River's End (River's End Series, #1)(38)

“Don’t you ever come here?” she asked finally.

“Sure when it’s a hundred degrees out to swim. But not with quite the appreciation you seem to have.”

She processed the image. Jack swimming? Jack relaxing on a beach? Jack without his signature frayed jeans and worn cowboy boots? His concession to warm weather seemed to be a t-shirt. She couldn’t imagine him relaxing, or worse, in a pair of shorts.

She finally shrugged. “You grew up here. You probably don’t know what a gift this place is.”

His gaze narrowed on her and he said quietly, “I know what this place is. I just didn’t expect someone like you would.”

Someone like her? What was it about her that so set Jack off? What made him think she was some kind of crack whore who was always jonesing for more drugs?

She turned away and looked at the river. “So why did you come to find me? Do you want me to leave tomorrow?”

“I talked to Charlie and he told me what happened. What really happened. You don’t really think I’m so gullible I believed Charlie, do you? Oh wait, judging by your reaction, I think you must have.”

“So tomorrow,” she said, her voice sounding determined and her face stoically placid. She would not look at him. She would not cry. She would not beg him to let her stay there. Or keep her safe. Or let her be there another day.

“I haven’t fired Chance yet. So unless you feel like leaving, I have no intention of evicting you.”

She let out a breath and looked up at him sharply. “You’re not kicking me out?”

“No.”

“Not yet,” she clarified.

He frowned. “Okay, not yet.”

She nodded. Good. She needed to keep it real. She had to keep the reality in her brain that was quickly going soft whenever she pretended she could stay there. As if her world could ever be that stable or secure.

“Charlie’s punishment is apologizing to you. Why don’t you come up to the house for dinner tonight?”

She stepped back and almost fell into the sand. Jack Rydell had just invited her to his house? She looked up at him, and her eyes narrowed. He was making his son apologize to her. She couldn’t believe it.

“Ms. Poletti, did you hear me?”

She nodded. Finally, she found her voice. “Yes. Are you sure?”

“About what? That Charlie can’t lie and yell because he feels like it? Yeah, I’m sure.”

“I mean about me coming to dinner?”

“Yeah. Why? Is that a problem?”

“No. Not at all. I just didn’t expect it. He really doesn’t have to apologize. He was upset, and it wasn’t about me. I just happened to be there. I get that.”

“He’ll apologize.”

Jack looked at her for a moment, then turned and left the beach. Erin collapsed into the cool sand. Holy shit. She wasn’t homeless yet. And she was going to dinner. With Jack.





Chapter Twelve


Jack looked up when he heard the soft knocking on the door. It was so loud in the living room, with his brothers and Ben watching a movie, that he almost didn’t hear the timid, little tapping of Erin’s knuckles. Getting up to open the door, he felt a strange hitching in his gut, somewhere in the center of his chest.

Erin stood there, nearly as small as Charlie. Her head didn’t even hit him mid-chest. Her hair spiraled around her face before it was collected at the back of her neck. Her eyes looked big and deep under the porch light. She wore a skirt. One of those annoying, flouncy skirts that brushed over her legs. He hadn’t seen one of those since her first few days here. He thought she wore the ridiculous get-ups to attract his and his brothers’ attention. Now he was starting to think she really had nothing better to wear.

He was staring at her. Jack realized it, but only after a prolonged moment of his eyes studying her from her head to her toes. He stepped aside and let her in. She walked through, sliding her arms out of Joey’s jacket as she passed. He stared again. It was one of those shirts. A scooped-neck thing that dipped as she took the coat off. She quickly adjusted the neckline so it was higher up, but not before he glimpsed a peek of her magenta-colored, lace bra.

He shut the door to get his eyes off her smooth, white skin that filled the magenta lace. It was unfortunate that Chance Poletti had a sister who was not only so young, but also unusually pretty. Almost any woman would have been attractive there at the ranch, if only due to the lack of them in the neighborhood. But to have one show up like Erin Poletti. Was it any wonder Joey was all over her? If it hadn’t been Joey, it would have been one of them, Jack included, he realized with a start. He would have too. If Joey hadn’t seen her first, or wasn’t staring at her and nearly drooling, Jack would have noticed her, and wanted her.

It was much easier to dislike her and want nothing to do with her before he began to see beyond what he had her pegged as. Now, as she looked around the testosterone-filled living room, and twisted her hands together, the nerves, and her visible shyness came as a shock to him, considering how she was when she first showed up there.

Joey hadn’t turned from the TV until he heard Jack shutting the door. He stood up. “What are you doing here?” Joey asked her as he glanced up at the wall clock. “It’s a little early, isn’t it?”

The rest of the brothers turned. Erin looked down as a delicate blush started in her neck and flushed through her cheeks. Jack stopped in the process of hanging up her coat. She was blushing because of what Joey just said. She didn’t like Joey’s comment. Or that everyone knew what Joey was talking about. Jack frowned when he realized just how much he didn’t like it either.