Читать книгу Bad News Cowboy - Maisey Yates - Страница 9
ОглавлениеJACK ROLLED INTO the Garrett ranch just after nine. He’d finished seeing to his horses earlier and was ready to ambush Kate with coffee and a plan. It was her day off, and he knew she wasn’t still in bed lying low while the sun rose high. It wasn’t her way. Which meant he would have to track her down on the vast property.
But that was fine with him. He didn’t have much else happening today.
His equine operation had gotten to the point that it was running so smoothly he often felt as if he didn’t have enough to do. He had people who worked on the ranch seeing to all of the horses’ needs and a housekeeper who took care of all of his needs. He was forging great connections in competitive worlds. Both the Western riding community and dressage. And he was very close to signing a lucrative deal to breed one of his stallions to a champion hunter jumper, Jazzy Lady.
Now that all that was falling into place and he wasn’t traveling with the rodeo, he was left with a lot of free time.
His mother had said idle hands were the devil’s workshop, usually before she booted his ass outside so he’d stay out of her hair. But then, he’d never had much use for worrying about things like that. In part because he never worried all that much about the devil. He’d gone to church once when he was a boy with a friend from his first-grade class. The pastor had said something about Joshua the son of Nun. And after the service the boy who had been his friend when they’d walked into the building had decided Jack the son of Nun was a fitting nickname for him since he didn’t have a daddy.
Jack had punched that little son of a bitch in the face and had never darkened the doors of any holy institution from there on after. He hadn’t stayed friends with the kid, either. In fact, the only people he had stayed friends with were the Garretts and Liss. He’d raised too much hell over the years to keep many other connections.
Hell, he’d taken to it as if it was his job. And when he’d transitioned from causing trouble in town to bull riding, it had just been a more legitimate method.
And another way for him to try to get his old man to take some notice. To make his mother look at him for more than thirty seconds.
It hadn’t worked. His success hadn’t changed that, either.
But he had Eli and Connor.
Together they’d knit a strange and dysfunctional group that continued on to this day. He liked to think they were all a little more functional now. Well, the rest of them more than him, he supposed.
Though he had some stability now with his ranch. He might not be married and procreating like his friends, but he wasn’t a total lost cause.
And he knew that in and of itself was a big surprise to most people in Copper Ridge. Oh, sure, they were all polite enough, but he knew for a fact no one wanted him dating their daughter or their sister.
Though now they were happy to have him spending money at their establishments.
He killed his truck’s engine and got out, grabbing hold of the big metal thermos he always carried with him during the workday and two tin mugs.
This was a peacemaking mission, which meant he had come prepared. He shoved his truck keys into his jeans pocket and crossed the gravel lot, heading toward the newly built barn, Connor’s pride and joy, with the exception of his wife and unborn child.
Just then Connor walked out of the alley doors and Jack called out to get his attention. “Morning,” he said.
“You brought me coffee,” Connor said, flashing him the kind of smile that up until a few months ago had been absent from his friend’s face.
“Sorry. You’re out of luck. The coffee isn’t for you.”
“I’m hurt,” Connor said, putting his hand on his chest. “You’re bringing coffee to another man, Monaghan?”
“Nope. It’s for Katie.”
Connor’s brows shot up. “Uh-oh. What did you do?”
“Nothing. But I do need to convince her to help me out planning this charity rodeo day. I can use some contacts with the pro association. I’ve been in touch with a few people since I stopped competing. But she’s in a better position with the locals.”
“You could probably seduce help out of Lydia. Or just ask.”
Jack thought of the pretty dark-haired president of the chamber of commerce. Yeah, Lydia would be into it, no seduction required. The charity event, not sleeping with him. He let his brain linger on that thought for a moment, if only because it had been a while since he’d seduced anyone or been seduced in return.
“Sure,” he responded.
“You don’t sound enthused.”
“I’m not unenthused.”
“Yes, you are.”
Jack shrugged. “Not interested, I guess.”
“Are you sick? Because she’s female, so she’s your type.”
Jack couldn’t argue with that. “I don’t need to seduce her into helping. It’s a good idea. You make it sound like women only want to listen to me because of my body,” he said, arching a brow. “I’m more than just a pretty face.”
“I want to say something right now...but I have a feeling I could dig myself into a hole I’ll never get out of.”
“You probably shouldn’t say it,” Jack said. “However, if you were thinking that I’m also a very sexy ass, you would be correct.”
