Page 14 of Take My Love

This time, Warren rolls his eyes. “I eventually slowed down.”

“Alright, lovebirds…” I hold up my hands so they stop arguing on my behalf. “I’ll apologize, but it probably won’t do any good.”

“Even so, at least then you can say you tried.” Maisie grins. “And the offer for you to stay here is still on the table no matter what.”

Her words cause me to glance down at the breakfast bar I’m currently eating at and wonder if they’ve done it here.

Knowing them, no surface in this house is safe, so I desperately need Posey to forgive me.

chapter three

Posey

“Batman,you little shit. Get over here.” I chase behind the buck who somehow got loose and when I finally catch up to him, laughter echoes behind me.

My spine straightens when I recognize who it belongs to.

What the hell is he doing here?

You’d think after I basically word-vomitted my distaste for him on the phone yesterday, he would’ve gotten the hint.

Apparently not.

Maisie texted after I hung up to tell me Silas explained his side of the story but she wanted mine. I gave her the short version, which was similar enough to Silas’s, so she knew he was telling the truth even if it made him look bad.

I might have overreacted a bit when she asked about him staying in my spare bedroom, but I was so taken off guard that my anger and frustration with him came out before I could stop myself.

“Posey.”

The deep timbre of his voice saying my name sends a shiver through me, which Ihate, but can’t deny after all these years he still has an effect on me. Even if it’s unwanted.

I’ve spent the past eight years trying to forget him.And the details of our night together.

“Whaddya want, Silas?” I ask harshly, opening the gate and directing the goat inside the fence. I need to get back to work, but I don’t want him to follow me inside the barn.

“I was hopin’ we could talk.”

When I spin to face him, I regret it. His tight T-shirt shows off his muscular biceps, with one arm now full of tattoos, and the rest of him looking hot as usual.

But there’s a pitiful sadness about him. His expression is full of remorse that I’d usually ignore.

I’ve purposely avoided having to see him because I knew my traitorous heart couldn’t handle it. You’d think after all this time, I’d get over my attraction to him.

“So talk…” I demand.

“Could we go somewhere? Maybe for a drive or walk?” He shoves his hands in his pockets and sweat builds along his hairline.

He’s nervous.

Good.

I place my hand on my hips. “I’m workin’ right now.”

My shirt’s covered in coconut oil and my hair smells like lye and hay. The last thing I want is to be in close quarters with him while I reek of chemicals.

“Do you get a lunch break? I could come back.”

“Not really.” I shrug, losing my patience. “I’m shortstaffed.”