‘James said that your check is deposited into two accounts every pay day …’
‘It is what it is,’ he said, hoping to end the discussion.
‘No, honey. It is what you allow it to be.’ Uncaring of her flour-covered hands, Mrs Hunt placed them on her hips. ‘And your parents do not deserve a dime of your hard-earned money.’
‘They raised me. They spent money on me,’ he replied, repeating what his own father had told him. ‘I’m paying back what’s owed.’
‘Benjamin Matthews, don’t make me call you stupid.’
Benji knew by her use of his full name that she was mad, but all her concern did was warm him. Shecared– abouthim. ‘It’s just money, Mrs H.’
‘Benji, they chose to have a child and raise him. Spending money to do that is the most basic of parenting requirements after loving your child, and at no point should that incur a debt.’
‘My mom needs help.’
She exhaled a resigned breath. ‘Baby, your mom made her bed long ago. Now she – and onlyshe– must lie in it. Sweet boy, she’s never going to leave Silas if you keep giving her the means to stay.’
‘I don’t want him to come here,’ Benji admitted quietly, telling her more than he wanted to in the hope that she’d let it be. ‘Hunt Ranch is my home. He’s not gonna take that from me.’
‘He could never. He might try, but we’ll face him together. James and me. And you. And God knows Mav and Sierra won’t sit out either.’
Because his burning eyes mortified him, Benji unravelled from his lean on the counter and said, ‘I’ll sort it out, Mrs H. Don’t worry so much.’ He gave her a quick kiss on the cheek because he knew it would make her smile, said, ‘See you at the barbecue tomorrow.’
‘All right, honey. Have a good time tonight. And keep my boy out of trouble.’ She turned back to her bread, finished with, ‘I think Sierra’s out on the porch.’
Benji took his Coke and escaped, but he had the distinct thought,Out of the frying pan and into the fire, as he went to find Sierra.
She wasn’t on the porch. Sierra was swaying on the swing beneath the oak tree. At eighteen, almost nineteen, she should have still looked like Mav’s bratty little sister – innocent and childish – not like a full-grown woman; her legs, left bare by a tiny pair of denim shorts, extended in front of her, her head back, eyes closed and that long hair almost touching the ground. She was sexy as hell, and that about summed up every problem in Benji’s life.
She saw him coming and stopped the swing. But she didn’t turn around to face him, only waited, her back to him, a woman who knew thathe’dwalk the distance.
His heart tapped against his ribs with every step closer, and because he needed a few minutes to regain his composure, he stayed at her back, grabbed the rope on either side of her. ‘Hold on, kid.’
She tilted her head back, looked at him with those smouldering brown eyes. ‘How many times do I have to tell you, Benji: I’m not a kid.’
Didn’t he know it. How many nights had he thought of her? How many times had he seen her and let his mind wander down all those inappropriate paths even though he knew Sierra Hunt was solidly off-limits? But because it shamed him, and made him angry, he simply ignored her comment and started walking the swing backwards.
Her hands gripped the rope, holding on as he stopped and then released her.
Sierra didn’t squeal in fear or shout at him as she went flying. The little hooligan whooped loudly, bringing a smile to his lips.
Benji watched her as she sailed through the air in a smooth crescent. He planted his feet and braced as she came back towards him, but this time he pushed the wooden swing seat, avoiding the ropes because he didn’t want to unsettle her. ‘I heard you’re leaving tomorrow morning.’
‘Bright and early. Seven a.m. flight.’ Sierra took a few more swings before slowing herself with her feet. She came to a stop, tipped her head back a second time. ‘Wanna drive me to the airport?’
‘Nope.’
She laughed knowingly. ‘I think you do, Benji.’
‘You also think that the barn is haunted,’ he retorted. ‘You’re an unreliable source.’
‘I swear I saw the ghost of Esmeralda Hunt in there,’ Sierra argued, instantly distracted. ‘Just a flash of her white wedding dress and the sound of weeping. I didn’t make it up—’ She spotted his grin. ‘Okay. Ha ha.’
‘That damn ghost gets you going every time.’
She used one foot to idly keep the swing in motion as she mulled. ‘Why?’ she asked eventually and aimed those witch’s eyes in his direction.
Benji knew exactly what she was asking. But he pretended not to for so many reasons.Goodreasons. Reasons that seemed more and more insignificant with each day she was in proximity to him. She was his best friend’s little sister, which made her solidly out of bounds. She was special, the Princess of Hunt Ranch, and he was a glorified shit shoveler. ‘You’re not my type,’ he said with a teasing nonchalance. ‘You’re still a kid.’ But internally, he reminded himself:One more day. You just have to make it one more day.
