by Maisey Yates
“Did she?”
“Yep. So I hear from Sadie. It’s not the kind of gossip I would keep up on on my own.” He opened the box and shrugged a shoulder. “Still, I figure it’s nice to help support someone starting a new life.”
Connor being Connor, he was downplaying anything even remotely nice about what he had done. “That’s very thoughtful of you,” she said, moving closer to examine the dessert that was in the box.
“I got pie in exchange for my good deed. I think that nullifies the good deed. My reward is pie.”
“And what variety of pie are we talking?”
“Marionberry.”
“Excellent reward. Do you have ice cream?”
Connor looked up at her, handsome face contorted into an expression of horror. “And whipped cream. I know I might seem uncivilized, but even I have some boundaries.”
“You’re a god among men, Connor Garrett. You have saved me from homelessness—or at least living with my mother—and you’ve given me pie.”
“You can begin paying me back by getting out some plates,” he said.
“Will do.”
She made herself busy getting out plates, ice cream and the whipped cream, which was in the fridge as promised. Apparently, Connor could grocery shop when dessert was involved. Well, dessert or alcohol.
She brought the plates over, and Connor put one piece on each, a very generous-sized piece, because Connor knew she didn’t mess around with desserts.
He didn’t even ask if she wanted the pie warm, because he knew better than that. He put each piece in the microwave for about thirty seconds, and when they were done, she was waiting with a scoop of vanilla ice cream for each.
They both dove right into their pie, eating wordlessly, exchanging looks during bites. “This is good,” Liss said when she was halfway through with her piece.
“Understatement,” Connor said around a mouthful.
“I don’t even know why we bothered to put pieces on the plates. We should’ve just eaten straight out of the box.”
“Because it takes longer to heat up a whole pie?”
“Yeah, good point.” Liss’s thoughts turned to Alison. “So, is Alison still working at the diner?”
“Search me,” Connor said. “I just know she’s trying to make a business out of the baking. It’s hard to start over.”
“You would know.”
“It’s not really the same.”
“Sure it is,” she said, taking another bite as if she could stuff her statement right back into her mouth. She should not be pushing him on this topic, and she knew that.
“No, it’s not the same. She was married to an asshole. She very rightly chose to end that marriage, and because of that finds herself with increased options in life. I didn’t make any choices about changing my life. It just changed.”
But you could make some now. She did not say that out loud. “Fine. But you are still in a new chapter of your life.”
“I should have put that book down a few chapters ago, then. Called it good.”
Liss’s stomach pitched. “I really hope that wasn’t supposed to mean what I think it did.” Right now she was ready to hit him in the face with her pie plate.
“What do you think it meant?”
“I hope you don’t think you should’ve stopped living. Because I don’t want to think about that. Connor, Jessie was one of my best friends. I know it isn’t the same as being married to somebody. I do. But I can’t think about losing you, too. I just can’t. I can’t lose both of you.”
“That’s not what I meant, Liss. I didn’t really mean anything by it.”
“Don’t say things you don’t mean.”
“Sorry, honey. I guess you missed the memo about me being a gigantic bastard.”
Liss sighed. “You are not a bastard. You do a very good impression of one, but I know you aren’t one. Case in point, I am standing in your kitchen with you eating dessert. Your kitchen, that is now my kitchen, too. Because you gave me a place to stay when I needed one. Because you are actually kind of a kick-ass friend. And a good man who buys charitable pies. So enough with the bastard talk.”
“I think you’re the only one who still thinks I’m decent, but I’ll take it.”
Her eyes met his, dark, enticing, with a hint of bitterness, like a coffee bean. Her heart squeezed tight, and she looked down. She didn’t know why this happened sometimes. Why she could stand there and talk to him and feel perfectly appropriate, neutral friendship feelings that she would have while speaking to someone like Jeanette. And then suddenly she would look at him, and things would change. Her breath would catch in her throat, her heart doing tricks. And in those moments he was the furthest thing from just a friend. In those moments he wasn’t just anything. He was everything.
“You are more than decent. And don’t argue with me. Anyway, maybe we should talk about what I can help you with around here?”
“You’re very effectively helping me demolish this pie. That’s appreciated.”
“I will be sure to add pie demolition to my résumé. But beyond helping you reduce the snack foods in your house, I’d like to help. Cleaning for sure, because that benefits me, too. I already do your accounting. But if there’s any other paperwork that you have, I’d be happy to help. I know that Jessie used to handle a lot of the admin.” She had already invoked Jessie’s name once in the past few minutes so she might as well do it again.
“Yeah, I’m pretty behind on some things, I can’t lie about that.” Connor braced his hands on the island, and her gaze was drawn to them. He had nice hands. Strong, square, masculine. He had never worn a wedding ring all that often. The kind of work that he did made the little gold band a hazard. More than one rancher had lost a finger by getting a wedding ring caught on an animal or a tractor. But she was still surprised that he’d taken it off and never put it back on again. In so many other ways she could see he was holding on tightly to the past, but not in that way. Of course, that wasn’t something you asked about. He sighed heavily. “I would like to lie about that. I pretty much do lie about it to Eli.”
