All Jacked Up (Rough Riders #8)(91)

Speaking of dream fulfillment…Keely intended to tell Jack she loved him, hoping the last piece of the puzzle of her life would fit into place.


But Jack wasn’t wearing the soft look of a man in love. Jack was absolutely infuriated. And he got right in her face.


“Did you tell Martine we were living together?”


Weird way to start a conversation. “Yes, but—”


“Did you also tell her I had the Milford restoration project ‘wrapped up’?”


“I don’t think I said ‘wrapped up’ but I told her the committee liked your concept—”


“Jesus f*cking Christ, Keely, do you have any idea what the f*ck you’ve done to me? You’ve torpedoed my goddamn career!”


Before Keely defended herself, Jack went off on a tangent.


“I trusted you. And how did you repay that trust? By f*cking me over. Big time. Because Martine somehow hurt your poor little feelings, you just had to open your big mouth and one-up her, didn’t you? By telling her we were living together. By telling her I had the Milford project in the bag. By taunting her that I offered to marry you, when I hadn’t offered to marry her.”


“But I didn’t—”


“Well, guess what, cowgirl? That offer of marriage is off the f*cking table for good.”


Keely’s stomach roiled.


“Now, not only did I lose the goddamn Milford project, my ethics are in question.” Jack jabbed a finger at his chest. “My ethics. Do you know how f*cking hard I’ve worked to keep my reputation impeccable? Now I’m being accused of nepotism.”


“Nepotism?”


“Don’t play stupid. Baxter and Martine are questioning whether I should even be allowed to sign off on this project for you since we’re intimately involved. What do you think the odds are the next call they make is to the Wyoming Department of Historic Preservation? I could get my f*cking certification pulled!


And if I’m pulled in one state, what do you think the odds of me getting pulled in every other state are?


Pretty much f*cking guaranteed.


“Not only that, you told Martine about Carter? How the f*ck do you think that makes me look? Not to mention your brother? Yes, I suggested the Milford committee consider hiring Carter to do a couple of bronzes. Now, I’m being accused of nepotism again, and Carter is going to lose out on a potentially huge f*cking commission. Because of you. How do you think he’ll react when he finds out you f*cked this up for him? You think he’ll be so goddamn eager to leap to his baby sister’s defense every f*cking time I turn around?”


Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Jesus, Keely, stay Wyoming tough.


“Don’t have anything to say for yourself?”


She swallowed hard. Her voice came out softer than usual. “What do you want me to say, Jack?


You’ve got it all figured out. Got all the blame placed. Good for you. Must be nice to be so f*cking perfect.


So goddamn…smug and self-righteous. But the main thing you’re forgetting? Maybe the Milford committee had every right to call your ethics into question.”


He bit off, “What. The. Hell. Are. You. Babbling. About.”


“You set up a fake engagement with me—a woman you professed to hate—just to get a crack at their project. And blame me all you want for your ex-girlfriend having such a big mouth and blabbing your sordid past personal history so your ex-partner could f*ck you over in front of a supposed professional organization, but it’s bullshit and you know it. The bottom line is this: you’d already lost any chance at the contract before you decided to shitcan your ethics and pull one over on the committee. You were so f*cking desperate to spit in their eye when they didn’t consider you good enough or moral enough to even be considered for their precious f*cking project. Did I go along with this charade because I wanted something from you? Yes. Do I feel guilty? No. Because of me and this stupid fake f*cking engagement you concocted, you actually had a shot at getting that all-important, career-boosting, f*cking over Baxter and Martine project. Whereas, before, you didn’t. And maybe it’s irony or poetic justice or whatever you wanna call it that you’re exactly in the same f*cking position now as you were two months ago: no chance in hell of getting what you want.”


Jack laughed harshly. “Listen up and listen good. I won’t be the only one who doesn’t get what I want in this f*cked up situation, because there’s no way in hell I’m ever signing off on this building project, Keely. No. Fucking. Way.”


“I expected nothing less of you, Jack-off.” In angry, jerking movements, Keely tugged off the engagement ring and whipped at his feet as hard as she could. “You’ve got ten minutes to get the f*ck off my property or I will call the cops.”


Keely spun on her bootheel and left without looking back.


Jack picked up the ring and stared at it. He felt none of the vindication he’d expected. In fact, he felt sick to his stomach. Like he’d lost more than a job. He’d lost his dignity. His purpose. His morals. His way.


You lost your way a long time ago, buddy. And now you’ve lost the best thing that ever happened to you. Happy?