Chapter 13
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Jonah
I’d never inspected my ceiling so much in my life, but I was doing a lot of lying in bed, wondering.
My new goddamn pastime with Summer under my roof.
I threaded my hands behind my head. My shoulder was back to aching, thanks to the shoveling.
My hip was fine, but my knee wasn’t happy and my foot was threatening to cause problems too.
I needed a long soak in hot water with my Epsom salt mixture.
But first, I’d have to leave this room. I’d have to find out if Summer had had problems sleeping last night. I’d thought I’d stay awake to listen for creaking stairs, but working outside in a blizzard had taxed me.
Every flake of the snow I’d moved, and a ton more, was back where I had shoveled it, but her car was safe inside.
Why seeing the damn thing in my driveway had bothered me, I didn’t know.
But now I didn’t have to picture her wiping mounds of snow off and scraping windows.
When the weather cleared and the roads were plowed, she could get in and leave.
Several days from now.
The wind was supposed to be a problem through tomorrow. Then more snow was on the horizon. After that, it was wait until the plows could get to us.
Summer and I would be together for days yet.
I got out of bed and let my knee take its time straightening. I rolled my shoulder and went through some gentle warmups and stretches my physical therapist thought I had ignored her about. Years later, I continued to do them if only to stay away from clinics and hospitals and therapists.
I’d take a bath and do some laundry. The power was holding firm, but I didn’t want to let dirty clothing stack up just in case. I left on my sweatpants and grabbed my work clothes from yesterday on the way out the door.
In the hallway, I stopped and listened. No movement. But the sound of deep, steady breathing reached me. I padded to the living room and peered over the back of the couch. My heart twisted.
I hadn’t seen a lot of fairy tales, but Beauty and the Beast had been my mom’s favorite. I had a shit library, but I felt every inch the Beast. Summer had been in her room when I’d eaten a late lunch. She’d stayed up there the entire time, giving me the space I hated her for.
Now she was slumbering on the couch. She’d probably come down when she couldn’t sleep because of the wind. I was in a warm, cozy bed, and she was on the couch with an old gray-and-blue throw Mom had given me for Christmas.
Her pink lips were squashed from half her face being smashed into the pillow she’d brought down from the room. Her sweater was bunched up around her chest but the throw covered any skin that was bared.
I hated the blanket too.
The palm of my hand tingled. The skin of her belly had been so damn soft. Hot in all the right places.
I shook the memory away.
Her feet were bare and sticking out past her one cover. I should grab a bigger blanket—
She was fine. Resolutely, I spun and took my armload to the washroom on the other side of the bathroom. When I turned on the light, I was struck still as lust pounded into my belly.
A lacy bra hung above the dryer and a pair of matching panties were next to it. My mouth went dry, and I got tunnel vision. She wasn’t wearing a bra or underwear?
No, idiot. She’d been stranded with only what she was wearing. Of course she’d had to do laundry.
How had the woman who’d ruined my life and that of my brother managed to burrow under my skin and nestle in a spot my hate could hardly reach? How had she managed to never leave my thoughts after I’d driven her out of the hospital room? Had I known what she was going to tell me?
My chest burned. I needed to take that damn bath, but I also couldn’t relax after seeing the generous cup size of her bra.
I left my laundry on top of the washer and went to my bedroom.
I dug out an Omaha Zoo sweater my parents had gotten me from a trip over the summer and a pair of black sweats I hadn’t thrown away from when I was first discharged from the hospital.
I’d filled out since then, but I hadn’t trashed the sweats.
I laid them on the back of the couch and stood there like a fucking creep watching her sleep. Then, I went into the bathroom to take my bath, and as much as I swore to myself that I wouldn’t, I jacked off to the thought of her not wearing underwear.
Summer
I’d found a game cabinet in the small upstairs library between the top of the stairs and the guest room.
A small cupboard held some of the board games my family used to play during storms. I’d left Monopoly alone, because fuck that game.
I could run a distillery, but I could barely get around the board to collect my cash once.
I’d bypassed Connect 4, Scrabble, and checkers for the single deck of cards.
Now I was playing solitaire on the floor of my room.
Yesterday, Jonah had been heading outside, but I’d bitten his head off.
Don’t you dare spend another day in a storm avoiding me.
I’ll go upstairs. And I’d pounded up the stairs like I’d gotten busted sneaking extra cookies after bedtime.
My outburst had worked. Jonah had stayed inside yesterday.
The wind had died down. I was swimming in his sweater and black sweats, but my original clothing was clean. I just had to change into them. And wash my underwear again. We didn’t accumulate a ton of dirty clothes between us, but I’d wash all the bedding while I was here to stay in clean underwear.
I found a spot for my five of spades. I’d been playing cards and listening to true crime podcasts for three hours. If the power went out, I was screwed.
My phone rang, and the jolt of excitement it caused was shameful. I was so bored.
