Joey digs through her purse and frowns as she stares at her phone. “What? No, I’m staying at my grandma’s.”
Patrick and I exchange frowns in my rear view mirror.
There’s so much wrong with what she just said, I don’t know where to begin, but I don’t have to because Patrick is already opening his big mouth.
“Can’t, baby doll. Silas sold the house a while back.”
I bristle at Patrick’s nickname for her, because he’s never acted so infatuated with Joey before, though I have to admit she does look incredible despite her recent road trip.
Gripping the steering wheel, I chance a look at her, and her expression says it all.
No, she didn’t know her brother sold her family’s home.
Motherfucking Silas.
Guess I’m not the only one keeping secrets.
4
Joey
My eyes glaze over as we wind through town back to the Carter ranch. I’m trying to keep it together until I can lock myself in a bathroom and cry.
How could Silas do this? He said he’d keep an eye on the house until I got back. He knows how much our home means to me. I don’t have many fond memories of my whole family together, but the few I have were there.
By the time it was just my grandma, Silas, and me, I could almost block out the bad things that had happened there.
I roll down the window, needing air.
“Hey.” Logan grabs my hand, but I keep my head turned because I can’t look at him when I’m this close to the edge. “Sorry, Jo. I figured Silas told you, or I would’ve.” He squeezes my hand. “It’ll be okay. We’ll figure this out together. My mom and Ethan will know what to do.”
This is why Logan has always been my person. He swoops in to punch my bullies and rescue me out of wells.
Why can’t I just love you like a friend? It would make my life so much less complicated.
When he talks like this, I can almost forget what happened at Christmas time.
Like someone slams the brakes, my heart lurches at the memory.
I want to ask him why he said the things he did. Why he cleaved my heart in two. But if I do, that would prove his point—that I’m clingy and have no life—and I still have a little pride left that prevents me from laying it all out there, especially with Patrick hanging on our every word. Granted, I was never meant to overhear Logan’s conversation on the River Walk, but that doesn’t make it hurt less.
Yes, I want to apologize to Logan for not communicating with him more. I never meant for him to worry. At the time, I wondered if he’d even care, but now I know those were my emotions talking. I was so hurt, and that pain blinded me from the obvious—that he cares… as a friend. A friend who needs space.
Grim, still feeling like someone kicked my puppy, I hold out as long as I can before I start sneaking glances at him as he drives.
I take in his rugged good looks. His messy hair that dangles over his eyes and makes him roguishly flirty. That perfect nose and square jaw that’s lightly dusted with stubble. Those sexy lips I’ve longed to feel against my skin. His tanned forearms roped in muscle.
I could go on and on, but enumerating his handsome physical attributes is only making this worse.
Pulling up to the ranch brings an unexpected smile to my face. Even the old wooden sign makes me happy: Carter Cutting Horses, est. 1960.
Logan and his brother raise, train, and compete champion cutters, horses that are used alongside cattle to “cut” one from the herd if it’s injured. They inherited the business from their father when he passed away several years ago. Ethan was graduating from college at the time, and Logan was a senior in high school.
I slide out of the truck and stare at the beautiful house that sits surrounded by acres and acres of farmland and fenced-off areas for horses.
Although I’ve always said I live next door to the Carters, it’s more like two lots over, and since their property is ginormous, it’s a good twenty-minute walk. My grandmother’s house looks more like a shack compared to this ranch, but Bev and her family never treated me like a charity case. Even though I was.
Logan motions toward the barn as we head up the walkway. “Wanna ride Cinnamon Pie some time? She misses you.”
The mention of my favorite horse banishes the gloom that had settled over me on the drive here. “Heck, yes, I do.”
Patrick laughs along the other side of me and tosses his arm over my shoulder. “I love how you don’t curse. It’s so cute.”
What every girl wants to hear. How cute I am. Pint-sized. Adorable. The little sister they always wanted.
I roll my eyes and shove his arm off me. “You won’t think I’m so cute if I knee you in the balls.”
The boys snort, and I’m chuckling when Logan pulls me to his chest, so that my back rests against him. I’m expecting another chokehold, because somewhere in that dense head of his, he thinks I’m his peanut-sized MMA partner, but he keeps his forearm gently pressed to my collarbone. Almost like… like he’s holding me.
I will myself to take a deep breath in hopes it’ll stop my heart from pounding out of my body.
“See. My best friend.” Logan’s voice, low and grumbling in my ear, makes goosebumps break out on my skin.
For a moment, I’m so confused how this could be the same person who said those things about me. If he needs space, why is he being so affectionate? Did he really miss me that much? Did he have a change of heart?
Like this, it’s easy to appreciate his incredible physique and strength. Against me, his stomach flexes, and I don’t have to strain my imagination to envision that crazy eight-pack. Logan is a lean, athletic machine.
And so dang sexy.
I want to close my eyes and relish being in his arms, but I’m already too close to purring and rubbing against his leg like a stray cat.
Coughing, I extract myself from Logan and Patrick’s pissing contest and head into the house.
He’s just taunting Patrick. That didn’t mean anything. It never does.
The moment I’m inside, Mila sees me from the kitchen and screams. Ethan’s seven-year-old daughter races toward me and jumps into my arms, nearly sending both of us hurtling to the floor.
“I missed you sooo much, Joey!” she squeals in my ear.
“Missed you too, munchkin.”
Another set of arms wrap around my waist, and Cody, Mila’s little brother, grins up at me.
“Dude. You’re covered in chocolate.”
His smile widens as he presses his face into my shirt. Ugh. Gross.
I laugh and squeeze the kids, overwhelmed by how excited I am to see their sweet faces. I’ve known them since they were babies. Held them in my arms as infants. Changed their diapers and patched up boo-boos.
Mila’s hair is longer, and Cody is so big, I swear he swallowed a tree.
I’ve never been gone this long without seeing them, and the realization of how much I missed in those six months sends a sharp twinge to my heart. That knife twists when I consider how much more I’ll lose when I head back to Florida like I’ve planned.
Because, really, what are the odds that I tell Logan about my feelings for him and he sweeps me off my feet and tells me he loves me too? Only in the movies. I might be naive, but I’m not dumb.