any easier.
“He’s not coming.” I placed the coffee mug in the top rack of the dishwasher to avoid seeing her face.
“He’s not?”
Briefly, I closed my eyes. Hearing the sadness in her voice may have been worse than seeing it. Finally, I turned. She looked better than she had a few months ago, though her skin had an almost gray, papery appearance from chemo. Her white hair had grown back, but it wasn’t the same thickness it had been before. The blue of her eyes was a bit duller now, yet another side effect of the drugs that were a necessary evil. It was the pain in them that had me close to finding my little brother and forcefully dragging him to our holiday gathering.
“Said he couldn’t make it.” He was on his own creating whatever lame excuse he had for breaking our mother’s heart. Because that’s exactly what he’d done. Only he wasn’t here to see it. I was.
“Well”—Mama cleared her throat—“then I guess we should be on our way.”