“You better wash your mouth out with soap before you bring that coffee to Kate. Or she’ll probably end up throwing it in your face.”
“She’s not my biggest fan.”
Connor offered him a skeptical smile. “Actually, I think she’s a pretty big fan of yours.” Jack puzzled over the words for a second before Connor continued. “You’re like another brother to her. Which is why she gives you hell.”
Jack let out a hard breath. “Lucky me. Do you have any idea where the little she-demon is?”
“She took Roo out for a ride. But she should be back in soon.”
“Which way does she normally go?”
“She rides out through the main pasture toward the base of Copper,” Connor said, talking about the mountain that the town was named after. “And she comes back around behind the horse barn.”
“Thanks. I’ll head that way.”
Jack turned away from his friend and started walking down a dirt path that would lead him toward the horse barn and hopefully bring him into line with Kate.
The cloud cover hadn’t burned off yet, gray mist hanging low over the pine trees, pressing the sky down to the earth. The air was damp, thick with salt from the sea, and he had a feeling it would rain later. Or if they were lucky, the moisture would burn away, leaving clear blue skies.
But he doubted it.
He cut through a little thicket of pines and came out the other side on another little road. This was the one that led all the way back to Kate’s cabin, but if he crossed that and cut through a little field, he would make it to the barn in half the time. So he did, wet grass whipping against his jeans, dewdrops bleeding through the thick denim.
He could only say thanks for good boots that would at least keep his feet dry.
He hopped the wire fence that partitioned the next section of the property off from the one he’d just left and stood there in the knee-high weeds, staring off into the distance. Then he saw her, riding through the flat expanse of field, strands of dark hair flying from beneath her hat, her arms working in rhythm with the horse’s stride. As she drew closer, he could see the wide smile on her face. It was the kind of smile he rarely saw from her. The smile of a woman purely in her element. A woman at home on the back of the horse.
He felt the corners of his own mouth lift in response, because that kind of joy was infectious.
He stood and watched her as she drew closer, hoofbeats growing louder as she did.
He could pinpoint the exact moment she saw him, because she straightened, pulling back on Roo’s reins and slowing her gait. He started to walk toward her, and she dismounted, her smile faded now.
“I have coffee, so you can stop frowning at me,” he said, holding up the thermos and the mugs.
She squinted, her expression filled with suspicion. “Why do you have coffee?”
“Because I want to talk to you about something. And I figured it was best to try and bait you.”
Kate screwed up her face, wrinkling her nose and squinting her eyes. “I am not a badger. You can’t bait me.”
“Sure I can, Katie. I bet I tempt you something awful,” he said, holding out the thermos and unscrewing the lid.
Kate rolled her eyes. “Tempt me to plant a boot up your ass.”
He left one mug dangling from his finger and straightened the other, then poured a measure of coffee into it. “Be nice to me or I won’t give you what you want.”
He watched as the faint rose color bled into her cheeks, lit on fire by the first golden rays of the sun breaking through the cloud cover, adding a soft glow to her face. “You seem to be forgetting who you’re talking to, Monaghan,” she said, her voice gaining strength as the sentence picked up momentum. “Boot. Ass.”
“You do need your coffee. You’re cranky.” He held out the mug and she took it, wrapping her fingers around it like claws.
“I wasn’t.”
“Well, stop. I want to talk to you about the rodeo.”
She took a sip of the strong black coffee and didn’t even grimace. But then, she would have trained herself to never make a face. She drank her coffee and her whiskey straight up and never complained about the burn. Kate never seemed to show weakness, never appeared to have any vulnerability at all.
In that moment he wondered what it might be like if she did. If she softened, even a little bit.
Dark brown eyes met his, a core of steel running straight on through, down deep inside of her. Yeah, there would be no softening from Kate Garrett. “Then talk,” she said before taking another sip.
“Who do you think you can get to volunteer to ride when there’s no score or purse at stake? I mean, we can keep score, but it won’t count toward anything. Just winning the event.”
“I’m not sure as far as the pros go. We’ll probably have to reach out to the association. But I know some people who can do that. You being one of them, I assume.”
One thing about the rodeo he’d liked. He’d come in with no established baggage. Nobody cared that he didn’t have a dad, that he’d grown up poor. His luck with buckle bunnies and his propensity to fight in bars had also added to his popularity.