Yet did I regret bringing groceries and getting stranded? No. Jonah had needed to know everything.
Wynter’s name lit up my screen. My heart stuttered while I rushed to answer. She never called if she could help it. I usually rang her if she ignored too many texts. “Oh my god, if you’re calling to tell me you’re in labor, I’m going to march through the snow and straight to the hospital.”
Her laughter tinkled through the line. “No baby yet.” Her sigh was full of disappointment. “I really wanted to spare this child a winter birthday.”
“You’re not due for two more weeks. You could go long enough until it’s technically spring.”
“Too long,” she groaned. “I’m uncomfortable and bored and I need to talk to a calm voice. Myles is uptight and climbing the walls.”
“Anxious he’s going to be delivering his firstborn?”
“Yes. I love him, but he doesn’t need to be seeing my insides.” She dropped her voice. “Do you know how many moms poop when giving birth?”
I giggled. “It’s natural.”
“Ugh. Scarlett’s talked me down once this week.”
Tate’s wife was the only one of us to have had kids. We weren’t close to Tate’s first wife, so my nephew Chance’s birth announcement had been little more than a text with a photo. Scarlett had ordered Tate to blow up our phones with pictures and updates of Brinley and Darin.
“Help me take my mind off giving birth in a blizzard,” Wynter said.
“One, you are not a cow. You don’t need to calve during a storm.”
She laughed. “It’s the rancher’s kid in me, that’s why I’m due in the spring.”
“Not my fault you followed the insemination schedule,” I said primly, smiling. I cleaned up my cards. I’d lost the game. “Did you talk to Autumn?”
“Yes, but you know she wouldn’t spill anything you told her.”
I rolled my eyes. “But she told you there was something.”
“I have my ways. Does Jonah really hate you?”
“Maybe.” I couldn’t give her a resounding no, and that broke my heart. “He can’t help but take care of me, but he doesn’t like me, that’s for sure.”
“It’s not for sure. Emotions are complicated, and you’re still recovering from the breakup.”
It took me a moment to realize she wasn’t talking about Eli. Cool humiliation washed through me. I’d been about to marry Boyd mere weeks ago and now thinking about him was a nuisance.
“Well, I guess your silence says a lot about how hung up on Boyd you are.” She snorted. “Boyd who? That’s the way it should be.”
“I wish it were that easy. I broke up with Eli because I had a thing for Jonah and he knew it, and now Jonah knows it too.”
“Shit.” Shuffling came from the other end, like she was getting comfortable for a long talk. “It’s not your fau—”
“Everyone can say that but it doesn’t make it true.” If it were true, then I would’ve gotten over it and Jonah would be talking to me. “It doesn’t make Jonah dislike me less.”
“You think the man who barely leaves his house but went to your wedding and then rescued you from said wedding dislikes you?”
“Maybe he wanted to see me married off.”
“Maybe he’s a fan of torturing himself.”
Well, that was likely true, but this was different.
“Myles was a lot like Jonah,” she said thoughtfully.
She’d hidden the fact that she’d been working for Myles. Then he’d come to Bourbon Canyon for Daddy’s funeral, and the jig was up. I didn’t know what had gone on between them in Denver, but I knew how she’d gotten him to stay. “I’m not having sex with Jonah to get him to talk to me.”
She chortled. “I sucked his dick first to loosen him up.”
“TMI!”
“I bet it’d work.”
I summoned as much irritation as possible to combat the naughty images in my mind. Me on my knees staring up at Jonah and his jaw granite hard because my mouth was wrapped around his— “This is serious.”
“It is,” she said, her teasing tone gone. “But guys like Myles and Jonah don’t respond to chitchat or talking about feelings, so it’s going to take a hell of a shock to get him to open up to you.”
“He doesn’t have to though. That’s the thing. We’re nothing to each other. Eli was the only thing linking us.” Now his death connected us in a way that couldn’t be severed. “Enough about Jonah. He’s as stubborn as the mountain he lives on. What are you doing for Easter?”
“Hopefully, I’ll be overtired and taking care of a newborn.”
I was glad I would be close. Bozeman wasn’t a long drive, but in the winter, being able to plan a trip was harder. I might be stuck at Jonah’s but at least I was in Bourbon Canyon, around most of my family again.
“But I’ll be at Mama’s with everyone else,” Wynter continued. “She didn’t want Tate and Scarlett to feel pressured to host and she wants to make sure Lane and Cruz stick around.”
Mama thrived on the bustle of the holidays and having her family around. This year would be the second without Daddy, and we’d let her do whatever she wanted. “I should be out of here by next week.”
“Hopefully by next week he won’t want to let you go.”
“Enough, Wynter. Go tame your guy with that blow job you’re so proud of.”
“I have reason to be proud. Ten-out-of-ten skill level. He nailed a national distribution deal right after. The trick is—”
I growled out a “Goodbye” and hung up.
What I absolutely did not do was stay on long enough to find out what that trick was.