Page 28 of Still A Cowboy
Delia rested the turkey leg on her shoulder like it was a perfectly reasonable accessory. “Terrifying, but festive. Big difference.”
Willa shook her head, but the knot in her chest loosened just a little. Leave it to her mom to make even Brent’s unwelcome drop-in almost funny. Almost.
She stomped to the entrance and threw the door open so hard Brent actually jumped back, as if the very air from the Seaglass might trigger the infamous curse of itching genitals.
“What do you want?” she asked, not bothering to soften it.
Brent smoothed his shirt and made a visible effort of collecting himself. And looking at the tiara. Judging from the little smirk he made, he thought it was as ridiculous as it truly was. That’s why Willa didn’t take it off. She wanted to do nothing, nada, that would make this cheating scumbag believe she cared one flying fig—or in this case, one deranged turkey tiara—what he thought of her.
“I was just chatting with Sawyer and Lark fromChasing Fire,” Brent said after clearing his throat. “I’m sure you’ve heard they’re in town. They want to do a vlog on the Seaglass. You know, about the soulmate legend. They think it would make a great story.”
Willa crossed her arms. “Why didn’t they come ask me themselves?”
Brent shrugged. “I’ve been handling some of their business matters while they’re in town. Coordinating stuff. Local rentals, events, that sort of thing.”
She thought of the couple in the window. The role-play. The masks. The show they had unknowingly put on.
Her eyes narrowed. “Are they renting the Driftwood Manor?”
Brent looked a little taken aback by her question. He scratched the back of his neck, like maybe he wasn’t expecting her to know about the house.
“No,” he said slowly. “They’re actually renting another one of my properties. Roseview Cottage. The smaller, more romantic place over on Harbor Street.” He paused, his gaze flicking past her into the quiet bar. “But I did tell them they could use my other rentals while they’re in town. Gave them free rein, you know? Security codes, whatever they needed. I wanted them to feel welcome.”
Willa’s jaw tightened. She didn’t say a word about the little show Sawyer and Lark had been putting on through the second-floor window at Driftwood Manor.
She folded her arms and studied him, her thoughts sliding right back to that night. The night she and Cal sat side by side, watching something they probably shouldn’t have. For a minute, she wondered if that was the spark that had lit the fuse between them. If maybe the heat had needed something to nudge it along.
But no.
That wasn’t it.
The heat hadn’t needed a trigger.
Well, other than the way Cal looked in those jeans.
Brent shuffled his feet, his hands in his jacket pockets, his eyes darting everywhere but at her. He cleared his throat, then blurted out, “I just don’t want you to ruin things for me.”
Willa arched a brow. “Ruin things how? By cheating on you?” She let that hang there for half a second. “Oh, wait. You’re not my fiancé anymore. And you did the cheating.”
Brent’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t back off. “That’s exactly what I mean. You could say something. About me. About what happened. You could hurt my reputation. And… Misty’s.”
“Misty?” Willa asked, folding her arms. The name didn’t ring a bell.
“She’s Lark’s assistant,” Brent said. “Misty and I… we’ve been seeing each other. And Lark wants to do a vlog on us. You know, about second chances. Love after heartbreak. It could be huge for the business. It could let me expand through the state. Maybe even the country.”
Willa felt the burn rise hot in her chest. She wanted to unleash all the hurt he’d caused her. She wanted to tell him to go straight to hell. She wanted to swing the giant plastic turkey leg that her mom was still twirling like a baton behind her.
But instead, she let out a long, tired sigh.
“I’ll keep the badmouthing to a minimum,” she said, her voice cool, her patience threadbare.
Then she stepped back and shut the door in his face.
Brent’s voice called out from the other side of the door. “But what about the vlog? Sawyer and Lark still want to do the piece on the legend.”
Willa rolled her eyes and looked at her mom.
Delia gave a slow shrug, the plastic turkey leg still balanced on her shoulder like she was ready to use it if necessary. “Your call, sweetheart.”