“But what’s the point of lying to him? He would just want to help.”
“Yeah, that’s the thing. He wouldn’t be able to help himself. He would jump right in. And then he would resent me for it. And it’s not the resentment I’d mind so much, it’s the fact that he should have his own life. And I shouldn’t be interfering in it with all of my shit.”
“He’s your brother, though. Your shit is his shit.”
“It’s been that way for too long, Liss. I’m not going to do that to him anymore. He has Sadie now, and I just know he’s going to marry her. He’s got to make a family with her. And he should be free to do that. He’s been dealing with other people’s messes for way too long. I don’t need him to do it with mine.”
“That’s what family does. We clean up each other’s messes, because it’s better to do that than to not have family at all.” At least that was what she often told herself, because Madeleine Foster was a mess and a half. And Liss had spent a very good portion of her life cleaning up those messes. She was all in trying to keep her mother happy. Trying to prove her worth. But over the past few years it had started to wear on her. It was an insatiable well she could continue to pour into forever and never satisfy. Never get the one thing she was actually after.
“That’s why you’re good family to have.”
She wondered for a second if he was going to hug her again, like he’d done the other day. Stupid, but that hug was burned into her consciousness. There had been something about it, something that differentiated it from the hugs they’d shared before. It had left her warm and a little bit breathless. Or, more to the point, it had left her a little bit turned on. She’d had a very restless night that night.
All th
ings considered, she really shouldn’t want another hug from him. But she did. Base creature that she was.
It was sort of the story of her life. Stealing a few cheap thrills now and again from innocuous Connor contact. Oh, she didn’t mean to. She didn’t mean to let sparks fly through her veins when his fingers brushed against hers, didn’t mean to go weak-kneed when he smiled and caught her eyes. It was involuntary. And unnecessary. But it happened all the same.
“Well, I’m happy to be your family.” She took a step backward, just in case he did intend to hug her. She needed to curb that before it happened. Because sanity. Because even though her reactions to him were involuntary, and in some ways not entirely unpleasant, it did not mean she had to encourage them. Because, as he just said, he felt all familial toward her. And it was what he needed from her. He did not need her getting gooey over hugs. “If you could leave me a list of things you want to look at tomorrow, I’ll go over it when I get up in the morning and get started.”
“I don’t want you to spend your Sunday doing chores for me.”
“And I want to start as I mean to go on. These are chores. I want to help you. I think I’ve made that perfectly clear by showing up once every couple of weeks with groceries. And by bringing you food so you don’t starve and die.”
“You were sharing that responsibility with Eli.”
“Sure. But I called and reminded him most of the time. Anyway, just leave me a list, and tomorrow I’ll get started.”
“Okay, but I’m afraid you’re going to regret this a little bit.”
She laughed. “Maybe. But that’s future Liss’s problem. Present Liss is going to skip off to bed with a full stomach and not worry about it.”
He shook his head. “Fine, but when future Liss becomes present Liss she’s going to be cursing past Liss.”
“Maybe. But I’ll worry about that tomorrow.”
Yes, this was going to be comfortable. Comfortable, indeed. And as Liss settled into her new bedroom, she knew that she had made the right decision. She was going to be just fine.
CHAPTER FIVE
BY THE TIME Connor got back to the house Sunday night he was tired, dirty and grumpier than a bear with his ass stuck in a beehive. All he wanted to do was grab a beer, sit in front of the TV and pass out.
The damn cows had collapsed the fence on the far end of the property and had ended up scattering into BLM land. It had taken multiple four-wheelers and men to get the craven beasts back where they belonged.
Steak. He wanted steak. That was the other thing he wanted.
He had a feeling it wasn’t a coincidence, considering how obnoxious the damn cows were.
He remembered the list he had left on the counter for Liss that morning, and he perked up slightly. With any luck, the kitchen would be cleaner, and his paperwork would be done. And probably, just because she was Liss, she would’ve made dinner, too. After all, she had to eat, and she had worked all day.
By the time he walked through the entryway and into the kitchen he was almost smiling.
But there was no warm, inviting smell of a home-cooked dinner. Neither was Liss in the kitchen, prancing around in an apron and high heels. He had no idea why he was picturing her wearing that, since he had never seen her wear any such thing; he only knew he had pictured it.
What he had not imagined was Liss storming into the kitchen, barefoot, and wearing jeans and a T-shirt, scowling at him like he’d just voiced his desire to have found her cooking in high heels out loud. “We need to talk.”
“Do we?” he asked, walking to the fridge, opening it, hunting for a beer. He was in trouble, and he wasn’t sure why. He was rarely in trouble with Liss, and Lord knew he had probably earned some that she had never doled out. But as far as he knew he hadn’t done anything wrong today. In fact, all he had done today was work hard and come home to a frowning woman. That was one thing about marriage he had not missed.
