I can still feel Logan’s hot hands around my waist and hear his raspy breath so close to me. I wanted him so badly it hurt.
It still hurts.
Because he’s taken. And I let him go. Iaskedhim for a divorce, for goodness sake.
Shit.
When did my life get this out of control?
I open upGhost Loveon my laptop. Maybe I can lose myself in the love story I’m writing that will definitely have a happy ending. Really, I’m grateful for something to do. Writing this novel has helped get me through the summer of hell.
Except—I’m having a bit of a meltdown at the moment. So I can’t really concentrate on my book. Maybe I can finish it next summer when I’ll have more time. Ginny will be a mother, and Logan will be—
Gone.
The back door slams, and Ben takes a seat across from me at the table.
“Sorry you were stuck in the cell,” he says with a chuckle. “Riley and Blake are assholes.”
I close my laptop and laugh. “They were so thrilled with themselves.”
“I’m sure they were. I just got back and Daddy told me what happened. Oh, Ginny called me. Said she couldn’t reach you.”
Shit. I forgot about my phone.
“She and her mama are going to the bakery. They want you to meet them there.”
I nod. “Got it.”
Ben starts fidgeting, first with his hands, and then he takes a stick off the ground and starts breaking it into pieces.
“What’s up?” I say finally.
He looks at me. “I’ve made a decision about my future. I want to run my own business someday.”
I tell him how proud I am of him, silently realizing this is the second time this summer that one of my siblings hasn’t needed me the way they used to. They’re all grown up.
“I don’t think it was a coincidence that I had to come work at The Cowherd to figure that out,” he says. “You’ve been a good mentor, Mace. I appreciate all your support”
I rub his head affectionately. “Daddy’s the owner of this bar. He’s who you want to learn from, not the chick running the place for him.”
“You know you do everything here,” Ben says. “I don’t know how you did it so young is all. Feels like you had to grow up way too soon.”
“Yeah, well.” The smoky-sweet smell of the surrounding mesquite trees wafts through my nose, and I breathe in the familiar scent. “I think you have a real talent for this. You’ve already helped increase our profit margins. And you didn’t have to use a dead woman to do it.”
Ben laughs. “Daddy never did stop thinking Jane Austen would save his soul. Kind of like a lot of folks around here.”
“I guess it’s habit.”
“You could do so much more than this, you know,” he says to me after a long pause.
“I don’t know. Maybe I’m scared of giving all this up.”
I stretch out my arm and gesture aimlessly around me.
“Why?” Ben asks me. “You mean The Cowherd? I know it’s been like home, but it’s not really you, is it?”
“Maybe not. But it’s what I know.”
