Bad News Cowboy. Maisey Yates

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      “Is that going to be your solution for her?” Kate asked. “Going on a four-pie-a-day diet?”

      “Obviously not,” he said, sitting down at the table and snagging a beer out of the bucket.

      “What solution are we talking about?” Liss asked, crunching on a French fry.

      Connor returned then, setting a plate in front of Liss before setting places in front of the rest of the chairs, then taking his seat next to his wife. “Hey, Jack,” he said.

      “Hey,” Jack replied, putting a handful of French fries on his plate.

      “I brought fish,” Kate said. “It’s healthy. And you people are eating French fries.”

      “Don’t worry, Kate,” Jack said. “We’ll get around to eating your healthy battered fried fish in a minute.”

      “Solution?” Liss prompted, her eyebrow arched.

      “Alison stopped by the Farm and Garden today,” Kate said. “She had brochures for her bakery. And she mentioned that she’s hired on a couple of other women who just got out of circumstances similar to hers. But of course, it’s a new business, and she has a lot more overhead now since she’s renting out store space. Anyway, Jack and I were talking earlier about how we wish there was more we could do.”

      “So Jack was also at the Farm and Garden?” Connor asked.

      “I had to order a carburetor.” He ran a large hand over his jaw. His very square jaw. And she heard it. The brush of his palm over his dark five o’clock shadow. She swore she could feel the friction, deep and low in her stomach. And it wrapped itself around the general feeling of edginess firing through her veins.

      For some reason the line of conversation was irritating to Kate. Possibly because it was preventing her from figuring out just what Jack’s motives were where Alison was concerned. And even more irritating was the fact that she cared at all.

      For some reason a lot of little details about Jack’s life sometimes ended up getting magnified in her mind. And she overthought them. She more than overthought them; she turned them over to death. She couldn’t much explain it. Any more than she could make it stop.

      “So you obviously stopped by the bakery and bought pies,” Kate said, trying to speed things along.

      “Obviously,” Jack said, sweeping his hand in a broad gesture, indicating the still-stacked boxes of pie.

      “It was nice of you.” She was pushing now.

      “I don’t know that I’d go that far,” he said, shrugging his shoulder before pushing his fingers back through his dark hair. “But you know I was raised by a single mom who couldn’t get a lick of help out of her deadbeat ex. Stuff like this... I don’t like hearing about men mistreating the people they’re supposed to care for. It sticks with me.”

      Kate felt as though a valve had been released in her chest and some of the pressure eased. “Oh. Yeah. That makes sense, I guess.”

      Jack arched a black brow, his blue eyes glittering. “I know you don’t think I make sense very often, Katie. But there’s usually a method to my madness.”

      “Don’t call her that,” Connor said. “She hates that.”

      “Thank you, Connor,” Kate said, feeling exasperated now. “But I’m perfectly capable of fighting my own battles. Especially against Monaghan. He’s not the most formidable opponent.”

      “I’m wounded, Katie.”

      He’d said it again. That nickname that nobody else but Connor ever called her. But when Connor said it, it rubbed the wrong way, made her feel as if he was talking down to her. Like he was still thinking of her as a kid.

      When Jack said it, her skin felt as though it had been brushed with velvet, leaving a trail of goose bumps behind. It made her feel warm, made it hard to breathe. So basically the same as being rubbed the wrong way. Pretty much.

      Either way, she didn’t like it.

      “You’re a slow learner, Monaghan.”

      He chuckled and leaned back in his chair, crossing his forearms over his broad chest. “There are quite a few women who would beg to differ.”

      Her cheeks caught fire. “Shut. Up. You are so gross,” she said, picking up her plate with shaking fingers and serving herself a heaping portion of fish. No fries. Ungrateful bastards not eating her fish.

      She heard the door open again, and then Eli’s and Sadie’s voices. Now the gang was all here. And she could focus on playing cards, which was really what she wanted.

      Sadie led the charge into the dining room, holding her now-traditional orange-and-black candy bowl in front of her, a wide grin on her face. Eli was a step behind her looking slightly abashed. Probably because his fiancée was breaking sacred football laws by bringing the colors of an opposing team onto hallowed ground.

      But she did so every week. And every week, Connor made a show of not eating the candy in the bowl. Eli didn’t eat it either but didn’t make a big deal out of it. While Jack ate half of it without giving a crap what anyone thought. Which summed them all up, really.

      Kate always ate the candy, too. If only because she didn’t see the point in politicizing sugar.

      “Fish and chips!” Sadie exclaimed. “That makes a nice change from pizza. And pie!”

      “The feast is indeed bountiful tonight,” Liss said, eyeing the pie. “We have Kate to thank for that.”

      “Excuse me,” Jack said. “I brought the pie. I will have you all know that Katie has a lemon meringue pie hidden back in her cabin. And she did not bring it to share with you.”

      Kate lifted her hand to smack Jack on the shoulder, and he caught her wrist. Her heart hit the back of her breastbone so hard she was afraid it might have exploded on contact. His hand was so big his fingers wrapped all the way around her arm, holding her tight, a rash of heat breaking out from that point of contact outward.

      Her eyes clashed with his, and the sharp remark she’d been about to spit out evaporated on her lips.

      She tugged her wrist out of his hold, fighting the urge to rub away the impression of his touch with her other hand. “I didn’t bring it because I don’t want to share my pie with you,” she said, looking at Jack.

      “Selfish pie hoarder,” he said, grinning at her in that easy manner of his.

      And her annoyance tripled. Because him grabbing her wrist was a whole event for her body. And he was completely unaffected. That touch had been like grabbing ahold of an electric fence. On her end. Obviously, it hadn’t been the same for him.

       Why would it be? It shouldn’t be that way for you.

       Yeah, no shit.

      “I am not.” And she cursed her hot cheeks and her lack of snappy remark.

      “I might have to side with Jack on this one,” Liss said, her СКАЧАТЬ