Not now.
Through the back window, the sounds of the party waft up through the late afternoon and early evening. Children laughing. Women gossiping. Men talking about horses and beer and cigars. The scent of barbecue and cedar floating in the air.
On a typical day, I’d love this kind of party. I’d be playing with the kids on the new swing set. Joking and mingling and having a blast. Taking Ethan’s hand so we could dance to the Rolling Stones drifting from the sound system.
Wild Horses,I think with a smile. Logan must’ve made the playlist.
Instead, I’m hiding and confused and hurt.
Because it pains me to see Allison planted next to Ethan at the picnic table with her parents and his mom. It hurts to see the easy way they laugh, and the picture-perfect way they look when Cody climbs onto his dad’s lap, and Mila wanders over to her mom’s side.
But what can I do?
Nothing.
Because they were a family long before I arrived on the ranch.
Allison is obviously on her best behavior, and I feel murderous when she places her hand on Ethan’s shoulder and leans toward him to whisper something.
“You’re in over your head, sugar plum.” Jamie’s voice in my ear makes me jerk away. “She’s a done deal. You think Ethan can resist that beautiful woman and her family’s money?”
He trails a finger over my shoulder, and I slap it away. “Don’t fucking touch me,Jamie.” My breath is a harsh pant, that light-headed feeling back with vengeance.
“I just hate seeing you get hurt, is all. Don’t want you caught up in this mess.”
“That’s rich coming from you. I’m sure your great sense of altruism is at the heart of your advice.” I step around the island, needing to put space between us. He follows two steps behind like a predator.
“Honestly, I think you probably saved their marriage. Ethan might deny it to you, but I know for a fact they’ve been talking every day.”
The air in my lungs stalls when I look for some hint that he’s lying, but he stares me straight in the eye.
In my head, the comparison is quick. I’ve barely spoken to Ethan during the last two weeks, but he’s been talking to Allison daily?
The corner of his mouth tilts up and he continues his assault to my heart. “Want to hear the ironic part here?” He lifts his thumb over his shoulder. “Ethan’s the one who talked me into staying with Felicia. Said the side chick I was seeing wasn’t worth my time. Wasn’t worth my marriage. That marriage was sacred and worth any sacrifice. Wise words. Ones I’m guessing he’ll probably heed once Allison tells him she’s reconsidered the divorce and wants to come home. I think she saw the hot piece of ass Ethan was fucking and had a change of heart, and she has you to thank for showing her how good she had it. See. I told you. Ironic.”
He laughs, the sound scraping over my skin like white-hot coals.
A boulder of emotion builds in my chest, and I shake my head. “You’re lying.” Isn’t he?
“Sugar plum, I’ve lied about a lot of things in my life, but I’m not now.” With one hand on the counter, he leans back, cool and collected.
He’s telling the truth.At least in part. But which part?
Shoving his hands in his pockets, he lowers his voice. “Why are you with Ethan anyway? I thought you and I had a good thing.”
Laughter, shrill and maniacal, sweeps out of me. “You can’t be serious.” Why does this asshole care?
His spicy cologne and smug smile take me back to the days and weeks after that dreadful day at his house. The messages he left on my phone. Those stupid bouquets of carnations. How he kept trying to track me down at work.
“Are you jealous I’m with Ethan?”
He scoffs, but there’s that weird tick in his jaw. “Just saying when it goes to hell here, you know who you can turn to.”
Yeaaah, no.
Outside the window, guests are leaving. A steady stream of voices leads around the side of the house to the cars parked out front.
Thank God. Let this day end.