But the circuit wasn’t real life. It was like living in a fraternity. Too much booze, too much sex—it was all good there. It just wasn’t real life.
Of course, real life was often hard and less fun. “Yeah, I’ve got a lot of buddies from back in those days.”
“You make it sound like it was a million years ago.”
Only five, but it felt like longer sometimes. “It doesn’t just have to be all pros,” he continued, pitching an idea at her he’d had the other day. “We can do amateurs against professionals. That would make for a fun event.”
“Well, you know I would do it. And a few others might. I bet Sierra West would.”
At the mention of Sierra’s name Jack’s stomach went tight. Her involvement in this could be a slight complication.
He gritted his teeth. No, there was no reason to consider the Wests a complication. Sure, he shared genetic material with them, but the only people who knew that were his mother, the man who had fathered him and Jack himself. As far as he knew, the legitimate West children knew nothing about it, and Kate certainly didn’t.
If he were a sentimental man, he might have been tempted to think of Sierra as a sister. But he couldn’t afford sentimentality. And anyway, he’d accepted quite a bit of money to pretend he had no clue who his father was. And so he was honor bound to that. Well, not exactly honor bound. Bought and paid for, more like.
“Great. Sure.”
“If you don’t want my suggestions, don’t ask for my help,” she said, her tone cutting.
“I want your suggestions,” he bit out.
“You sound like you want my suggestions like you want a root canal.”
If he was this transparent at a mention of Sierra’s name, then dealing with her while coordinating the rodeo events would be somewhere way beyond awkward. Which meant he had to get it together.
“Sorry, honey,” he said, not quite sure why the endearment slipped out. Because he was trying to soften his words maybe? “I do want your suggestions. That’s why I came to you for help.”
She chewed her bottom lip. “You really do want my help?”
“Yes.”
“Why? I mean, there are a lot of people you could get to help you. People who aren’t kids.”
“I don’t think you’re a kid.”
He could remember her being a kid, all round-faced enthusiasm, shining dark eyes, freckles sprinkled over the button nose. Usually, she’d had dirt on her. Yeah, he could remember that clearly. But that image had very little to do with the woman who stood before him. Her cheeks had hollowed, highlighting the strong bone structure in her face. Her nose was finer, though still sprinkled with freckles. Her dark eyes still shone bright, but there was a stubbornness that ran deep, a hardness there developed from years of loss and pain.
She cleared her throat. “That’s news to me.”
“Consider yourself informed.”
“Now that we’ve established we’re on equal footing—”
“I didn’t say we were on equal footing. I said I didn’t think you were a kid.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“I’ve been pro, honey badger,” he said, combining her earlier assertion that she was not a badger with his accidental endearment. “I know the ins and outs of these events. My contacts are a little bit out of date, which is where you come in, but the rodeo is still my turf.”
“Bull riders. The ego on y’all is astronomical.”
“That’s because we ride bulls. Those are some big-ass scary animals. A guy has to think he’s ten feet tall and bulletproof to do something that stupid.”
“It’s true. You are kind of stupid.” A smile spread over her face. Sometimes, it turned out, Kate did smile at him. But usually only after she was done insulting him.
“I’m wounded.”
“Don’t waste your time being wounded. First, we’re going to have to find out if the Logan County Fairgrounds are available for the date we would need it. Probably the day before the actual rodeo starts or the day after.”
“You know who to call for that?”
“Yeah, but I might want to go through Lydia.”
“Good call,” he said. “See? This is why I asked for your help.”
“Because I’m a genius.”
“Sure.” He shrugged. “About a couple things.”
“Aren’t you going to have any coffee?” Kate asked, something searching in her brown gaze now. He had no clue what the hell she was looking for, but even so, he was almost certain she wouldn’t find it.
“I have to run,” he said. He didn’t have to run. He didn’t have anywhere to be. Except for some reason he felt averse to prolonging this moment here in the field with her. “When is the next local meeting?”
“Tomorrow night. You should come.”
He’d stopped going to the amateur association meetings in Copper Ridge years ago. He’d turned pro when he was twenty, using the money that the man who was, according to genetics, his father had given him to keep his mouth shut about his existence.
Sometimes it felt like his attempt at being seen when he’d been paid to disappear. A way to demand attention without breaking that damned agreement. Other times it had all felt like an attempt to bleed that unwanted blood right out of his veins, let it soak into the arena dirt until the Wests weren’t a part of him anymore. But that feeling had faded as he turned that initial bit of money into yet more money through event wins and investments and sponsorship deals.
