Page 10 of That One Night (The Heartbreak Brothers Next Generation #4)

Chapter

Eight

“Frank!”

Emery sat bolt upright in bed. She’d been sleeping fitfully since about nine o’clock, thanks to the sounds of the storm lashing against the house. They matched the dark thoughts in her head.

She’d spent most of the night alternating between hurt and anger. How dare he accuse her of improper behavior? His twisted double standards were such bullshit. And yet they’d hit something deep inside of her, something that made her feel like she deserved them.

She’d fallen asleep fuming. But now she felt disoriented, hearing the rain still hammering against the window. And something else. Something that she couldn’t quite catch.

“Frank! Where the hell are you?”

She could barely hear the words over the sound of the storm. Frowning, she sat up and put her feet on the wooden floor then padded over to the window, yanking open her curtains.

Rain was blasting against the glass, and she had to lean forward until her brow touched the cool glass to see through the torrent.

Her breath fogged the surface as she frowned, her eyes focusing on Hendrix’s house.

The door was open and the light glowing through revealed the silhouette of a man standing at the top of the steps.

Emery pulled her window open and rain immediately covered her face. “What’s going on?” she yelled, but the wind swallowed her words. Was Frank missing? That goat was a pain in the ass, but like Hendrix she had an affinity for animals.

Every farmer knew that your livestock worked hard for you and in return you protected them.

“Dammit.” She slid her feet into her sneakers at the foot of the bed and ran down the stairs, being careful to keep her movement light, because the last thing she needed was to wake up her mom.

When she opened the front door Hendrix wasn’t at the bottom of his steps anymore.

His front door was closed, too. For a second she hoped that Frank had come to him, but then his door opened again and Hendrix ran out.

The light was bright enough for her to see that he was wearing a pair of shorts and sneakers.

No shirt, though he was pulling a raincoat around his shoulders.

“Has Frank taken off?” Emery yelled from her own doorstep. Hendrix frowned at the sound of somebody else outside. Then his gaze fell on her, taking her in.

She was wearing way less than him. Tiny shorts, a camisole, sneakers, and nothing else. At least she had a top on this time.

“Go back inside,” he yelled back.

But of course, she didn’t. She and Frank, they had an understanding. And on the farm, neighbors helped neighbors, no matter if they were asses who had demanded you don’t talk to them.

She grabbed an old raincoat of her dad’s from the hook in the hallway and ran out of the house, pulling the door closed behind her. Her shoes squelched against the path as she went to join Hendrix in the road. A river of rainwater was running down the middle.

“Dammit, I told you to get back inside,” he shouted when she was close. “Just turn around.”

Ignoring him, she pulled her hood over her head. “Where do you think he went?” she yelled. Rain was plastering her face, her hair.

“I’ve no idea. He must have gotten spooked. I got woken up by a loud bang, and when I looked out, the door to the barn was open.”

A spooked animal was the worst kind. “Then I guess we should start looking.” She slid her hand inside the raincoat. “You got a flashlight?” she asked, fiddling with her phone to illuminate the area in front of her.

“Yeah.” He had a bigger one. One of those heavy metal flashlights that you could probably kill somebody with if you needed a blunt instrument.

“We should split up,” she suggested. “I can head toward the pond and you can look on the road.”

“We’re not splitting up. You’re going inside.”

Shaking her head, she started jogging down the road, her feet splashing in the puddles, her skin shivering at the coolness of the water as it clung to her legs. Yes, it was a summer storm, but a few minutes ago she’d been snug as a bug in her bed, not soaked to the bone.

“For fuck’s sake,” Hendrix said behind her. She could hear the thud of his feet catching up with her.

“I’m serious,” she told him. “You need to go the other way. We’ll find him in half the time.”

“And what about you?” he asked. “What if you end up slipping on your ass and getting hurt?”

She rolled her eyes. “Let me worry about me. Where would you go if you were a goat scared for your life?”

He blinked like she’d just asked him the hardest math equation he’d ever heard. “I don’t…”

“Where’s his happy place?”

“In my house.” He lifted a brow.

“Other than that?” Her lips were wet from the rain. Her whole body was. It was pouring down so thick and fast.

“My uncle’s farm. With the other goats.”

“Then go there. I’ll head to the pond because we know he likes it there.” She glanced at her phone. “I’ll meet you back here in twenty minutes.”

“I don’t like this.”

“Nobody said you had to. Now go.” She gestured at him like she’d gesture at Frank. “Seriously, get out of here.”

