Page 8 of Ashes of the Past
I let out a low growl, shaking my head to get rid of the resentment ripping through me.
I need this shower before Brynn takes me on a tour of the ranch. I need to be calm, cool, and collected.
I wonder if she remembers me from thirteen years ago.
She’ll definitely remember the asshole who mowed her down today and kept walking.
I was too angry and embarrassed to even stop and help her up. I didn’t want to snap at her because of my ex-wife’s idiocy.
I let out a groan. I wasn’t expecting to see Brynn’s gorgeous face when I pulled that shower curtain back, but what a nice predicament this is.
Maybe she is the release I need for all this pent-up frustration. She still looks just as feisty and sexy as she did back then, that’s for damn sure.
I scrub my face and try to wipe the thoughts of Brynn away. I need to let go of all my thoughts right now. The more I think about my ex-wife, Savannah, the angrier I get. I can feel my temperature rising.
More alimony. Of course, Savannah would come back for more. As if bleeding me dry the first time wasn’t enough. That’s why I was at the courthouse today, filing paperwork to adjust the payments based on my new income. I’d kept my head down, not wanting to talk to anyone, not even looking where I was going. That’s when I ran into Brynn—literally.
I get out of the shower. I dry off quickly and pull on a pair of jeans, leaving the button undone as I rifle through my bag for a shirt. The steam is starting to dissipate, and I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror. My hair is still damp, droplets clinging to my chest. I’ve got scars now, reminders of the years I spent working jobs that didn’t ask too many questions. Scars that weren’t there the last time Brynn saw me.
I slip on my socks. I grab my T-shirt and walk out of the bathroom shirtless.
“What the hell are you doing here?”
I turn, and there she is, pacing the kitchen like some fiery avenging angel. Her eyes widen, cheeks flaming as she takes in my shirtless torso.
“Your dad hired me,” I say. “I’m the new ranch manager. We’ve been over this.”
Her laughter is sharp and humorless. “Of course you are. Because why wouldn’t my dad hire the guy who disappeared on us without so much as a goodbye?”
I open my mouth to respond, but she is already gone, her footsteps echoing down the hall as she disappears into the bathroom.
I can still hear her voice in my head, dripping with disdain. She doesn’t know the whole story. Hell, she doesn’t know half of it. But it’s clear she’s already made up her mind about me.
When she comes back into the kitchen, I’m standing at the counter, my back to her. I turn around slowly. She’s still as gorgeous as ever, even in her worn jeans and a faded T-shirt. Her hair is pulled into a messy ponytail, and there’s a streak of dirt on her cheek. She’s muttering to herself something about mistakes and contracts, and I can’t help the smirk that tugs at my lips.
“Brynn,” I say, pulling my shirt over my head as I step into the room.
She startles, spinning around to face me. Her eyes flick to my chest, then quickly away, but not before I catch the flush creeping up her neck.
“There’s been a mistake,” she says, her voice firm despite the way she’s avoiding my gaze. “We’ll pay you for the first week, but you need to go.”
I lean against the counter, crossing my arms over my chest. “Your dad hired me, Brynn. If you’ve got a problem with that, take it up with him.”
Her jaw tightens, and she steps closer, pointing a finger at me. “I don’t know what kind of scam you’re running, but it’s not going to work. You’re not going to waltz in here, take advantage of my dad, and then disappear again like you did last time.”
I blink, genuinely shocked. “Scam? Disappear? What the hell are you talking about?”
“You know exactly what I’m talking about,” she snaps. “You took off without a word, leaving us high and dry. My dad trusted you, and you screwed him over.”
Her words are a shock, and I straighten, my expression hardening. “I explained everything to your dad before I left. I didn’t have a choice, sweetheart. If you’d bothered to ask him instead of jumping to conclusions, you’d know that.”
“Do NOT call me sweetheart. And oh, right,” she says, crossing her arms. “Because you’re such a stand-up guy. That’s why you’ve been gone for a decade, right? Too busy being a hero to check in on the people you left in a lurch? I know that you left a few farms in trouble.”
I take a step closer, my voice low and steady. “You don’t know anything about what I’ve been through. And you sure as hell don’t know why I left. So maybe you should stop throwing around accusations and actually listen for once.”
Her eyes flash, her hand twitches, and I think she’s going to slap me. But instead, she takes a deep breath, her shoulders rising and falling as she glares up at me.
“Fine,” she says, her voice tight. “Explain. Why did you leave?”
