“Brian Montoya. I’ll call him next week and see if he has time. Or he might be able to put one of his younger guys on something like this. The basic structure is solid, just needs shoring up.”
“You’llcall Brian?” Ox looked at him. “You probably shouldn’t.”
Cary sighed. “Yeah, but I will. I mean I’ll give Missy his phone number and call him too. Make sure he’s not too busy. He wouldn’t mean to blow her off, but he’s got a lot on his plate.”
“If she finds out, she’ll be pissed.”
“What’s new?”
Cary had dated on and off over the years, as much as a busy independent grower could, but most of the women he knew were already married.
And then there was Melissa.
Cary’s attraction didn’t give a shit that Melissa was way too young for him or she’d been married to his friend, not that he’d ever shown Melissa a hint of its existence when Calvin was alive.
He tried to keep steady through everything. Through Calvin’s death. Through planting her groves. Watching Melissa raise Abby on her own and not being able to help. She didn’t need a boyfriend, she needed a friend, so Cary did his best to ignore his feelings.
And when he realized he was flat-out, hopelessly, forever in love with the woman, he drove out to his favorite camping spot and drank himself stupid.
Loving Melissa, like trying to argue with her, was an exercise in futility. She was too stubborn. Too independent. Too convinced she was right. Always.
A failed marriage had taught him a hard lesson: every relationship needed two people willing to bend. He’d been the inflexible one in his marriage, and he’d paid the price. He could recognize that with age.
But Melissa? She’d never bend.
Cary even understood why. She had the weight of the world on her shoulders and a limited number of people she could rely on to help. She probably felt like if she bent, she’d break.
And where did that leave Cary?
Fucked. That left him fucked.
Melissa had stormed out of his photography exhibition when he’d exposed a fraction of his admiration with a portrait he’d taken of her the previous spring. She’d been working in the corral during calf branding. The photograph he’d taken was sexy as fuck, gritty, sensual, and captured her perfectly.
She hadn’t yelled at him, but she’d clearly been upset.We’re friends, Cary. Don’t let yourself get confused.
He’d tried falling out of love with Melissa, but he didn’t think it worked that way.
But then she’d rushed into town when she thought he was hurt, kissed him in broad daylight, and never spoken of it again.
At this point, Cary didn’t know which way was up.
“Hey.” Ox nudged his shoulder. “I think you’re being summoned.”
Cary glanced at the kitchen porch and saw Joan waving at him. His mom had her sweater on and was walking to Cary’s truck. “Yeah. Looks like it’s time for me to go.”
“I’ll walk back with you.”
“You and Emmie staying here tonight?”
“Nah, we gotta drive back. Tomorrow is farmers’ market and we open early.” Ox frowned. “Aren’t you going?”
“Shit. I forgot about it.” He was tempted to be a no-show and just forfeit his table fee for the week, but that pissed customers off, and he’d promised Abby she could help him pour the lemonade they sold at a ridiculous markup. “Yeah, I’ll be there.”
“You and Melissa still neighbors?” Ox grinned.
“I have a working cooperative agreement with your niece. Your sister tries to pretend I don’t exist.”
“Uh-huh.” His long legs ate up the ground between the house and the bunkhouse. “How’s that working for you two?”