God, he was as stubborn as she was. But thankfully, after a few seconds of staring at her, he did exactly as she asked, turning on his heel and running down the lane, heading for the main road that led to his uncle’s farm.

As for Emery, she headed back toward the copse of trees. “Frank, you’d better be nice to me after this,” she muttered. But she had a feeling that he’d be exactly the same.

“What’s going on?” his uncle shouted from the doorstep of his own farmhouse.

He’d been out checking on the animals when Hendrix jogged up the road toward the paddock where the goats hung out when the weather was nice.

Tonight, like Frank should have been, they were locked up in their shed.

A glance over at it, through the rain, told him that Frank wasn’t there.

Not unless he’d learned how to pick a lock.

“Frank’s missing,” Hendrix told him. “Have you seen him?”

“No. You sure he came this way?” Uncle Logan asked, frowning.

“No idea,” Hendrix admitted, wiping the rain from his face. “You know what he’s like. It’s like looking for a needle in a haystack.”

“Did you have him secured?”

“He was in the shed. Burst out, I’m guessing the thunder spooked him.”

“Ah hell. And there’s no sign of him at your place?”

Hendrix shook his head. “Not around the house. Emery Reed’s looking for him near the pond.”

“Alice’s girl?”

“That’s her. She heard me shouting. I must have woken her up. She came out to help.”

Logan nodded but said nothing. Like he could hear Hendrix’s unease at leaving her alone.

And yeah, he did feel uneasy. Yes, she’d grown up on a farm – unlike him – and she’d made it clear she could hold her own. He believed her, too, but it still felt wrong. Especially after the way he’d spoken to her earlier.

I just think it would be better if we didn’t talk.

Despite the rain lashing down his mouth felt dry at the memory of her expression when he’d said it. Sure, she’d tried to hide her reaction, but the hurt still molded her features.

Christ, he felt like an ass. Especially since she’d come out in the storm to help him find his goat, even if she had every reason not to.

“I’ll take a look around here,” Logan told him. “You head back to your place. Knowing Frank, he’s probably gotten into your house and started a fire in the fireplace.”

His lips twitched, mostly because he could picture that scene. “Thank you,” he told his uncle. “I appreciate it.”

“It’s what we do here.” His uncle lay his hand on Hendrix’s arm. “We take care of each other.”

Yeah, he was starting to understand that. And maybe it wasn’t so bad after all. Right now, it felt more like a gift than anything else.

Leaving his uncle, he ran back to the road. Mud splashed his legs, rain soaked his clothes. But he didn’t stop until he got to the lane.

And that’s when he saw Emery. Leading Frank back through the last of the trees toward the pasture.

His muscles loosened with relief.

She was almost exactly at the place where he’d first seen her. Half naked, her arm partially covering the curve of her breasts. Then, he’d thought it was funny. And yeah, he’d lusted after her. What full-blooded man wouldn’t? The woman was gorgeous.

But now he felt something different. Something deep in his belly. And he ran as fast as he could toward her, his heart slamming against his chest.

“You found him!” he shouted when he reached her. She was clinging onto Frank’s neck. The goat gave the softest of brays before his knees folded and he collapsed onto the ground.

It felt like Hendrix’s heart fell with him.

“He was in the water,” Emery told him. “He was so scared he was shaking.”

He was still shaking. Hendrix dropped to his knees, stroking Frank’s nose. “It’s okay, buddy. Just a storm.” He looked up at Emery. “You’re shaking too.”

“I had to wade into the pond.”

He winced. “Go home, take a shower. Get yourself warm.” His voice softened. “And thank you. Thank you for finding him.”

“You’re going to need help getting him back to the house,” she said, her voice making it clear she wasn’t going to argue with him.

She looked stubborn and wet and glorious. He felt desire pulse through him.

“I’ll manage.” He squatted down, patting Frank’s nose again. “Hey buddy, we need to get you home,” he murmured, sliding his hands down Frank’s body, one hand curling around his front legs, the other around his back.

Frank was a medium-sized goat. Not huge, but not a baby either. He had heft, and it took Hendrix’s whole strength to lift him. Frank started to protest, and he heard Emery murmur to him, her hand stroking his face as Hendrix came to a stand.

It took all of his concentration to carry Frank across the muddy field, Emery still calming Frank down as they slowly made their way back to the house.

“Nearly there,” she told him. “Where are you going to take him?”

“Into the house.”

“Of course.” She ran ahead of him, opening the door. “Where are your towels?” she shouted.