“I don’t know,” I admit about our siblings. They have grown in so many ways. Her brothers are just as accomplished as mine, but hers are also single later in life like most of mine have been.
“Sometimes I just want to knock all their heads together. Don’t get me wrong, I know Cort was at fault, but still . . .”
This is the first time Trinity has ever spoken so directly about what happened.
Cort broke Stone’s heart. He also broke mine a little bit too. While unintentionally cracking it open when I was ten, the real shattering happened later.
Cort wasn’t a bad man, he just made poor decisions. Who didn’t? I’d made a rash decision as well with misplaced expectations on him, so I take some responsibility for my wound. But if I was being honest, the way he’d treated me hurt. Deeply.
And the moment proved only one thing: I would never find what I was looking for through random sex.
Trinity sighs. “But sometimes, you just have to forgive and let go.” She makes a heart symbol with her hands before breaking them apart and fluttering her fingers like two halves are flying away from each other. “Be free.”
Somehow, I don’t think we’re discussing our brothers anymore, but I appreciate what she’s saying. I learned to forgive long ago. Be free from my own guilt in the equation with Cort.
Letting go of him hadn’t been a choice.
He’d walked away from me.
He’d also never been mine to keep.
Cort is stillon my brain when he shouldn’t be as I stand in the beekeeping section of the Sylver Seed & Soil. Our family business started out as a dream of our mother’s. She loved the outdoors. Plants and flowers. Animals, especially horses. And when the opportunity came up to buy a rundown farm and fleet business, the romantic side of our father, which I’d never ever seen, decided to purchase it for her.
Upon her death, their dream died, according to our dad.Between his drinking, gambling, and business debts, he’d taken the start of a thriving opportunity and ran it into the ground. Clay worked his butt off for years, struggling to keep the place standing before our father died. Then the real work began. Clay turned the farm and fleet into something even greater. While farm supplies are still sold through the back of the business, the front end has turned into an empire for the outdoor enthusiast, selling garden needs and garden-themed houseware items, plus pet products. Thus, a beekeeping section.
My mind races as I stare at the two types of bee smokers on a shelf.
Forgiving Cort came with time and seeing him so often lately is triggering old feelings. The sting of his rejection. The confusion about his tears. The coldness of his second exit from my life.
While I could justify not reciprocating my crush when I was in my teens, it was harder to excuse Cort’s actions as an adult.
When I was twenty-two, he’d been making bedroom eyes at me, restoring the heart emojis in mine, and that attention was enticing, refreshing, and maybe even a little vindicating. Like he really saw me. Saw what I needed.
Only everything crashed and burned as it always does when I go at sex with full speed. I’d been devastated then, but as I’m quick to react, instead of reflect, I’d been with Ken soon after Cort, and then my life flipped in other ways that made the Cort-situation almost insignificant.
But now he’s back. Or at least, I’m stuck seeing him more often than I have in years.
And I’m just as befuddled.
The tender hand holds. The soft brush of his fingers on the underside of my wrist. What was he doing? Why was he doing it? And dammit, why am I stirred up by him again?
Shaking my head, I force my concentration back to the beesmoker options, reading off once again the attributes of each one.
“Vale?”
Like I’ve conjured him up, the rugged, surprised voice has me turning my head, flinching a little bit in additional confusion.
“Cortland?”
The very last place I expect to see Cort is standing in the aisles of my family’s business, dressed like he came here fresh from the Haven Hitters practice, complete with a backward baseball cap on his head.Damn, he looks good.
Taking a step closer to me, he glances at where I’d just been staring. “Smokers?”
While my insides leap at his nearness, my response is still snarky. “It’s for blowing smoke up someone’s ass.”
Cort snorts while his gaze drops to my backside before quickly looking away. “Well, that sounds . . . hot.” The corner of his mouth tips up just the slightest bit.
“Good one,” I counter, turning to face him. “What are you doing here?”