Though at thirty-three, he felt too damn old to get trampled on a regular basis. He’d felt too old five years ago when he’d quit. Not just too old for the getting-trampled part but the hard living that went with it. He knew there were plenty of guys still out there riding, but he didn’t need to and he felt lucky to have escaped with as little damage as he had.
“Sure, I’ll be there. I’ll do the hard sell and see if anyone else has more ideas.”
“Do you want to ride together?”
He nodded slowly. “Yeah, let’s do that. Do you want to drive?”
“I think your truck is a little bit cushier than mine, but I appreciate the offer.”
“Okay, then, I’ll pick you up... When?”
“Seven.”
He gripped the brim of his hat with his thumb and forefinger and tipped it slightly. “Okay, then, see you at seven.”
* * *
SHE HEARD A car engine and raced to the window, her heart pushing against the base of her throat. But she didn’t see anything. No truck. No Jack.
“Oh my gosh, calm down, me.”
It was probably just one of the ranch hands headed out to the barn, or maybe Eli getting home from work. There were three whole minutes before Jack was supposed to show up, after all. And she was being ridiculous about it. Completely overcome by the sense of hyperawareness that often assaulted her when dealing with Jack-related things. And she would picture him pulling up, and her stomach would turn over sharply, her breath catching, and there was nothing she could do to stop it. The response was completely involuntary, and it was so strong it made her legs shake.
Anyone would think she was waiting for a date.
She gritted her teeth and closed her eyes tight just as she heard another engine sound. Her eyes popped back open and she brushed the curtains aside again just in time to see Jack’s truck rumbling up the drive.
She put her hand on her stomach. “Stop it,” she scolded herself. It did nothing.
She grabbed a jacket and her bag and jerked open the front door, then walked out onto the front porch as she slung both over her shoulder. She wasn’t going to sit in her living room and wait for him to come to the door. She was not going to encourage her weird bodily reactions.
She scampered to the truck and flung open the passenger-side door, then braced her foot on the metal running board before climbing into the cab. She slammed the door shut and buckled. “Let’s go.”
“In a hurry, Katie?”
“I would like to be on time,” she said, battling against her urge to bristle.
She didn’t want to bristle. She wanted to be sleek. She wanted to have no reaction to him whatsoever. None at all.
“Is it still at the Grange Hall?”
“Yes, it is. And I hope you ate, because they still serve store-bought sugar cookies and watered-down punch.”
“Ah yes, the official small-town meeting food.”
“I don’t mind the cookies. I don’t even really mind the punch. I just don’t know why people think they go good together.”
He put the truck in Reverse, then turned around and drove back down the narrow driveway that fed into the wider main driveway that eventually curved onto the highway.
“It’s one of the great mysteries of our time,” Jack said. “Personally, I think overearnest meetings like this should come with whiskey.”
“I would have no problem with that. But somehow I don’t think the budget allows for alcohol.”
“Well, that’s an oversight. What has to be cut to make room in the budget for alcohol?”
“There really isn’t much to cut. We kind of pay for our own stuff. In addition to paying dues to be a part of Oregon’s Amateur Riders Association. But you know, support system. Training. And we do get to use the arenas of the fairgrounds a couple times a month at no extra charge.”
“I guess next time I’ll bring my own whiskey,” he said.
“There won’t really be a next time, though, will there?”
“I suppose that all depends on whether or not I’m creating a monster with this.”
“You feel pretty passionately about it, don’t you?” She so rarely asked him sincere questions that he seemed stumped by this one. Well, she was, too. She had no idea what she was doing. Why she wanted to know more. Why she wanted to dig deeper.
“I do,” he said finally. “It feels like half the time the odds are stacked pretty high against women.”
“Seeing as it was my mom that screwed everything up, I can’t say that’s been my experience,” Kate said.
He huffed out a laugh. “I suppose in your life it was different. Not just because of your mom, but because Connor and Eli would kill anyone who hurt you. You’re surrounded by people who love and protect you. There are a lot of people who aren’t. A lot of kids, a lot of women. They’re either abandoned and left to their own devices, or worse, they’re actively hurt by the people who are supposed to love them.”
Kate immediately felt stupid for her earlier comment. “Did your dad... Did he hurt your mom?”
