Page 38 of Brands

“Yep.” Dropping my head, I pretend I’m staring at a slip of paper instead of scowling at him for beinghim.

He drops a six pack of my favorite beer on a clear spot. “I just wanted to tell you how much I appreciate the time you’re spending here.” He takes a long breath, then pops one of the tops and hands it to me.

Then opens one for himself.

“I gotta go back in,” he sighs, taking a long pull from the bottle.

“Shit.” I mirror him and take a drink to mask my silence.

What the hell do I say?

“I’m gonna take another twenty up to the sale this weekend before checking into the hospital on Monday. They want to do a round of radiation and chemo.” His mouth pinches up so tightly it looks like a cat’s ass.

I glance at the piles that are slowly being whittled down. “Do you know which ones? I’ll be sure to grab their papers. Will help with the final values.”

He nods, and digs a note out of his pocket. “Here’s the ear tags. Thanks again, Blue. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to repay you for your help.” His chest expands, then his shoulders droop. “I hope I live long enough to try.”

“Enough with that. You’ll be fine, just wait and see.” I tilt back in my chair. “You’re tough as nails, I know you can beat this.”

His thick fingers rake along his graying whiskers.

I swear he’s aged ten years in the last few months.

“We always think we have plenty of time, don’t we?” he asks morosely, then turns on his heel.

The snapping of the latch seems to echo behind him when he leaves.

That’s sobering.

What would I do if I found out my own clock was ticking?

Libby.

Because she’s a once in a lifetime kind of woman.

And I wouldn’t want to die knowing I’d missed my chance.

But I’m the asshole that just wished Clay well, while deciding I’m going to give in on his daughter.

Well. I might make her work for it a little more.

The second beer goes down easier than the first, so I better put the rest in the fridge.

When I hear the click of the door, I pull them back out. “Here Clay, figured you’d want another—”

Libby appears, a broad grin splitting her cheeks. “Yes, please! We need to celebrate!” She takes the cold bottle and twists off the top. It’s obvious she hasn’t talked to her father yet.

She’s like a ray of sunshine after a storm, and I feel my own lips turn up watching her throat work with every swallow.

“Gah, that is bitter. I like the wine coolers better.” She holds the amber bottle up to show it’s already half empty.

Her blue eyes lock with mine.

Before I can stop her, her knees frame one of mine, hugging her thighs around my leg.

I kinda like that she’s getting comfortable with me.

“Guess what?” She’s practically bouncing out of her snug jacket with excitement, rubbing herself deliciously against me.

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