Page 41 of Halfway to Hell
“Why did you come into the bedroom without knocking or announcing yourself?” Sunday demanded, her voice steadydespite the heat rising in her cheeks. “You saw me standing by the wood-burning stove, half-naked. I’d think a decent man would have more respect.”
She caught the flicker of shock on Clause’s face and didn’t care if she pissed him off.
Something about being at the farmhouse with Texas was stirring a part of her she hadn’t felt in a long time—her old self. And she wasn’t about to keep cowering.
There would always be strangers around, but she couldn’t live in fear, convinced every man wanted to hurt her.
It hadn’t been a stranger who had drugged, beaten, raped her, and left her to die in a ravine. No. It had been someone she once trusted. Someone she believed cared for her, at least in the beginning.
Leaning against the counter, Sunday waited silently for Clause to explain himself.
She avoided Texas’s gaze, knowing full well the damn man was snickering at his older brother.
“I was looking for this idiot,” Clause grumbled, nodding toward Texas, “and got caught off guard seeing a woman in his bedroom. I thought you’d broken in or mistaken his place for our Airbnb.”
“Did you see a broken window or a busted lock?” Sunday asked sharply.
“No, but…”
“Did you find the hide-a-key missing? Or are you just in the habit of leaving the doors wide open?”
“No, but…”
“So, what you’re saying is you were just being nosey and wanted to see who the woman riding on the back of his bike was.”
“How would I know he had a woman on the back of his bike?”
“Oh, please. St. Tite’s small. I’m sure someone saw us and called the main house.”
She had him there. “Fine. He hasn’t brought a woman to this house since he bought it two years ago. The whole family wanted to know who he had with him, and my mood is due to me drawing the short straw.”
Clause smirked. “Now, don’t you feel better getting that off your chest?”
Texas dropped the chair back down with a thud after hearing his brother’s words.
“Clause, why don’t you head to Mom and Dad’s and let them know we’ll be over shortly? And I expect breakfast since I’m bringing a guest.”
“This should be good,” Clause mumbled, heading for the door.
“I thought he’d stay for coffee,” Sunday said, leaning back and watching Clause walk to his truck through the kitchen window.
She heard Texas laughing and joined him.
Texas shook his head with a smile. “Come here, sweetheart.”
She took a few steps over, and he patted his lap.
“You’re feisty this morning,” he said before pulling her into a kiss.
Reluctantly, he broke the kiss. “Don’t think you can pull that crap with me.”
With a wink, he kissed her again.
Chapter Seventeen
Sunday feltthe weight of the room’s tension settle around her like a thick blanket. Aunt Helen’s sharp gaze flicked over to Texas every few minutes, her worry barely hidden behind her fussing. His mom’s quiet sighs mixed with the clatter of pans, a familiar rhythm of concern and frustration. The brothers’ wives, too, exchanged teasing jabs, their laughter light but pointed and definitely aimed at Texas.
Sunday’s instinct urged her to speak up, to shield Texas from the mounting pressure. But the words stuck in her throat, unsure if her voice would be welcome or just add fuel to the fire. Instead, she settled for quiet observation, clutching her warm coffee cup like an anchor, drawing calm from its gentle heat as she watched the scene unfold.
