Page 29 of That One Night (The Heartbreak Brothers Next Generation #4)

Chapter

Twenty-Three

Taking a deep breath, Emery picked up the phone and pressed on the phone symbol next to Trenton’s name, counting the seconds until it inevitably went to voicemail.

Her mom had barely paid her any attention when she’d walked back inside an hour ago. She was nursing a hangover, of all things. The woman who never drank had managed to get through three glasses of punch last night before she realized it was spiked.

“Didn’t you ask?” Emery had said, trying not to smile, because her mom looked horrified.

“No. I assumed the sign next to it was true.”

“What did the sign say?”

“ Drink me and be happy. Very, very happy .” Her mom frowned.

“And that didn’t give you a clue that it was spiked?”

Her mom groaned, putting her palm against her brow. “No. Why would anybody add alcohol to a perfectly good punch?”

Emery had suggested her mom rest, so she was laying upstairs, a cold compress on her head.

Which was a good thing. Because she didn’t need to overhear this call.

“You’ve reached Trenton Montclair. Leave a message.”

The sound of his voice was enough to make her grit her teeth. But she wasn’t going to let the fact that he was obviously still avoiding her stop her from doing what she needed to do.

He’d called the shots from the start. Looking back, from the moment they’d started dating there’d been a power imbalance between them.

He’d been slightly older and a lot more sophisticated, with the money and social class that came from being born into a long established family.

And she’d been the young, na?ve farm girl.

He’d managed to pick away at her confidence bit by bit.

Suggesting he take over their finances because she could make mistakes.

Overruling her suggestions on where they should go to eat or on vacation.

Making suggestions that she’d be more attractive if she ate less or if she talked less when he took her out to dinner with a client.

She’d made herself so small for him that she felt like she’d disappeared.

But she wasn’t going to do that anymore. And it wasn’t even like she was disturbing him at work. It was a Saturday. Plenty of time for him to get used to what she had to say.

“This is Emery,” she told him, her voice clear as she spoke down the phone.

“I want you to know that the deal is off. I’m tired of lying to people to make your life easier.

I’ll be telling my mom next week that our engagement is over.

I suggest you do the same with your parents.

” She paused, her heart racing. “And I expect you to sign off the lien. Because I’m putting the farm up for sale on Monday. ”

She ended the call, knowing that Trenton would be furious when he listened to it. But that wasn’t her problem. Not anymore. She wasn’t his verbal punching bag. It wasn’t her job to make his life easier.

Her only concern was herself and the people she loved. And that didn’t include Trenton, not anymore.

It might include the man who’d held her all night, though.

His mom had left about twenty minutes after Emery arrived home. Not that she was looking.

Okay, she was totally looking. Maddie Hartson hadn’t looked upset with her son. She’d hugged him on the stoop and walked away, a smile on her lips. Five minutes later she’d seen Hendrix get on his motorcycle and leave – presumably to catch up on the work he’d missed by sleeping in.

He’d sent her a message, though. Probably when he was taking his first break.

Did you make it home without your mom noticing? By the way, you’re hot when you’re sneaking around. – Hendrix

She liked the way his messages sounded exactly like him. He’d told her he typically used voice to text to reply. It was easier than trying to work through his dyslexia with his fingers.

So she’d started replying to his texts with a voice message. Her lips curled as she whispered into her microphone. “You’re pretty beautiful yourself.”

It took a minute for him to reply.

“Nobody’s ever called me beautiful before.” His voice was thick.

That made her heart tighten. It was funny, because they could probably call each other rather than message. Since they were both so clearly on their phones right now. But there was something special about this. The way she could save his voice notes and listen to them when she was alone.

“Then you’d better get used to it, buddy.”

They messaged a couple more times before he told her he needed to get back to work. But not before he sent her one last voice recording.

“What time can you get to mine later?”

“Not until late. I need to wait until my mom’s gone to bed.” She smiled at that. “I’ll come over as soon as I’m free.”

This time his reply was typed. Like there was somebody around listening.

Good. – Hendrix

And yes it was. Very, very good.

