had no interest in talking, but... “About what?”
She shrugged. “Whatever.”
“I won’t be your rebellion, little girl.”
She smiled, slow and sure, as if she knew how attracted he was, and that she could get him to turn somersaults just by asking. “I’m eighteen,” she said, “and all grown up, in case you hadn’t noticed.”
Oh, he’d noticed all right. Most girls looked good in their Wranglers, but she took it up a notch. Her rear was round and high, her legs long. And the white T-shirt she wore clung to grown-up breasts.
She laid a hand on his arm. “I apologize, Win. I’m not trying to tease you. Actually, I was thinking you looked like you needed someone to talk to, a friendly ear. I figure things are pretty hard at your place now without your mom.”
“Why would I confide in you?”
“I’m probably the safest person around, don’t you think? I couldn’t tell anyone about it, since we can’t be seen together. I promise it’d be just between you and me.”
He thought about it for a few long seconds. “You know where the grove sits by the river, ’bout four miles from town?”
“I do.”
“I’ll meet you there.”
“Okay.” She left first.
Win followed a couple minutes later, not really expecting her to show up, thinking she’d only been playing a game with him, but she was there.
They’d talked for hours, about anything and everything. She’d cried for his loss, wrapping her arms around him and holding him tight. It’d been his undoing. He tried not to shed any tears in front of her, but she forced him to, made him give in, then ultimately gave him something else to think about when she kissed him.
She looked stunned for a minute, then came back for more. He carried her to his truck and did his best to keep the experience tender for her. They met several times a week after that....
Then she got pregnant, and they’d married in secret—
Win shoved himself away from the boulder and the memories. He got into his truck and headed home, then straight for the bunkhouse. He’d told his father they could talk tomorrow.
Tomorrow would come too soon as it was.
* * *
“I was surprised to see Win in the booth with you,” Mitch said as they drove back to The Barn Yard to unload the supplies.
“People are particularly kind to pregnant women,” Annie said. “And we do business regularly, you know. I like him.”
Mitch glanced past his wife to his sister. “He seems to like you, Jen. At least, he couldn’t take his eyes off you.”
She sniffed. “I have no control over Win Morgan’s eyes.”
Mitch laughed. “What’s that line about a woman protesting too much?”
“No placards being held up here.”
He laid a hand on his wife’s thigh, a small gesture that said so much. Jenny yearned for that kind of connection. She crossed her arms and stared at the passing scenery, feeling achingly alone, especially when Annie moved his hand to her belly and held tight.
“I think we’ve got a soccer player in there,” Mitch said.
Jenny could barely breathe. She’d had a baby inside her once, too, a lifetime ago, it seemed. And then lost it. She’d mourned for a long time. Had Win? Neither of them had said a word about it since she got home, although he might have been about to right after they’d made love in his truck and he’d trailed a finger down her naked body. She’d interrupted him, not wanting to deal with it then. But now? Could they talk about it now?
“Are you okay?” Annie asked as they pulled into the yard at the farm.
“Sure.” Jenny hopped out. Adam and Brody came out of the farmhouse. Between the four of them, they got everything put away in record time.
It was still light out when Mitch dropped off Jenny at the homestead. Her parents had gone to dinner at a friend’s house, but they would probably be home soon. They got up early, so they didn’t keep late hours. She wandered through the house, which held so many good memories. The only big change was some remodeling they’d done a few years back, removing the wall between the kitchen and the dining and living rooms, opening up the space, modernizing the kitchen at the same time.
There were four bedrooms downstairs and four upstairs, including the master bedroom and a guest room. As kids they’d never had to share bedrooms, only bathrooms. It’d been a luxury.
Jenny got into the shower and washed off the day. She felt old. Broken. For years she’d been able to channel her emotions into school and work. Now she was left to face truths without distractions.
It would be so easy to fall into another affair with Win. So easy.
But if she hadn’t learned her lesson the first time, what good was the lesson?
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