“No. Thank God all he did was leave. But even that didn’t make it easy. It just... This kind of stuff gets me. I don’t want a wife. I don’t want kids. Because I know myself. It doesn’t make any sense to me, these men who have kids just to leave them. Who get married just to mistreat the women they made vows to. At least I know my limitations.”
“You wouldn’t hurt anyone, Jack.” Kate’s voice was small when she spoke the words.
“Not with my fist.” He tightened his grip on his steering wheel.
She studied his profile, the strength in his hands, the muscles in his forearms. He was tan from hours working out in the sun, strong from all the lifting and riding he did.
And regardless of how he treated her sometimes, regardless of the fact that he had been around since she was a little girl, he was most definitely not her brother.
She swallowed hard, her throat suddenly dry. “I’m sure that you... I mean...if you wanted to...”
“I don’t. So it isn’t an issue.”
His response, so hard and sharp, definitive, made her feel stupid. Young.
He took a hard right just before Old Town, moving farther away from the ocean and into the less quaint part of Copper Ridge. The Grange was a tiny little building nestled between a modern grocery store and the edge of a residential neighborhood. It looked as if it was built out of Lincoln Logs, and Kate imagined it was supposed to be quaint, when really, years of repainting and foul weather had left it looking worse for wear.
An American flag and an Oregon flag flew high in the parking lot, which was already filled with pickup trucks. There was no place for Jack to park, so he pulled up to the curb, put the truck in Park and shut it off.
“Maybe we should have warned them?” she asked.
“With what? You can’t email them—you don’t have a computer.”
She snorted. “I could have called.”
“You don’t have a cell phone.”
“I have a landline.”
“You could send smoke signals.”
“Jack,” she said, exasperated, opening the passenger door and sliding out, not waiting for him. She went ahead and walked into the building, greeting everyone who was in attendance, already seated in a semicircle in the back room.
The front room had permanent seating and a stage for community theater. But they met in the back in a sterile environment that had a little kitchenette with bright orange countertops, a white linoleum floor and fluorescent lighting.
Long folding tables were set out with the promised punch and cookies. They looked mostly untouched.
The lonely punch and cookies weren’t all that surprising. They were more of a formality. An offering of refreshment because if there was going to be a gathering, refreshments had to be on offer. The laws of small-town etiquette.
There were only two vacant chairs, and it so happened that they were right next to each other, so any hopes she’d had of getting some distance from Jack were thwarted.
Her friend Sierra waved, but there were, of course, no open seats next to her. Sierra somehow managed to exude both femininity and strength. Kate had no fucking idea how you were supposed to exude femininity. Yet Sierra managed. Her blond curls were always perfectly set; her brightly colored eye shadow made her blue eyes glow. She was the classic sequined rodeo queen. Kate couldn’t even fathom trying to wear a sequin. It would just feel like trying too hard.
She wasn’t the type to ride with turquoise and rhinestone.
But sometimes Sierra made her wish that she was.
Eileen, the president of the group, was reading minutes, so Kate took her seat as quietly as possible. She kept her eyes fixed on Eileen and jumped when Jack took a seat next to her. Did he have to be so...warm? Yes, he was warm. Uncommonly warm. She could feel it even with a healthy bit of air between them. And it was distracting. And disturbing.
She looked down at her hands, which were folded in her lap. But then she saw Jack’s denim-clad thighs in her peripheral vision and became completely distracted by that. They looked hard. And if they were like the rest of him, they were probably uncommonly hot. Temperature-wise. Just temperature.
She forced herself to glance away.
When Eileen got to the part where everyone brought up relevant business, Kate didn’t speak up, because she didn’t want to speak first. And also, the dry throat.
When it finally seemed that topics had been exhausted, from a need for new barrels for the arena they trained in at the fairgrounds to shared transportation to amateur events on the West Coast later in the year, Kate opened her mouth to speak. But Jack beat her to it.
“Hi,” he said, clearing his throat. “If you don’t know me, I’m Jack Monaghan. I used to ride pro in the circuit, though I haven’t for a few years. But I wanted to come today to talk to you about the possibility of doing a charity day at the upcoming rodeo here in Logan County.”
Eileen brightened visibly. “What sort of thing did you have in mind?”
