Page 8 of That One Night (The Heartbreak Brothers Next Generation #4)

Her mom had found the paperwork in an envelope in her dad’s dresser. She’d handed it to Emery, her eyes full of embarrassment. And for the last hour she’d seethed every time she looked at it.

“Hello to you too. How are you?” His voice was smooth.

“The loan?” she asked again. “Why did you give them so much money without telling me?”

Because now she knew how much it was in total. Just shy of eighty thousand dollars.

“Your parents asked me not to,” Trenton replied, echoing her mom’s words of earlier. “It was all going to be written off once we were married. And once I took control of my trust fund,” Trenton continued. “Now that’s changed, of course.”

“I’m going to need you to sign the lien away,” she told him. “We need it closed before I can put the farm on the market.”

“You want me to sign it away before it’s repaid?” he asked. There was a frown in his tone.

“Yes. We’ll pay the money back once the farm is sold.”

“But how do I know you’ll do that?” he asked her.

Annoyance rushed through her. “Because I’m giving you my word.”

“You also gave your word that you’d marry me,” he pointed out. “And look what happened there.”

“And you agreed to be faithful,” she retorted. It was one thing agreeing to do this stupid charade just to keep their parents happy. Another to know he held something over her mom. “Please don’t be difficult,” she said softly. “I just need this thing to be resolved.”

“I’m not being difficult. I’m a businessman. Speaking of which, I’m late for a meeting.”

“Trenton…” she started to argue back, but he’d already hung up. All that was left was a buzzing on the line and the fury rushing through her body.

Letting out a sharp cry, she threw her phone onto the floor, the crack of plastic against hardwood echoing through the quiet room.

Her chest heaved as she paced across the kitchen, fists clenched at her sides. Every part of her was shaking with anger and frustration.

She’d bent over backward not to cause waves. Stayed quiet to protect her mom. Agreed to a lie that made her sick.

And Trenton was still holding all the power.

“I should have gone to Europe,” she muttered, hating this tangled web of lies that she was caught up in.

Because right now, she had no idea how to get out of this mess.

As she picked up her phone she saw the stupid list stuffed into the back of it between her phone and the case. She’d been looking at it earlier, mostly because Maisie had messaged her from Edinburgh, telling her that she’d decided to stay and marry a Scotsman.

She was joking, or at least Emery thought she was, but it still made her feel wistful. Like the world was going on without her. And here she was, stuck in a mess that felt impossible to get out of.

That’s when she saw it. The most easily attainable thing on her friend’s list. And the one that she needed to do right now.

3. Get drunk at least once.

Hendrix peeled off his sweat-soaked shirt and slung it over his shoulder as he climbed down from the roof, muscles burning, chest slick and golden in the dying sunlight. Another repair done. A hundred more to go.

The land still needed prepping. Trenches needed to be dug, soil was waiting to be balanced, and he had a list of crops he planned to buy for fall.

But tonight his body had hit its limit. Dust clung to his skin, his jeans were stuck to his thighs, and the only thing he wanted more than a shower was a cold beer on the porch.

A goat’s bleat sounded in the distance.

“Don’t start, Frank,” he muttered. “You’re not the one hammering nails in ninety-degree heat.”

He stepped onto the porch, cracked open the screen door, and grabbed a beer from the fridge. Popping the cap, he wandered back underneath the wooden overhang, tipping his head back to take a long, satisfying mouthful of beer, the ice cold liquid soothing his overheated body.

The kind of peace you only got in a small town wrapped around him like dusk.

Frank gave a little bray.

“What’s up, bud?” Hendrix asked. But then he saw what the goat was looking at.

A very determined Emery Reed was walking across the lane that separated her farm from his. She was wearing a pair of shorts that exposed her smooth, tan legs, and a t-shirt she’d tied up at the waist to expose a thin sliver of her taut stomach.

“Be good,” Hendrix murmured to Frank. “We don’t want to make the pretty lady mad tonight.”

Truth was, as she got closer, he could see there was already a frown on her face. What had he done this time? He’d barely seen her all week.

“If you’re coming to talk about Frank, whatever he’s done isn’t my fault,” he told her as she reached the bottom of the stairs. Frank, deciding to be a gentleman for once, stepped aside so she could walk up them.

She tipped her head to the side. “I didn’t come about the goat.” She let out a sigh. “I just wondered if you had a beer you could spare. My mom keeps a sober household.”

He blinked, because he hadn’t expected that. “Yeah, I’ve got a beer you can have.” He walked inside and grabbed another bottle from the refrigerator. When he came out, she was sitting in one of the chairs on his porch, tickling Frank beneath the chin.