It was almost seven by the time he’d gotten all his work done. It had been a scorching hot day, too, the sun so strong that despite the fact he’d worn a cap and sunscreen, his skin had still turned a deeper gold.

Hendrix showered, ate some dinner, and went out to the yard to check on Frank.

The goat was laying underneath a tree on the dusty grass, his legs folded beneath him.

When he spotted Hendrix walking over to fill his trough, he slowly rose to his hooves, then walked over, nuzzling Hendrix in the stomach.

“Hey buddy.” He tickled the goat beneath his jaw. “You have the right idea. When it’s this hot, the only thing to do is lay in the shade on the grass.”

The goat let out a little bray, then ambled over to his food trough, sniffing at it before he dipped his head to scoop some pellets into his mouth. None of the farm animals had been active today. Unlike humans, they knew to rest when the sun started to beat down in the middle of summer.

He spent the next hour sitting on his deck, on the porch swing. His legs gently rocked it back and forth as he drank a bottle of beer and stared out into the distance, thinking about last night and this morning. The way it had felt so damn good to wake up with Emery in his arms.

And the way his mom’s face looked when she’d discovered them made him feel like he was that bad kid, again. Making her cry.

You’re pretty beautiful, too.

The memory of Emery’s voice on his phone made his chest ache.

It wasn’t a lie. Nobody had called him beautiful before.

He wasn’t an idiot. Physically, he knew he was doing okay.

Mostly thanks to his genes and the hard, unrelenting, physical work of being a farmer that sculpted his body more than any gym could.

And yeah, he’d never had any problems attracting women. If anything, they liked the way he didn’t give a damn about life. The way he was casual. Hard to keep.

Women liked the chase as much as men. More sometimes.

Not Emery, though. She was like the firefly etched on her ankle. Breathtaking to look at. Impossible to capture.

Twenty minutes later, like his mind had tried to conjure her up, he noticed her walking onto the porch to get something. Her head was inclined and her lips were moving, like she was talking to her mom inside the house.

And then she saw him on his own porch, watching her. And stopped, her hand in mid air.

He swallowed hard, unable to tear his eyes away from this woman. Her hair had taken on a curl from the heat, tumbling around her shoulders in waves.

She’d changed into a dress. Was that for him? For later? Styled her hair, too. Stupid how much he liked that thought, but he did. His heart slammed against his chest, all thoughts of their moms pushed away.

He didn’t care what anybody else thought. He wanted her like he’d never wanted anything else. But more than that, he wanted to be good for her. Not the man everybody else thought he was.

Hendrix Hartson. Town bad boy. Keep your daughters locked up.

Emery’s mom said something to her, and she nodded, but he could see her gaze was still on him. He grinned at her, because fuck, he was the luckiest man around.

His breath caught as she smiled back. A small, half-curl, secretive kind of smile.

The kind of smile that held a promise of more.

Then her mom said something else, and Emery pulled her gaze from his, lifting her hand as though to wave goodbye, as she turned her back to him.

And that’s when he knew. He’d do anything for her. Including tell her the truth of who he was. Because if she was going to make sacrifices for him, she deserved for him to do the same.

He felt like he was falling. And he had no idea if he could stop.

Or if he wanted to.

“I think I’m going to head up to bed,” Emery’s mom told her an hour later. They were only half way through the movie they’d been watching, but her mom’s eyes were half-closed. “Can we watch the rest of this tomorrow?”

“Good idea,” Emery said. “Hopefully, you’ll feel better in the morning.”

“Fingers crossed. All I know is that I’m never going to drink Mary-Ellen’s special punch ever again. That thing is bad for my health.” Her mom let out a sigh. “Will you be okay to check on the chickens and lock everything up tonight?”

“Of course.” Emery looked at her watch. “I might go out for a nice long walk now that it’s cooling down.”

Her mom nodded. “Don’t stay out too late.”

As soon as she heard the creak of her mom’s bedroom floorboards, followed by the groan of the springs in her mattress, Emery slid her feet into her sandals and checked herself in the mirror by the door.

She’d put on a dress and curled her hair while her mom had napped earlier. Her mom had said something about her always looking nice in a dress, but hadn’t asked her why she had one on.

