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“You hurt my ego, that’s all. Boys don’t notice most of the time, because theirs are gigantic, but women can have egos too, you know.”
“I get that, but I don’t think that’s all of it. Tell me that I’m wrong, Junie.”
“You’re wrong, Ben.” Her tone and face are serious, and she isn’t backing down. She’s also not looking me in the eye.
“You’re lying.”
She lets out a large, exasperated breath and in a clipped voice that tells me she’s not about to argue with me—probably because we both know the truth—demands I finish this. “Just get on with it, Ben. I got better shit to do than be here all night going over your past love life with my sister-in-law.”
“Luna and I hadn’t slept together. We were just at the stage that included some heavy make out sessions—”
“God, shoot me now,” she says with a dramatic sigh.
“Just like we had started, Junie,” I add, like she said nothing. She shoots me a look with narrow eyes that is definitely designed to make a man’s balls wither up.
“I wasn’t in the right headspace when we started, but I can promise you when it was you and me, I wasn’t picturing you as Luna. It was just me andyouin our bed.”
“Until you said—”
“In my sleep. We were new, Junie. What we were doing was new. Are you going to hold that against me and not give us a chance?”
“Why do you even want a chance, Ben?”
“Because I care about you, Junie. Because I want to be the man at your back, and I want to explore what we started because I happen to think it was fucking good.”
“You say some really good things, Ben, but it doesn’t change the fact that when we started whatever it was that we were, the moment it counted, you had your head filled with another woman. There’s no getting around that. It’s always going to be there.”
“Where we began, Junie, doesn’t have to be where we end up. You just have to give us a chance.”
“She’s my sister-in-law, Ben. Holidays, birthdays, family events, she’s there and I’m there and…”
“She’s there at the football games now, Junie. Yet, I cart my ass there every Friday night that Josh is on the field, to be there—toseeyou.”
“Bullshit. You’re there for Josh.”
“I could see Josh just fine from another bleacher, Junie. Don’t fool yourself, not about this.”
“I got to go, Sheriff. I’ll see you around,” Junie says, getting up, and I know she’s locked down tight because she stops using my name. I’m disappointed as hell, but at least I had my say. Maybe some of it penetrated that hard shell she keeps around her.
“I’ll take you home,” I tell her getting up.
“I can catch a ride at the bar,” she says.
“I said I’d take you, Junie, and that’s final,” I growl, this time my patience is the one at an end. She doesn’t reply.
I go pay our bills, covering Junie’s—because I would have either way—but Zeke’s too because the dumbass didn’t even pay the bill when he left. I guess I owe it to him, since I sent him running on a fool’s errand, considering the vandalism was done by a ten-year-old kid who is currently at home with his parents grounded for life—and also was nowhere near Zeke’s boat.
Then, I put my hand on Junie’s back and lead her out of the restaurant—ignoring how good that feels and the way my fingertips seems to burn against her skin. I don’t know what I have to do to get Junie back in my arms, but I know I won’t stop until she is.
Junie
“You really bought Hoyt’s old place?” Ben asks, and I sigh, because he’s not the first person to ask me that. I hated the place I rented though, and this place spoke to me. It’s an old farmhouse. It almost needs renovations in every room, but the bones are good. The floors are in perfect condition, the bathrooms have been updated, and the original woodwork is gorgeous in a deep cherry wood. The entire land—ten acres—has a fence that runs the perimeter, but more importantly, the main yard is fenced in with a locked gate in the drive. Ben pulls up to the gate and stops.
“Yes. It’s beautiful,” I tell him, and I can’t help if my voice sounds defensive.
“It is, but it’s also a hell of a lot of work to take on your own, Junie.”
“I’m a big girl. Besides, I’m enjoying it. I’m just doing a room at a time. Anyway, thanks for the ride. I’ll see you around, Sheriff,” I mutter, my hand on the door handle ready to bolt.
