Harlequin Desire January 2021--Box Set 1 of 2 Maisey Yates (sad books to read .txt) 📖

just happened tonight. Are you the kind of man who backs out of the deal?”

“Things have…”

“Changed for you. Because you were lying to me. But I was never lying. I was always being honest, and…”

“Except for the part where you thought that I was your brother, and you figured that you needed to… I don’t know, what were you trying to do exactly?”

“Get close to you, enough that I could say, ‘Do you suppose it’s possible your father cheated on your late mother, and he is perhaps my dad?’” He barely moved, but a muscle in his cheek flinched. “Yeah,” she said. “Exactly. It’s awful. And there’s really no good way to approach it. At least, not one I could think of. And believe me, I tried. I tried to think of something better than that. So yes, I guess I had ulterior motives too, but I also just want to run my ranch. And I need your help. And you promised me thirty days. Staying here. Free labor.”

“You’re in my bed.”

“So, you have a couple options. You get back in bed with me, you go to the bunkhouse with the spiders, or you go to my bed, where I may just end up.”

He sighed heavily, then came back down onto the mattress. “You don’t know what you’re playing with here, little Cricket.”

“There’s only one way I’m going to find out, though, isn’t there? By continuing to play.”

She took a deep breath, focusing on the tenderness in her chest. “In all honesty, Jackson, I am just really sick to death of feeling like I’m fundamentally wrong. And this felt right. So…why don’t we just keep on?”

“I lied to you,” he said.

“Yeah. But so what? I mean, we’re not friends. You lost a bet. End of story. You’re not my family, so we don’t have some kind of mystical connection like I thought we might. We are not…anything. So what does it matter? Your plan would’ve only worked if you could have talked me out of my dream, and quite frankly, if you could have talked me out of it, I would’ve deserved what I got.”

“Is that really what you think?”

“Yes. As it is, you were never even close to making me second-guess it. Because you know what’s harder than figuring out how to do chores and work a ranch? Growing up in a mausoleum. An altar to your father, when you don’t even like or respect the man. Being made to feel like you have to fit in, when you don’t particularly want to, or see the benefit of it. Yeah. That’s hard. And, well… I decided not to do it. I decided to figure this out. So I did. So I took it upon myself to figure this out. A few early mornings weren’t going to scare me off.”

“You’re a whole thing, aren’t you, Cricket?”

“Not by choice. It just kind of seems to be the way I am.”

He lay down next to her, and gathered her up against his body. She put her hand on his chest, tracing shapes over the broad expanse of muscle. “You seem like a man who might be able to handle a whole thing. And you kinda make me feel like less of one. Or at least like…this might be the place for it.”

“Sure, if you want to play… You know I’m here to play. But playing is all I got.”

“That’s okay. I’m trying to figure out my life. I’m trying to figure out what I want to be. Who I am. What it means… James is my father, most likely.”

“Are you going to ask your mother directly about it?”

She nodded. “I am. Because I need to know the truth. I’m afraid this is probably it.”

“Sometimes, you have to contend with things you don’t like about your parents. And I grant you, your dad is a hell of a lot worse than mine.”

“Your dad seems… Well, I mean, to me he really seems not bad at all.”

“He’s not, I suppose. But his relationship with my mom… I wouldn’t have been surprised if he’d cheated.”

“I’m sorry.”

“None of it’s your fault.”

“Well. I kind of put you in an awkward situation tonight.”

He shrugged. “My dad’s own behavior actually put him in that situation.”

“For what it’s worth… I used to look at your family and think… Well, I really wished that I could be part of it.”

“I guess that’s the thing, then. I never wished that I was part of your family. I suppose that’s the difference.”

“Yeah, there is imperfect, and there’s dysfunctional. Believe me, there’s kind of an important distinction between the two.”

“We might be skirting the edge of dysfunctional, here,” he said.

“Yeah, but I think we can both handle it. And we’re not dragging anyone else into it.”

He huffed. “True.”

“Might as well enjoy this. I have twenty-one days left of indentured servitude from you.”

And then suddenly she found herself pinned to the mattress, his large body over hers, his eyes glittering. “Might as well,” he growled.

And then, they were done talking for the rest of the night.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Jackson felt like an ass. He should have left last night when he’d said that he would, but Cricket had looked at him like she was a wounded puppy, and he couldn’t bring himself to do it. Still, there hadn’t been much of an excuse to stay. Except that he was weak. And human, and basically just a man. And she had presented a temptation he couldn’t turn away from.

Though it wasn’t just being a man, that was the thing, because if it was, then it would’ve been about her just being a woman, and fundamentally, he could have turned down any other woman. It was Cricket that was the problem. Cricket was a damn problem.

He was marinating on that as he drove into town for more lumber the next day. She had been up early, at the crack of dawn, without so much as a complaint, while he had been the one who’d had a hell of