Page 8 of Safe With Me
Plus, this pulse of excitement leapt in my gut, like being in the stand and seeing a perfect buck or in the boat and feeling a heavy hit on the line, likehere it is, this is it!
Elizabeth was free, and part of me was damn giddy.
So, yeah, I was an asshole.
Then there was the way I’d talked to Hannah last night.
I’d called her a bitch. Jumped all over her because being with Jase and Elizabeth made me tense and itchy, being with Hannah and Elizabeth together made me tight and antsy, made me look for a fight, and I’d taken it out on Hannah.
So, I was a fucking asshole.
Still, I was a loyal asshole – Jase was my buddy and Elizabeth loved him. I cared what happened to the guy.
I tapped a fingertip on the varnished tabletop, the wood a little sticky under my skin because Lola had done a too-quickwipedown of the table before seating us during Old Mexico’s lunch rush.
“Jase, you sure about this?” I rubbed my finger in a circle, frowning. “Y’all have been together a long time.”
“I’m sure.” Resolve rang in Jase’s voice. “She’s not who she used to be and doesn’t show any signs of going back. She won’t listen and the way she does Hannah? I”m not living with that bullshit.”
“They’re sisters, man. Siblings fight. And Hannah has middle child syndrome.” I’d heard that often enough from Elizabeth, fussing about Hannah’s need for attention from their daddy and her fighting with their mama. Hell, Hannah didn’t even want to share credit for setting up that fancy section in the feed store and that shebang had been almost all Elizabeth, who talked about it all the time.
Jase stared at me, mouth open. “What the fuck are you talking about?”
“I’m just saying, man. They don’t get along. Hannah’s jealous of Elizabeth. Gracie, too.” I picked up a chip and scooped up a generous portion of salsa. The fiery mess burned my tongue. Damn, that was hot today. “Don’t tell me you haven’t seen it. You live all up in that family.”
“Yeah, which is how I can tell you you’re so fucking wrong, you’d never find a right turn.” He glanced sideways and expelled a disbelieving huff. “Hannah jealous of Elizabeth.”
“You saying she’s not?” From my side of the booth, I could see Hannah out front of the feed store in blue jeans so tight her daddy would ask if she’d painted them on. Her sweater rode up to show a little bit of skin when she tiptoed up to set some plants on the top shelf of a rolling cart. Her blondish hair – like warm honey and caramel but not quite as bright as Elizabeth’s– caught the sunlight even in a tight braid, but she looked dim, somehow.
Maybe because of me. Maybe because I’d called her a bitch. She might act like one with Elizabeth, but I didn’t have to say it out loud.
With my chest.
I winced.
“I’m sure sometimes she is.” Jase pulled my attention from the window and wondering if Hannah’s Levis were always that snug. “Elizabeth gets a lot of attention, and Mr. Ted dotes on her different, because of the divorce, but this mess with the channel and Elizabeth lying about Hannah? That’s bullshit.”
I bristled. “Lying’s a harsh word.”
“When you say or portray something untrue, that’s what it’s called. Didn’t you pay attention in English?” Jase narrowed his eyes, mouth tight. “Why are you defending her?”
Because maybe I lo–
I snapped that off like a twig.
“Just don’t want you to make a decision you’ll regret.”
“Like marry a woman who completely disregards my concerns?” With apfft, Jase slugged down a swallow of tea. “Yeah, that’ll work out great.”
“You’re saying she never listens?” Hell, look at me, playing devil’s advocate and fighting his corner. So, yeah, buddy, I’d paid attention in English. And see, I was not a total shit friend.
Not that Hannah would agree today.
I rubbed at the center of my chest, trying – and failing – to soothe the hollow gnawing there.
“I’m saying I’ve laid out several issues – that fucking channel, her spending habits, the way she treats her family . . . hell, the way she treats me. And she laughs it all off. Even PastorMike broached it in our premarital counseling, and she blew him off, too.” Jase laid his fork across the top of his plate. “I am done. I care about her, but I’m not living like that.”
I held my tongue, considering his words. My gaze drifted to Hannah, fiddling with another set of shelves outside the store.
