“How?” I manage through a knot forming at the base of my throat.
His expression turns indecipherable. “Like I said earlier, you made a brave choice. Can’t fault you for it.”
We stand, staring at each other, as the energy in the room dips low.
“I’m sorry,” I murmur. “For what it’s worth . . . I’m really sorry for leaving.”
He turns around, abruptly giving me his back again. “All good.” He pours fresh coffee into the mugs before pulling creamer out of the fridge and dousing each drink. After stirring, he carries them over. “Here,” he says, holding out the pink mug.
The side of it readsCOWGIRL, and I can’t help but think that it might have been a woman to bring such a thing in here. Not that I have any right to worry about the comings and goings of women in Kasey’s life—I gave up that right a long time ago. “I drink it black,” I protest.
“I know you well enough to know your sweet tooth is a mile wide, sugar. Just enjoy the damn coffee.”
Holding back a retort, I take a tentative sip knowing it’s still hot. I wince at the burn on the tip of my tongue, but the coffee isgood. Kasey’s right: try as I might, I’ve always loved things on the sweeter side. But Tobias was a health nut, and I guess it just became easier to absorb his habits. “How do you know my tastes haven’t changed?”
He gives me a small smirk. “Call it a hunch.”
A dimple ghosts his cheek, and I can’t help but look at it. “Okay,” I say, forcing my thoughts—and gaze—away from him. “I have a couple minor updates. I reached out to an old college friend who specializes in estate planning and trust law. She reviewed the inheritance trust and confirmed a marriage is all we need. I asked her how soon the land ownership could be transferred after one of you got married, and she said there’s really no waiting period. I personally think we should give it a few weeks so we don’t encourage any thoughts about fraud. Maybe a month. But technically, the marriage itself will be all we need to stop your uncle from trying to make a claim to the land.”
“What would happen if he tried before we transferred ownership?”
“The case would be reviewed, and the court would see the land is supposed to go to you and your brothers. We’d be able to present our marriage as proof of the stipulation being met. Technically, we wouldn’t even have to proceed with transferring ownership anytime soon, because Huck wouldn’t be able to win any rights to the land. He’s banking on none of you beingmarried as a means to weasel himself in. But since our little deal isn’t going to last forever, we’ll want to get the land in your name sooner rather than later.”
“Makes sense,” he says, nodding. He turns to look at the dark television screen as he thinks it all through. “What will you do? After?”
“After this is all done?”
His eyes turn downcast. “Yeah.”
“I’m not sure,” I say honestly. I take another small sip of the coffee, enjoying the comfort it brings.
“Are you really going to stick around?” he asks, voice quiet.
Apprehension claws at my lungs, making it harder to breathe. The truth is I have no idea what to do from here—planning ahead has become rather complicated. But I know I can’t go back to Miami, and there’s really nothing else left. “I think so,” I answer carefully. “I have a lot of things to figure out.”
He lifts his gaze to me, his eyes full of a hundred questions. I ache to answer them all, to lay myself bare. He used to make me feel so confident about myself, socapable. I wonder what he’ll say when he knows the truth.
When he finally speaks, his tone is wistful. “For what it’s worth, youarebrave, Ava. And this world is still yours for the taking. You didn’t fail out there, and that Tobias guy is just a loser who didn’t know how to let you shine.”
My eyes sting with emotion, and I have to take another drink of coffee to stop the tears in their tracks. “I don’t know,” I admit. I drop my gaze to my lap, and my hair falls like a curtain to hide my face from him. “I’m not sure I have what it takes.”
He reaches out a hand and gently pushes my hair back behind my shoulder. When I look at him, his eyes are simmering. “You do,” he says.
And it sounds like he means it.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
KASEY
I’m inwayover my head.
Rhett carries two handfuls of beers over from the bar, followed by Colt Rustler balancing a tray of shots. I eye the clear liquid sloshing around each one with a healthy level of skepticism. “That better not be tequila,” I mutter.
Wells grins. “It’s definitely tequila. I can smell it from here.”
I grimace. “That’sdefinitelynot a good sign.”
“Drinks for the husband-to-be!” Rhett shouts loud enough for the whole damn bar to hear. A raucous cheer erupts from the tables around us, which only eggs him on. “Body shots coming soon!” he hollers. “Also, looking for volunteer bodies!”
