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“You were right,” I said before he could speak.
His brows dipped. “Mind telling me about what?” he asked lazily, his face still flushed.
“What could happen when I step out of my comfort zone.” I bit my lip to keep from grinning. “You have no idea what you just did for me.”
He cleared his throat. “I could say the same to you.”
Chapter Thirty-Three
Stone
I shovedmy toothbrush in my mouth. It had been a long day of shooting, and I’d been distracted, half blind with lust as I remembered how it felt when Muriella had her mouth around me the night before, and frustrated that she still wouldn’t talk to me about her past. Now that we’d broken the physical boundaries, I could imagine a time when all the boundaries between us were gone. If she told me everything, she wouldn’t have to live with it all on her own anymore. Easing her pain was about the most important thing to me in the world at this point.
My phone rang from the bedroom. I spit and rinsed off the toothbrush, tossing it on the counter before I hustled to catch the call.
“Hey, Granddaddy.”
“I’m sorry to bother you, son. I know you’re working.”
“It’s okay. We’ve wrapped for the night.” I sat down on the edge of the bed.
“Ruby found the letter about the hearing.”
“Oh hell.” I flopped backward and covered my eyes with my arm.
“She’s promised not to say anything to anyone. At the moment, that includes me.” He sighed.
“It’s late there.”
“We had a heifer fall ill. Mitch is doing all he can, but we’ve been preoccupied with that. I left the damn letter on my desk. Your grandmama’s a snoop.” All the affection he possessed filtered through his aggravation. He loved her all the more for being exactly the way she was.
“Mitch said anything to you?”
“Nope. Been awfully quiet, but never mentioned a word to me about…” He didn’t finish the thought. I didn’t particularly want to think or hear the name Randall Hedley myself.
“Mama and Daddy still don’t know?” Only so long that would last given the media coverage that just wouldn’t die down.
“Your mama was on the horn a long time with Beth Birkin last night. If they talked about it, she didn’t say nothin’. I unplugged the router and loosened some wires on the satellite dish so they won’t find out from the TV or internet.”
Damn it all to hell. This situation was spiraling out of control so fast I couldn’t catch it. And with nobody talking about any of it, I was all the more suspicious of just what they knew.
“Maybe we should just tell them. They might see a way out of this we don’t.”
“No. They’ve got enough to worry about. Telling them at this stage ain’t gonna help matters. It’s bad enough your grandmama found out.” Every word he spoke was carved out of worry.
“I don’t like lying,” I admitted.
“It’s called protection, son. Sometimes that means doing stuff you don’t like. What do you like less? Lyin’ or hurtin’ your family?”
When he put it that way, it was hard to argue.
“Heifer gonna be okay?” At the moment, that was a much more palatable topic.
“Think so. Running a low grade fever. Mitch says she’s got a urinary tract infection.”
“Glad to hear it’s nothing he can’t fix.”
“Had a buyer fly in today to look at that stud. He wants us to work with him a little more. Truth be told, I’m not sure I want to let him go.” The old rocking chair on his porch creaked against the wooden floorboards.