“Yes, we do. I was doing that paperwork that you asked me to take care of.”
He arched a brow. “You got a paper cut?”
“I wish, Connor, I wish.”
“I told you it was going to be a pain. You said you wanted to do it.”
“The thing is, Connor, it was not a pain.” She was saying his name a lot. The amount of times she used his name in a sentence seemed directly related to how pissed she was. “Connor, it took me about five minutes to deal with. There were just a few things that needed to be clarified and refilled out. In order for you to get your insurance money. You got the paperwork more than a month ago. I saw the date that was stamped on it. Why didn’t you send it?”
Well, that explained why he was in trouble. He hadn’t realized a whole month had passed since he’d last spoken with the claims office. But in his defense, he hadn’t really thought it was a simple fix. In fact, every time he thought about doing it, a hard knot of stress started to form in his stomach, and he broke out into a cold sweat. So he went and did something else. Anything else. And okay, it might have been easier than he’d imagined it would be, but there was no way it had taken her only a few minutes to do the task.
“I don’t know,” he said, because right then he honestly didn’t.
“That’s not a very good answer. In fact, it isn’t the answer.”
“It’s an answer. It’s the only one I have. I don’t know why I didn’t finish it. It just... Every time I thought about doing it, I didn’t.”
“Connor, this is the only way you’re going to get your barn built. You led me to believe, me and everyone else, that the insurance company was dragging their feet. But they didn’t have all the paperwork because you didn’t do it.”
“I didn’t ask you to get in my face about what you found in the house. I just asked you to take care of it. That too difficult?”
Liss crossed her arms beneath her breasts. “Yes, it is too difficult. I want to understand what’s going on.”
“There isn’t anything going on. I just didn’t get it done.”
“That’s bullshit, Connor. You even had it signed. You just needed to finish the body of the paperwork. All I had to do was fax it over today, and it’s being processed. It was that simple.”
“It wasn’t simple.” He slammed the refrigerator door shut and dragged his fingers through his hair. “Obviously, if it was simple I would’ve done it.”
“But you didn’t. Somehow, I managed.”
“Yeah, well,” he said, throwing his arms out, “I guess I just wonder what the point is. Everything I build, every single thing, just ends up getting destroyed. If I get the money it would just burn, too. Or maybe I would rebuild the barn, and then what? Is it going to be safe?”
His heart was thundering hard, his hands feeling a little bit shaky. He hadn’t realized the outburst was coming until it was over. But he realized, as soon as he had said the words, that they were true.
This ranch had been in his family for generations. And if there was one thing every generation of Garretts had in common, it was loss. When they loved someone, that someone left. When they loved something, it got destroyed. Connor had loved a lot of things. He had added one major bit of himself to this operation, the barn, and it had burned to the ground.
How many more signs from God did he need before he just stopped trying? A guy would have to be a damn hardheaded fool to not realize when things just weren’t going to grow where he planted them.
“You don’t really think that’s going to happen, do you?” Liss asked, her eyes full of concern. She’d looked at him like that twice in the past couple of days. Like he was crazy, like she wanted to hug him and slap him at the same time.
“There are no guarantees.” And she couldn’t argue with him about that. Because he knew it was true. He knew it was true more than anyone. “That barn was something that Jessie and I both wanted for this ran
ch. I dreamed about something like that. I hated that I had to get it through tragedy. With the money from my old man dying. Hell, who would want that? But I had it. Eli, Kate, they gave their share so that I could have that. So that we can take this ranch and make it better. And then Jessie died, and all of my plans went to shit. Because it doesn’t matter anymore.”
It was hard to describe the kind of desolation he had felt when he lost Jessie. The way the future felt as if it had been erased. But then, there was more to all that than he could tell Liss. More to all of it than he could ever tell anyone.
Because everyone had grieved with him over Jessie’s death. He didn’t want to add to it.
“Connor, I know you’ve been through hell. I remember what a big deal it was to you to have that barn built in the first place. How bittersweet it was, because of your dad. I was there. I remember how excited you were, how excited Jessie was. I remember all of your plans. I know all of those dreams that you had are still somewhere inside of you.”
Pain washed over him, through him. Because he wished what she was saying was true. The simple fact was that those dreams were gone. Dead and buried. He was just doing his best to get through the day. To work the ranch.
The fact that he got up every morning and did his work was about the only thing that separated him from his dad.
The thought was like spikes of barbed wire pushed under his fingernails. He wasn’t like his dad. Michael Garrett had checked out of his children’s lives completely when his wife had left. Leaving the ranch to rot, leaving his kids to take care of themselves, while he drank himself into a stupor on the couch.
Connor took care of the ranch. Connor didn’t have children to neglect.
He rubbed his hand over his heart, trying to ease the intense pain that was spreading from there and moving outward.
“I don’t really have dreams anymore,” he said, feeling stupid talking about this. He wasn’t the kind of guy to drag his feelings out into the open and examine them. He didn’t even like to examine them by himself, under the cover of darkness.