“There you go.” He passed the open bottle to her.

“Thank you,” she muttered, then took a long swig from the rim. By the time she stopped swallowing, almost half the bottle was gone.

“Bad day?” he asked her.

“Something like that.”

He took one of the other chairs, letting his long legs stretch out in front of him. “Want to talk about it?”

She shook her head. “Not really.” She sighed, like she had the weight of the world on her shoulders. Then she looked at him, their eyes catching. “Do you ever wish you could go back in time and make different decisions?”

The corner of his lip quirked. “I don’t think that deeply.” It was a lie, but the last thing he wanted to talk about were all his bad choices. Especially with her, the woman who seemed to have it all together.

She looked around at the fields stretching into the distance. The light was waning, the sun an orange ball skimming the edge of the horizon. “Don’t you ever get lonely out here?” she asked him.

He shrugged. “I don’t have time to think about being lonely.”

“But this is what you want? Your own farm?”

“Yeah.” He nodded. “I like working outside. Being in charge of my own time.” He took another mouthful of beer, noticing she’d almost finished hers. “Anyway, it’s hard to get lonely when you’re related to half the town.”

She nodded, frowning like she was taking his words in. “Is it nice having a big family?”

“Sometimes.” He smiled softly. “It was fun growing up, being surrounded by my brothers and cousins.”

“And now?”

“It’s good, as long as they’re not poking their noses where they aren’t wanted.” He loved them all fiercely. But yeah, they could be nosey assholes when they wanted to be. “Are you lonely?” he asked her, more because he didn’t want to talk about himself than actually being interested in her answer.

She ran the tip of her tongue over her bottom lip. It was fuller than her top lip. Shaped like a perfect bow. “I’m an only child. Nearly everybody I went to school with has moved away. It’s strange,” she told him. “My mom has more friends here than I do.”

“What about your fiancé? Won’t he be coming to visit?” His jaw tightened at the thought of that ass. “Or are you going back home soon?”

“I’m staying for the summer,” she told him. “Getting the farm ready to sell. And no, Trenton won’t be coming here. He’s busy.” Weird how she didn’t seem to sound like she cared a whole lot about that.

And what guy was too busy to spend time with the woman he was marrying? That was messed up. But it also wasn’t his business. If Montclair wanted to neglect his fiancée, that was his problem.

“How about you?” she asked him. “Do you have a girlfriend?” Her words were a little slower. Like the beer was having more of an effect on her than it should.

“Nope.” His reply came out in a long two syllables.

Their gazes locked and it sent a jolt through him. He could see the interest in her eyes. The same kind of curiosity he saw in his cousins and brothers every time they wanted to know every damn detail of his life.

Hendrix Hartson. Family fuck up. Always entertaining.

“Can I have another beer?” she asked him. “Actually, do you have anything stronger? Maybe whiskey?”

He wanted to laugh. “No, I don’t have whiskey.” And if he did, he wouldn’t give it to her. She was so obviously a lightweight. “One more beer. That’s it. Then I’m cutting you off.”

It took him a minute to grab two more bottles, getting rid of the old ones in the recycling bin. This time when he came back out, she was on her phone, tapping on the screen as Frank lay at her feet.

“Everything okay?” he asked, handing her the bottle.

“Everything’s good.” She took a sip, a smaller one this time. “Have you ever stayed up all night talking to somebody?”

He started to laugh. “Where did that come from? And no, I’ve never stayed up all night talking. I like my sleep too much. And I can’t be exhausted and work with farm equipment.”

She nodded. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.” She took another mouthful, then let out a sigh. “Damn stupid list.”

“What was that?”

“Nothing.” She smiled a little hazily at him. And for the first time he noticed she wasn’t wearing her engagement ring. Her eyes caught his, and he pulled his gaze away quickly.

But not before something passed between them.

Something that felt suspiciously like trouble.

Woo hoo at getting another item ticked off. So did you ask him about staying up talking all night? – Maisie

I tried. But he made it obvious it was a no go. I’m not sure why I’m doing this stupid list, anyway. – Emery

Because you know it’s good for you. And you love me. And I need entertainment when I’m on the sleeper train to Vienna and the people in the next bunk are singing football songs. Maybe you should try number seven with him. – Maisie.

Shut up. And go to sleep. I’ve already ticked two off the list. That’s one a week on average. I’m killing this thing. – Emery

I knew you would. I should have kept number seven as it was. – Maisie

I’m glad you didn’t. You know I don’t like to fail. – Emery

Exactly. – Maisie