Shameless(49)

If I’m being honest, I thought sharing all of this domestic stuff with a woman I barely know would be awkward as hell, but with Kat, it’s surprisingly normal. When I’m not overrun with sexual frustration, I really like being around her. There’s something calming about her.

She feeds Izzy a bite of mashed potatoes, and I have a brief flash of her doing that for our own baby.

What in the ever-loving hell?

Not the kind of fantasy I need right now. I have to cut this shit out. A week and a half with this girl, and I need to book a one-way ticket to an insane asylum.

Gritting my teeth, I try to focus on the hard-and-fast truth—I have to sell the farm. Even with my brother’s modest life insurance, I can’t deal with this place while I dig my parents out of their financial pit back home. So staying here to play house with Kat isn’t really an option.

So much for everything seeming right in the world.

“Are you working tomorrow?” I ask, hoping she’s free.

“No, thank God. Working on Black Friday is a fate I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemies.” She pushes her glasses up her nose. “Why? What’s up?”

“I’d like to check out that nursery by the highway and talk to them about our fields. That’s where Melissa got all of her supplies, right?” I’ve seen a few receipts, but I should make sure first.

“Yeah, ask for Hank. He knows everything. He’ll help you.”

I push some cornbread around on my plate. “Would you mind coming with me? In case I have any questions?”

“Sure, although I’m by no means an expert.”

“Trust me when I say you know a helluva lot more than I do.”

She shifts in her seat and clears her throat. “I wanted to ask you about that farmers’ event we were supposed to host. Do you want to cancel it? I have to tell our neighbors if you do. And if we’re having it, I need to whip up some soaps and a few other products we sell.”

She’s trying to be nonchalant, but I can tell she wants to do this.

I rub my forehead, hating how much I want to bail, but the least I can do is follow through on the last plans my brother made.

“Okay. Let’s do it.”

“I’d need some help creating a pen for the animals for the petting zoo,” she says hesitantly.

Reaching over to the counter, I grab a spiral and start jotting down notes so I don’t forget this shit. I blow out a breath. “You’re not going to make me pet the raccoon or anything, are you?”

She laughs. “No. I promise.”

“Fine. Write out a list of what you need me to do. When is it again?”

“Two and a half weeks.”

“Does this mean you’ll make me more hot chocolate?”

Her grin kicks up. “Any time you want.”

Returning my focus to dinner, I shovel down the rest of my meal before I remember one more question. “Can I ask another favor?”

“Of course.”

“You can say no. I mean it.”

She motions for me to lay it on her, so I continue. “I’d like to check out a tattoo parlor in Austin.”

Her eyes travel over my arms in a way that heats my skin. The girl likes my tats. Duly noted.

“You’re getting more ink?”

“No, it’s owned by a friend of a friend, and I hear there’s an opening for an artist. My roommate is shipping all of my gear to me. Should be here in a few days. My portfolio is online, so I don’t need it for an interview, but I'd like to check out the vibe. They know my situation and are cool if it’s only temporary.” I could certainly use the cash.

Her head tilts, making her crazy ponytail flop to the side. “How did I not know you were a tattoo artist?”

I shrug. “Maybe because we’ve only known each other for ten days.”

She nods, biting her bottom lip. Something about her expression tells me this hurts her feelings for some reason. It’s not like I know that much about her. Like the real reason she’s hiding out here on a farm in the middle of Bumblef*ck.

But I don’t like that this is creating distance between us, so I quickly add, “I really haven’t inked much lately. I was pretty busy with my parents’ landscaping business for the last several months.”

She releases that bottom lip and her expression brightens. “I’d love to see your work.”

“Sure.” I smile back reassuringly. “If this hammers out, though, I’ll be working a few nights a week, and I’d need you to babysit. With pay, of course. If we work around your schedule at the diner, do you think this could happen? I’m just hoping to make a little money to keep things afloat around here until the insurance pays or until I sell this place.”

Her eyes dip and she stares at the table. “Whatever you need, Brady.”

“Hey.” I wait for her to look up. “I don’t have a choice.” My voice comes out harsher than I intend.

She stares back, looking just as devastated as the first time I told her I’d be selling the farm. But she nods slowly. “I know. I’m not judging you for needing to do this.” She sighs, and the sound settles around my heart and squeezes. “I just wish things were different.”

Me too, sweetheart. My gaze settles on her lips. Me too.