“Well, Kate and I have been talking, and she was the one who told me I should come tonight.” He gestured toward her and she lifted her hand, twitching her fingers in an approximation of a wave. “We were thinking that it would be a chance for this group here to take part in some events. And I could get in touch with some of the riders I know coming through with the pro association. See if maybe they wouldn’t mind participating, either. You could all compete against each other. And we would work with the chamber of commerce both here and in some of the other towns to get food donated, as well. I have plans for the proceeds to go to a couple of the battered-women’s shelters and to help a local business that’s been trying to get disadvantaged women back on their feet after they leave abusive situations.”
“Well, provided we can secure the space, I think that sounds like an excellent idea,” Eileen said. “Can I get an informal count of who would be interested in participating?”
Nearly every hand in the circle went up, and Kate’s heartbeat increased, satisfaction roaring through her.
“That’s a good start,” Eileen continued. “We’ll just want to see which day the fairgrounds might be able to accommodate us. I’m willing to do that.”
“That would be great,” Kate said.
She was more than happy to let Eileen use her connections with the board at the county expo.
“Kate and I will work on the roster and the schedule of events.” Jack was speaking again, and volunteering her for things, things that they would work on together. She wasn’t sure how she felt about that. “So you can get in touch with either of us if you want to participate, and we’ll get you added to the list. If you don’t want to compete, we could still use the help. We’ll need a lot of volunteers to try and keep costs down. Because if it gets too expensive, we won’t have anything to donate.”
After that, much-less-organized conversation broke out in the room, a buzz of excitement surrounding them.
“Okay, I think that concludes official business for the evening,” Eileen said above the din.
Kate stood, and Sierra rushed across the circle and to her side. The other woman spared a glance at Jack, a half smile curving her lips upward, a blush spreading over her pale cheeks. She was doing it again. Exuding. Sierra West was beautiful—there was no denying it. She was even beautiful when she blushed, rather than awkward and blotchy. Kate had a feeling that she was just awkward and blotchy.
“This is such a great idea,” Sierra said. She reached out and put delicate fingers on Jack’s shoulder, and everything in Kate curled into a tight hissing ball. She did not like that.
“I can’t take much credit,” Jack said. Except he really should have been taking all the credit.
“I’d love to participate in a barrel racing event,” Sierra went on.
Jack cleared his throat and took a step away from their little huddle. “Well, just give Kate a call about it and she’ll add your name.”
“And anything else I can do to help...”
“We’ve got it,” Jack said.
Sierra looked confused at Jack’s short reply, as though no man had ever turned down the opportunity to spend extra time with her. “Okay. I will...call Kate, then.”
Jack nodded, his jaw tense. And Kate was perversely satisfied by the fact that Jack didn’t seem at all enticed by Sierra’s clear interest.
On the heels of her satisfaction came annoyance at said satisfaction. Jack could do what he wanted with whoever he wanted.
Though Sierra was one of her few female friends and she had to admit it would be weird if the other woman was sleeping with someone Kate was so close to.
Jack. Sleeping with Sierra.
Immediately, she pictured a messy bed and a tangle of limbs. Jack’s big hands running down a bare back. Long hair spread out over a white pillowcase. Only, for some reason, the woman in her vision wasn’t a blonde with a riot of luxurious curls. Instead she had straight dark hair...
Kate bit down on the inside of her cheek. “Yes,” Kate managed to force out, “call me.”
“Hey, some of us are headed to Ace’s,” Sierra said. “You want to come?”
“I came with Jack...”
“That’s fine,” Jack said, cutting her off. “She can go. We’ll both go.”
“Great.” Sierra smiled brightly. “See you there.”
Kate rounded on Jack, the tension from earlier taking that easy turn into irritation. “Did you just give me permission to go somewhere?”
“I’m your ride.”
“Yes. My ride. Not my dad.”
He chuckled. “Oh, honey, I don’t think for one second that I’m your dad.”
“Stop calling me that,” she said, ignoring the rash of heat that had broken out on her skin when he’d spoken the endearment.
It made her angry because she was not his honey. Not now, not ever. She clenched her teeth and her fists, turned, and walked out of the room, headed out into the warm evening air.
“I can’t call you honey, I can’t call you Katie. I can’t win,” he said, his voice coming from behind her.
She turned around to face him. “You could call me Kate. That’s my name. That’s what everyone calls me.”
“Connor calls you Katie.”
A strange sort of desperation clawed at her chest. “Connor is my brother. If you haven’t noticed, you aren’t. Now let’s go to Ace’s.”
