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“I wish I could tell you,” Charlie replied, and then they each said something else that Talulah couldn’t hear, and Charlie must’ve gone back to his car and driven away because the conversation ended there.
Still, she was afraid to open the door, in case Charlie wasn’t quite gone. The less she saw of him while she was in town the better.
A loud knock made her jump. “Talulah? Are you coming?” Kurt yelled loud enough to make himself heard all the way upstairs. “The coast is clear. Can you let me in?”
He looked startled when she swung the door open less than a second later. “Oh,” he said, stepping back so they wouldn’t be too close. “You’re right there.”
She gave him a dirty look. “Yeah, I’m right here.”
His eyebrows went up. “What’s wrong with you?”
“What’s so special about her?”she mocked.
He had the good grace to give her a sheepish smile. “Sorry. You’re pretty and all that.” His gaze ran down over her. “Okay, you’rereallypretty. I can see why Brant would be attracted to you. But I’ve never known my brother to risk his friendship with Charlie or anyone else over a woman, especially a woman who’ll be leaving in a few weeks.” He scratched his head under his baseball cap. “And Charlie isstillstuck on you. After all these years! So I wasn’t just being a jerk—that was an honest question.”
“Believe me, it’s nothing I’m doing on purpose,” she said. “I’ve apologized to Charlie. And I had no plans to hook up with Brant. That’s not why I’m here.”
He studied her for a moment. Then a crooked grin appeared on his face—a grin that made him look just like his brother. “I guess shit happens,” he said and thrust out his hand. “In case you don’t remember me, I’m Kurt.”
She did remember him, barely. She’d only seen him in passing. “You’re the youngest in the family, right?” she said as she shook his hand.
“I was barely eleven when you left. But I can still remember it.”
Folding her arms, she tilted her head to the side. She knew what he was alluding to. “Because that was the only thing people were talking about?”
“For weeks,” he confirmed.
She rolled her eyes. “Lovely.”
“Well, for what it’s worth, you seem like an okay chick to me.”
Surprised by his quick bottom-line assessment, she laughed. “I guess I should be grateful for that, since you’re one of only a few in this town to have a positive opinion.”
“All you need is a few,” he said with a wink and looked beyond her into the house. “Since I’m supposed to be fixing an air conditioner, and I can’t leave right away without risking bumping into Charlie again, is there anything else you’d like me to do?”
She waved him inside. “You might as well come in. I’ll make you breakfast.”
Ten
Brant was torn between calling Charlie and simply ignoring what had happened this morning. A text from Kurt said that Charlie had shown up at Talulah’s after he left, so he knew the reason his best friend had been looking for him was to apologize. If he hadn’t spent the night with Talulah, they would’ve been able to put the rift behind them and move on, provided he kept his distance from her in the future, too. That was the catch. And since he hadn’t managed to stay away, he didn’t care to answer any questions where she was concerned.
Or...should he simply call Charlie and tell him the truth? Lay it all out and admit that he might continue to see Talulah while she was in town? He’d never had any reason to lie to his best friend before—never had any reason to keep secrets from him, either—and it didn’t feel good to start now.
But relieving his conscience might make Charlie miserable, and what purpose would that really serve? As Talulah kept pointing out, she’d be leaving soon. If he made a big deal about having the right to spend time with her, he’d damage his relationship with his best friend permanently.
“What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him,” he mumbled.
“What’d you say?”
Brant stood up and spun around. He’d gone out to the farthest paddock to repair the watering system, so he was surprised to find Miles, the brother closest to him in age at thirty, coming up behind him. “I didn’t say anything,” he replied.
“Now you’ve started talking to yourself?”
He shot his brother a mock scowl. “At least I’m not singing all the time, like you.”
“Youwishyou could sing like me,” he said with a grin.
Mileswaspretty good. He played the guitar, too, and had recently started booking gigs at various bars in Bozeman on the weekends. “What are you doing way the hell out here?” Brant asked.
