his left hand.
To show her the ring he was wearing.
“Not engaged,” Brantley clarified. “April and I are married.”
SOPHIE’S THROAT SNAPPED SHUT, and that’s why she was surprised she’d managed to make a sound. Unfortunately, the sound that came out of her mouth was profanity. Stupid, G-rated profanity.
Turd on a turkey.
It wasn’t the right thing to say, of course. Not just now but in any situation whatsoever. Nor was it good for her to have what was no doubt a thunderstruck look on her face. She should have steeled up, put on the best mask she could muster and pretended that Brantley hadn’t just ripped out her heart. Clearly, she’d failed at that.
“I know this is a surprise,” Brantley continued.
He didn’t continue talking, though, because Clay came back toward them and got right in Brantley’s face. And Clay cursed, too. His profanity was a lot better suited to the situation than Sophie’s.
“That’d better be a fucking joke, you dickhead piece of shit,” Clay growled.
Brantley lowered his hand, dropped back a step, and his eyes widened. He looked genuinely surprised that Clay was upset with his news. That took some of the spotlight off her, and Sophie used that time to try to get control of her emotions.
“Uh, I thought April told you,” Brantley said to Clay.
Sophie moved to Clay’s side but not too close. He looked ready to implode. A first. Every other time she’d seen him, he’d been cucumber-cool. Now he was more like lava-hot.
“No, she didn’t tell me,” Clay answered. He whipped out his phone, no doubt to call his sister, but he was gripping it so hard she was surprised it didn’t shatter. He also didn’t make the call. Maybe because his grip was too tight to make his fingers work. “How the hell did this happen?” he snarled.
Even though Brantley likely wanted to drop back another step, he held his ground. “I love April,” he said.
All in all, it was a good answer. Possibly the best one he could have given a new brother-in-law who looked ready to rip off every protruding part of Brantley’s body.
Brantley turned to Sophie. “You knew how I felt about April,” he added.
“Uh, no I didn’t.”
But Sophie certainly knew how she felt. The ache came. And thankfully vanished because the anger roared in behind it to push it away.
“I didn’t know,” Sophie stated, but she had to do it through a clenched jaw. Though her jaw was practically slack compared to Clay’s.
“I told you,” Brantley insisted, “when I called you...well, a few hours after we were supposed to be married.”
Sophie remembered the call that had come in while she’d been at the office. She’d hung up on Brantley but not before he’d said something she hadn’t caught.
“You mentioned a belt,” she offered.
Brantley shook his head and seemed confused before an aha look went through his eyes. “I didn’t say belt. I said bolt as in lightning bolt. Because that’s the way I felt when I first saw April. It was love at first sight. Real love,” he tacked on as if it might help.
It didn’t. It didn’t help Sophie with her anger, and judging from the way Clay looked, it didn’t help him, either.
“Real love?” Clay repeated. His voice had a dangerous edge to it that sent Sophie’s pulse skittering. “My sister’s barely out of one bad marriage. She doesn’t need another one. Her boys don’t need another one.” The edge in his voice had gone up a notch.
“This isn’t a bad marriage,” Brantley argued. He huffed. “Look, I didn’t think this news would be such a shock. In fact, I thought it’d be welcome now that Sophie and you are seeing each other. Sophie has moved on, and that’s a good thing.”
Oh, if only that were true. Then again, she had moved on from the raging anger to wanting to throw that turdy turkey at him. But that probably wasn’t the direction Brantley was looking for her to go. Nor was it the direction Clay was taking.
Clay’s index finger landed on Brantley’s chest. “If you hurt my sister or my nephews, this badge will come off and I will make you pay. In fact, I might make you pay even if you don’t hurt them.”
It didn’t sound like a bluff, but Brantley didn’t have time to call him on it. Garrett came strolling out of one of the nearby barns, cursed, his profanity waffling on the air so they caught every word, and made a beeline toward them.
Great. Now, he’d get involved. At least she wasn’t crying, though. Maybe it would stay that way.
As Garrett got closer, Sophie caught his usual scent. A mixture of bullshit from his boots, sweat and the woodsy aftershave he sometimes remembered to use on the days he remembered to shave. It was hit or miss, but he’d hit today, and there was the added aroma of leather from his saddle. Heaven knew where he’d been riding, but he was always looking for any excuse to be anywhere but inside his office.
“It’s true?” Garrett snarled, looking not at Clay or her but at Brantley. “You’re married? Meredith told me,” he added to Sophie before she could ask how he’d found out.
Meredith, Garrett’s wife. Apparently, the gossip flow had taken the direct route to her. Ironic since Meredith spent more time at her dad’s house in Austin than she did at the ranch, but she did spend more time on the phone than Sophie did.
Brantley bobbed his head in a series of nods, a motion that mimicked the movement of his Adam’s apple. He lobbed some very concerned glances between her brother and Clay as if debating which of these two were about to end his existence on Earth. It was a toss-up, but since she didn’t want either to go to jail, she stepped between them.
“Yes, Brantley is married,” Sophie volunteered. “And he was just leaving.”
“No, he wasn’t,” Clay argued. “Not until he explains to me what the hell he was thinking by marrying my kid sister.”
“And when the shit bag is done explaining that, he can tell me why he jilted my kid sister.” That from Garrett. “You’ve been dodging me. Lawson, too. And it’s high time you grew a pair and manned up about why you did this.”
Brantley looked at her as if she might have the answers to prevent him from getting a butt-whipping. She did. Well, she had answers to her brother’s question. Brantley hadn’t loved her. Not enough, anyway. But while that was true, it might not stop said butt-whipping.
This was what she’d tried to avoid that day at the police station, and part of her knew she had to grow her own pair and stop it from happening now.
“I have moved on with my life,” Sophie said to no one in particular and hoped they didn’t ask for proof of that. She also hoped this next part didn’t stick in her throat. “Brantley did
