Girl Gone Viral (Modern Love #2)(75)

Tara didn’t bother to hide her tears. “Hardeep was always very good at helping people in need,” she said.

Katrina visibly swallowed. “Yes.”

Andrés’s shoulders drooped. “You rejected the business. It felt like you were rejecting me, like I had built all this for nothing.”

Jas shot a glance at his silent stepbrother, who gave him a warning look, which he ignored. “You didn’t build it for nothing, though. It’s not like you don’t have an heir who’s eager and willing to take over the whole thing.”

“Jas,” Bikram hissed.

Andrés scowled and turned to his other grandson. “Well, of course I do. But what man doesn’t want two heirs? Hell, it’s only because I have Bikram that I’m still able to run this place. It’s not a one-man job.”

Wait, what?

“Two heirs?” Bikram sat back in his chair.

“Yes.” Andrés’s fearsome scowl grew. “You think Bikram won’t inherit half this farm? What kind of a monster do you all think I am? Bikram is as much my grandson as Jas is. Tara adopted him, he was raised here, he works his ass off for this place. Of course my will is drawn up so you both get equal shares.”

Bikram appeared dazed. “I had no idea. I thought . . . I thought I was just your employee.”

“The hell you are. You should have asked me. You and Jas, together.”

Jas shook his head. “I don’t want any part of the operation. I have this house, and it’s enough. Give the entire farm to Bikram.”

Andrés made a sound like a wounded bear.

“Why does that upset you so?” Katrina asked Andrés.

“I am the farm.”

“No, you’re not,” Jas said, with some exasperation. “You’re a person. The farm is a place. I know your whole identity is tied up in here, but my rejecting the farm is not a rejection of you. I don’t want to be a farmer. I will always want to be your grandson.”

Andrés huffed. “I can’t help how I feel.”

“You can if it means not seeing Jas again. Don’t you think he’d come here more often, stay longer, if he wasn’t terrified you hated him because of his life choices?” Tara snapped.

Andrés’s shoulders lowered. “I . . . is that true, Jas? We’d see you more if I stopped pressuring you?”

The hope in his grandfather’s eyes made Jas feel like a monster. “Yes.” This trip had taught him that the familiarity and happiness of the little house had outweighed the pangs of hurt.

He brushed his leg against Katrina’s under the table and let it rest there. He wouldn’t have come if it hadn’t been for her. This would never have happened without her.

“If I can make accommodations for you, will you consider coming to the ceremony?” his grandfather asked, more humble than Jas had ever seen him.

Jas blew out a breath. He wanted to decline immediately, but he hated to kill the hope on his grandfather’s weathered face. “I’ll think about it,” he managed. It was the best he could do.

He could tell his grandfather wanted to insist, but Tara cut him off. “That’s good enough for now. Grandpa is a reasonable man. Right, Dad?”

Andrés folded his arms over his big chest. “Of course I am.”

Katrina’s fingers stroked over his as she withdrew her hand. It ached, the loss of her touch, but he couldn’t very well grab her hand. He’d already given away too much about their relationship to his too nosy family.

His family stayed later, all of them lingering over coffee. Katrina fit right in, chatting easily with Bikram and Tara now that the most serious topics had been exhausted. Andrés was quiet, but so was Jas.

The only cloud on the horizon came after dinner. Bikram pulled him aside. “Hey, uh . . . I have to talk to you about something.”

“I do, too. I bought you a present. It’s hay. I’ll deliver it tomorrow.”

Bikram squinted at him. “We need to work on your gift-giving. Anyway, two things. Um, I don’t want to step on your toes, but Hasan’s older brother is a therapist. Do you want his number?”

A muscle in Jas’s cheek twitched. “I knew he was a therapist already. Maybe. I’ll think about it.”

Bikram beamed, then sobered. “Okay, second thing: I heard from the Smythes. About Doodle.”

He stiffened. The Smythes were neighbors. “What did they say?”

“One of their dogs ran off a couple months ago. The description sounded like Doodle. They didn’t sound too heartbroken, but they said they’ll take her back if we’d found her.”

Jas glanced at Katrina, who was chatting with his mother. Their heads were bent close together while Katrina carefully measured a portion of sourdough starter out of her jar and into another. Doodle lay on her back on the floor, tongue lolling out of her mouth, pink belly exposed.

If she went back to the Smythes, they’d treat her with benign neglect. For certain, she wouldn’t have a quarter of the affection that Katrina showered upon her and received in return from the mutt.

“Jas?”

Jas pulled his attention away from the domestic scene. “Offer them five grand.”

Bikram’s eyes bulged. “Five thousand dollars?”