“Yeah, we’re in off-season now. Nobody comes to the farm until mid-November. Gives us time to work maintenance and whatever else.” He glances over his shoulder, eyes meeting mine.
I nod, pretending disinterest, but then take a stab. “What about the veterans you help? I heard someone talking about it at the bar.”
He freezes at the sink, but it’s so fast I almost miss it, him recovering by starting the water. “Uh, yeah. I have this thing where I help them confront their demons.”
I reach for my coffee. “From combat?”
He peers up over the sink. “From life.” He says the name like it’s nothing, like he hasn’t just detonated a small bomb in the middle of the room. I feel the muscles in my thigh contract, thinking about if Bradford is maybe…helping…my brother.
And that’s something I wasn’t prepared for.
I try to keep my voice casual. “Are you helping anyone now?”
He shrugs. “I keep that private.”
Before I can press, there’s a blast of cold morning air through the kitchen, and the man with the big hound comes storming through.
“Turner! What the fuck?” Cal immediately explodes, just as the dog starts barking at me…
Like he recognizes me from last night.
“Gunner, hush,” Turner commands, his voice booming through the quiet of the morning. He then turns to me, his eyes widening slightly. “Sorry about him. He’s been on edge lately.”
“I get that,” I clear my throat, and then wrap my arms around myself. I completely forgot I’mjustin Calvin’s shirt. “I’m going to get dressed and leave you two to it.”
I jump up from the chair, grateful for how long the shirt it.
“Your clothes are folded in the laundry room.” Cal gestures off to the mudroom, the one I broke into without his knowledge.
I slip off to the room, glancing down at the healed hand. I step in, and shut the door behind me, letting out a long breath. I grab for my clothes and throw them on, unable to hear the low,tenseconversation happening between the two men.
Where is my brother? Is he there? Is he outside?My heart pounds in my chest as I pull my clothes back on and leave the shirt in the hamper. I step back out into the kitchen, to see both men glaring at each other.
“Dr Williams,” Turner nods his head at me, his expression shifting to a smirk. “It’s very nice to see you here with Bradford.”
“Turner,” Cal grits out, and then turns to me. “I have some business to attend to. I’m sorry, Jen. I’ll walk you out.”
I nod, forcing a smile. “Of course. I’ll get out of your hair.”
I fall in step beside him, pull on my coat, and he opens the front door for me, letting in another blast of morning air. I hesitate, just for a second. “Thanks for the date?” It comes out like a question. An embarrassing one.
But Cal softens, his hardened expression shifting. “I want to do this again.”
I don’t know why I do it—maybe to prove to myself that I’m still the kind of woman who takes what she wants, or maybe just because I can’t help it—but I lean in and kiss him.
It’s not a replay of last night. There’s no burst of passion to it. Just a soft, almost chaste touch of lips, a moment that could belong to anyone, anywhere. And it feels nice.
“I’ll hold you to that.”
He puts a hand on the side of my face, thumb rough against my cheekbone. He kisses me once more, gentle, and then lets go.
“Deal. Drive safe,” he says. “I’ll call you.”
And just like that, I’m pushed out.
But at least I’m closer, and I realize that I might be all wrong about Calvin Bradford. He mightnotbe the enemy.
Oh, and I wish I never lied.