The truth was, she wanted to look pretty. Wanted to dress up. She’d never felt more feminine than she did now that she’d finally taken control of her life. She felt powerful and attractive.

And stupidly hot at the thought of being in Hendrix’s arms again. The man made her ache from the inside out.

The chickens had put themselves to bed in the coop earlier, as tired of the heat as she was.

They barely looked up when Emery peeked her head around the door to check on them.

Opening the little boarded window above the door, so the night air could provide some ventilation, she topped up their water with some ice cubes from the outdoor freezer, then locked the door closed behind her, turning her head to make sure her mom’s curtains were closed.

They were.

Frank didn’t even lift his head when she walked past him. So instead she reached down to ruffle his fur. “Hey cutie.”

He lifted an eyelid, then closed it again, like he was way more interested in sleeping than flirting with her tonight.

Anticipation raced through her as she lifted her hand and rapped her knuckles on his door. She’d barely pulled her hand away before the door was wrenched open and Hendrix scooped her into his arms, making her giggle as he carried her inside like he was some kind of Neanderthal.

“Is this how you greet all your visitors?” she asked him, loving the way his hard muscled arms held her tightly against his chest. Her sandals fell from her feet, clattering on his wooden floor.

He grinned at her. He was freshly shaved, in a pair of jeans and a clean t-shirt. Her stomach did a little twist at just how handsome this man was.

“I don’t get a lot of visitors,” he told her. “So no.”

“Your mom was here this morning,” she pointed out.

“And you know I didn’t pick her up like this.

” He pressed his mouth against hers, like he couldn’t stop himself from kissing her.

His happiness at seeing her was so plain on his face.

“Do you know how much I hate you having to sneak over here?” he asked her, gently letting go of her so her feet were back on the ground.

“You want me to go home?” she teased, reaching up to muss his hair.

He shook his head. “I just want to be able to come over and pick you up. It doesn’t feel right that you have to make sure nobody sees you walking over.”

“You can do that next week,” she told him.

“Won’t your mom get suspicious?”

She took a deep breath. “I called Trenton today. Told him I’m sick of this. I’m telling Mom it’s over on Monday. And after that, I don’t care who finds out.”

He blinked, looking pleased. “How did he take that?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. He didn’t answer so I left him a voicemail.” Her eyes met his. “But I don’t care, either.”

That was the truth. She couldn’t make everybody in the world happy. No matter how good she tried to be. All she could worry about were the people she allowed into her life.

People like her mom, who’d get over the upset. And Hendrix, who right now was reaching for her, pulling her into his arms and kissing her until her legs felt weak.

“And you’re okay with people knowing about us?” he asked her when they finally parted to get some air.

“I’m absolutely okay with it.” She jutted her chin out and a smile played at his lips.

“When did you get so damn brave?”

“I guess staying here has given me a lot of time to think. About what I want in life. About how I’m the only one who’s been holding me back.” Her eyes met his. “I know this thing between us is still at the beginning. And I know me going back to work next month will complicate things.”

“It won’t complicate things. Charleston isn’t that far away.”

“Far enough when you’re a farmer,” she murmured. She took a breath. “But if you want me…”

“Of course I want you.” His eyes were dark. “There’s no question about that.”

“Then we can try to make it work. Long distance or…”

“Or?” Hendrix prompted.

She pressed her lips together. “I don’t know. There are schools everywhere. I’m not tied to Charleston.”

He cupped her face with his hands, leaning in to press his warm mouth against her brow. “You’d move back here for me?” he asked, his voice thick.

“I’d consider it. And for my mom.”

This time when they kissed, she could feel the ache rush through her. The need for him, so hot and thick inside of her, felt like it was almost impossible to ignore.

“Wait,” he murmured, as she pulled at his t-shirt. “I want to say something, too.”

“Is it bad?” she asked him.

“No.” He paused. “Well yes. But not the way you think it is. I just wanted to tell you. About me.”

Oh . That made her heart slam against her chest. “What do you want to tell me about you?” she murmured, noticing how his eyes didn’t leave hers.

“Everything.”