There was violence lurking in the stormy depths of his gaze. “What are you going to do with the strawberries?”
Oh, crap, what did I do to deserve finding this guy? Kole didn’t pick a fight with me about a past mistake showing up. My one ex was really good at that. A lot of jackasses were. That kind of drama thrived around here. But Kole? He didn’t insist on staying, when he knew the best thing was for me to get ready and him to leave.
I lifted the bag. “Um….”
There was no way I would be able to save the contents of the canvas bag from being devoured by the grunting hoard of swine milling about. Even if I tucked the berries in the back of the fridge, they weren’t safe from the greedy grubs’ fingers.
“Take them, for your French toast.” I held the bag out.
Kole paused before wrapping his fingers around the bag. “Thank your grandparents again for me.”
With that, he climbed into the truck.
I gave him a wave, gratitude spilling from every pore. I couldn’t believe how incredible Kole was being. His calm stabilized me. The ability for him to walk away, when the fight clearly raged in his eyes, gave me the strength to do the same.
“Real keeper you got there,” Carter scoffed. “He’s got so many silver spoons stuck up his ass, I’m surprised he’s able to sit.”
I will not cry in front of them. “Shut the hell up, Carter.”
Joe laughed.
“And you.” I rounded on him. “I’ve never been so humiliated in my entire life.”
“I would think slumming with the rich folk would do that,” Joe sneered.
“See, and you wonder why I hate you.” I shoved past him. “You like to act like a preppy, rich douche, spend your daddy’s money, but then fold back into the country boy act. You’re trash, Joe. Plain old trash.”
I stormed into the house, their jeers following hot on my footsteps. It was petty to stoop to their level. But there was no stopping the hurt, angry words. I breathed through the battle not to cry as I pulled the spurs off my boots to take to my room for safekeeping.
“Harley,” Aunt Beatrice called out, coming from the basement and chasing me up the second flight of stairs. “I want to talk to you about something.”
Not now!I swallowed those words and croaked out the response she wanted to hear. “What’s up?”
“We need to talk about that guy you brought over,” she panted after me.
My fingers tightened around the spindle. I stomped into the upstairs laundry to grab my work clothes from the dryer.
If my lack of response seemed odd, Beatrice didn’t say. She followed me into the bedroom and sat on my bed as I began to change for the bartending shift, which should have been a pleasant enough change from waiting tables that it made me look forward to work.
“What are you thinking bringing a guy like that here?” Beatrice clucked her tongue.
As opposed to the gems she’d brought home over the years? “He’s polite and kind, Bea. Even Grandpa liked him.”
“That’s because they were both in the military,” my aunt retorted.
I stilled. Kole never told me he was in the military. Had he said something at dinner? Or was my aunt reading into the situation?Military service would explain a lot, though. The way he moved, the way he looked—and the trauma from an old injury!
Oh, holy shit, he’s a wounded veteran!
Beatrice continued to ramble, but I ignored her and finished getting ready. I kept my mind occupied by weighing the pros and cons of asking Kole.
The list boiled down to one simple fact: I wanted Kole to tell me himself. To trust me enough to open up to me.
“And if you just went for a sensible, local boy like Joeseph, you’d already be married and have kids,” Beatrice insisted.
My hands fisted on my vanity. “Don’t bring that asshole’s name up again.”
“So what, he cheated on you? That was years ago!” my aunt snorted. “Carter says Joeseph changed. He’s ready to settle down.”