Shameless(79)

“That’s… that’s great.” My voice comes out barely above a whisper.

“Seriously, hun, don’t worry about the coffee.”

I force my lips up into a smile. “Congrats on your deal. Your client must be ecstatic.”

My heart crumbles as he taps the table and barks with a laugh, “He was absolutely speechless!”





51





Katherine





I’m not sure how long I drive along the winding backwoods road, but by the time I get home, it’s dark.

Home.

A maniacal laugh spills out of me. Oh, God. Brady and Izzy are leaving. This won’t be home for long.

And this really has been home for me. Melissa made sure it was. When we were kids, we’d sit under the big oak and talk about boys, and she’d tell me about her crushes and first kiss. It’s where she told me I’d fall in love some day with the perfect boy, someone who would love and cherish me. Because that’s what she believed she’d find some day. And she did.

The driveway blurs behind my tears that I blink away. Deep breaths.

I pull up behind Brady’s Harley, wishing I could get my emotions under control. I should let him tell me. He’ll probably be all professional and distant. Well, more distant than he’s been this week.

Maybe I’m jumping the gun. Just because someone made an offer doesn’t necessarily mean he’s going to take it, right?

The knot in my stomach tightens. The farm is a helluva lot of work. And he hasn’t even been through a harvest yet.

I know I’m selfish for wanting him to stay. His life is in Boston. It’s where he belongs. Not here in the middle of no man’s land.

As much as I love working on the farm, it’s not like I’ll have a job here once Brady sells it.

The idea of heading back to Corpus looking like a failure, after all my parents sacrificed to help me get through college, makes me nauseous.

I think about Congressman Mitchell’s offer last spring. He liked what I did for Eric’s dad. Mitchell wanted me on his team.

But do I really want this? To head back to Austin? I don’t even have clothes to wear if he calls to interview me. It's not like I can waltz into his office in torn Levis and cowboy boots.

Reaching into the back seat, I grab a beat-up box of tissues, conveniently tucked away from the last time I got my ass handed to me.

The slam of a car door makes me wipe my face quickly and look around. On the opposite side of the house, a figure walks toward my car. Squinting, I make out a dark polo and shiny watch.

Oh hell, no.

I jump out of the car. “What the hell are you doing here, Eric? You do realize stalking is illegal, right?”

My ex-boyfriend laughs. “Glad to see you’ve missed me, Katherine.”

He studies me, and the surprise is written all over his face. Yes, I work at a diner.

I untie my apron that I forgot to take off before I left the restaurant and toss it on the porch. Of all the times for him to see me, I wish it weren’t when I smelled like chicken-fried steak and grease, looking like I’ve been bawling my eyes out.

Of course, he looks like an Abercrombie model. Superbly styled. Not a hair out of place. Asshole.

“Baby, I’ve missed you. Come home.”

I roll my eyes. “You missed me?”

“I’ve been trying to contact you for f*cking months. Of course I missed you.”

“Too little, too late, Romeo,” I snark as I head for the front door. As I unlock the door, I turn back to glare because he’s right on my heels. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

He motions toward the house. “I figured you’d let me in, and we’d sit down and discuss this like two responsible adults.”

“Responsible?” I laugh. “So you’re responsible now?”

“Don’t be like that. You knew I’d come around.”

I open the front door and put my hand on his chest to keep him back. “Stay here. I’ll be back in a few minutes.” He smells like expensive cologne and leather. God, I used to love how he smelled. Now it reminds me that words are meaningless. What is it they say? That tough times reveal a man’s true character? Well, Eric failed the test. Epically.

His eyebrow quirks up. “You’re really not going to let me into the house?” He runs a hand through his blond hair, looking perplexed.

“I realize you’re not accustomed to people denying you anything, but no, you’re not coming in this house.”

He snickers, and the sound makes me contemplate strangling him.

“What’s so funny?”

“Get your cute self out here, and I’ll tell you.” He glances at his watch. “Hurry, though. I have a conference call in half an hour.”

“Of course you do.” How did I date this * for a year and a half? I grit my teeth and point to the porch. “Stay.” Then I slam the door in his face.

Brady pokes his head out of the office as I storm into the kitchen, but I ignore him as I march toward the liquor cabinet and pour a tumbler of whiskey. My nerves are shot, and I seriously need to calm down to deal with Eric.

“Are you okay?” Brady’s voice is raspy, like he’s been sleeping.

A few gulps later, and I’m gasping from the fire shooting down my throat.