Page 4 of Promise Me a Forever Texas Love

Her heart raced and her palm grew slick against the door handle. “No, now move your foot, Huck, before I slam this door on it.”

He didn’t move his foot. “Your eye is twitching, Cadee. And we both know what that means. It twitched when you told Mrs. Faust I wasn’t cheating off your history test. And when you told Denny Weaver the bowl cut his mama gave him looked real nice.” He paused. “And when you told your daddy that we just accidentally ran into each other the night he caught us swimming in the river.”

She didn’t know what made her angrier . . . him knowing her so well or him storing all those memories.

Her hand tightened on the door handle. “You want the truth, Huck? Are you sure? Because if I tell you the truth, there’s no going back. Once the truth is out, you’ll have to deal with it. And you’ve proven you’re not good at dealing with anything, or anyone, that needs a long-term commitment. Proven you’re not someone who will be there through thick and thin. So I think it would be best for everyone involved if you forget this conversation and do what you do best . . . walk away and never come back.”

His face seemed to lose all color. She thought for a moment he might pass out like he had the time he came to school without eating breakfast and the gym teacher had him running laps in the late August heat. Back then, she’d rushed over and knelt at his side, screaming at the teacher to call 911 until Huck had come to, grinned at her, and said, “Got a Little Debbie on you?”

Now she just stood there and watched the emotional battle play out on his handsome features. She didn’t realize how much she wanted him to prove her wrong . . . until he didn’t.

The moment she read the resignation in his eyes, it felt like a fist had closed around her heart. It squeezed even tighter when the corners of his mouth hitched up in the boyish, dimpled smile he’d used on every other girl.

“You always did know me best, Catydid.”

The nickname was the final nail in her emotional coffin.

He tugged on the battered Hooey trucker cap she hadn’t noticed him holding in his hand and tipped the curled brim as if she was just someone he passed on the street. “I guess I’ll see you in court.”

He turned and walked down the porch steps to his motorcycle while she stood in the doorway and watched. He straddled the seat, started the rumbling engine, then turned his cap backwards before sliding on the pair of sunglasses that had been hooked in the neck of his T-shirt.

Without a glance in her direction, he drove away.

After he was gone, emotions swirled around inside her like a cyclone.

Anger and hurt because he’d treated her like a complete stranger. Sadness because the sweet, soft-hearted boy she remembered was long gone. Guilt because she did know what he’d been through as a child and yet she still planned on contesting the will.

And all those emotions were wrapped up in a much stronger one. An emotion that had almost brought her to her knees when she’d opened the door and looked into his doubloon eyes.

CHAPTER TWO

“If you’re going to become a drunk, you should at least do it at a bar with a decent clientele.”

Huck swiveled on his barstool to see his sister, Poppy, standing there. He wasn’t surprised she’d found him. The country bar community in Texas was close-knit, and Poppy had performed at most of them with her ex-boyfriend’s band. Huck didn’t doubt for a second she’d put the word out about her missing brother and someone at Booby Trap had called her.

No doubt the bartender who, as soon as she got settled on the barstool next to Huck, placed a Shirley Temple down in front of her with four maraschino cherries. None of the Hennessys were heavy drinkers. That’s what happens when you spend most of your life watching other people drink and make fools of themselves at your family’s bar.

Huck had seen some crazy drunks in his life. Drunks who had started full-out brawls over whether Troy Aikman was one of the greatest quarterbacks to ever live. Drunks who jumped up on tables to strip, recite Bible verses or the Pledge of Allegiance. Drunks who had taken over the microphone on stage to sing “The Yellow Rose of Texas” or tell the sob story about how life had just punched them in the face.

Huck never thought he’d be one of those pathetic fools.

But after leaving Promise Springs, he’d spent the last few weeks visiting every dive bar in central Texas to drink . . . and ignore reality. He’d also ignored his siblings’ calls and texts. But the Hennessy Hooligans, as the folks of Promise Springs called them, had always watched out for each other.

Probably because their parents never had.

“So you want to explain why you took off without a word and worried the hell out of Jaxon and Dawson?” Poppy plucked a cherry out of her drink and popped it into her mouth, yanking off the stem and dropping it to the cocktail napkin. “I wasn’t worried at all, mind you. If you want to be an inconsiderate asshole like Daddy and take off without explanation, I couldn’t care less.”

It was a lie. Poppy’s problem had always been that she cared too much. She tried to hide her tender heart under a lot of sass and bluster, but the people who knew her well weren’t fooled for a second.

She took a sip of her Shirley Temple and wrinkled her nose. “Damn, Jess even sucks at nonalcoholic drinks. He used way too much grenadine.”

Huck poured himself another shot of tequila. “You should try straight tequila. It’s hard to screw up.” He went to down it, but she stopped him.

“I didn’t drive all this way to be your drinking buddy, Huckleberry.”

He set down the shot glass. “Then why did you come? Especially if you weren’t worried.”

“Because Jaxon, Tully, and I have our hands full running Honky Tonk Heaven and we need you. Especially now that Dawson is in California with Magnolia helping her pack all her stuff. My guess is that they’ll stay awhile to visit with her daddy. I’m sure Dawg will want to suck up to him before he asks for her hand.”