Page 88 of The Lucky Heart (Jamison Valley 3)
“Uh, I’m sorry,” I stuttered, shocked that Elliot had chosen to greet me this way.
Not once in the month that I had been with his son had he come over to say hello, and Silas had never wanted to go over to their house in the evenings. I had remembered Elliot as being such a gentleman. Clearly, things had changed.
“You’re sorry?” Elliot mocked. “Maybe you can be sorry enough to consider the fact that there are people here trying to work and make a living. But since you know nothing about running a ranch, I guess I can’t be all that surprised. Maybe I’ll just hope you realize soon enough that you don’t belong here and leave again. If I’m lucky, maybe you’ll stay gone this time.”
All I could do was blink as Elliot spun around and left just as quickly as he had entered.
I stood frozen, trying to process Elliot’s blow until I heard Silas turn off the shower. I came unstuck and walked back to the kitchen before he could tell I was upset. Nothing good would come from me telling him what exactly his father had said.
“Did someone come over?” he asked.
“Your dad,” I said, rinsing a plate. “He asked me to move my car.”
“Oh, okay. Mom must have parked it in a bad spot. Let me throw some clothes on and I’ll do it.”
“All right.” A few minutes alone would give me a chance to recover.
“I see he didn’t bother to take his boots off,” he muttered as he walked to the stairs. “What an ass.”
Yeah. He could say that again.
“Are you okay?” Silas asked me the next morning.
“I’m great!” I lied. “Excited to see what this fencing jazz is all about.”
He chuckled. “That’s the most enthusiasm I’ve ever heard someone express toward fencing.” He tossed me a sweatshirt from his closet. “Here, pull this on. We’ve got one thing to do before we get to work.”
I pulled it on and took a long breath. Silas’s scent filled my nose and went a long way toward easing the worry caused by Elliot’s harsh words last night. I’d been mentally replaying them on repeat, and I still couldn’t figure out what I’d done to anger him so much. I hadn’t even been the one to park in the bad spot! Jerk.
I didn’t care if fencing was a miserable job. At least it would be something else to occupy my thoughts.
“Am I going to get that sweatshirt back?” Silas asked.
“It’s doubtful.” This would make the third sweatshirt now happily hanging in my closet instead of his.
He smiled and wrapped his arms around me. “If I let you keep it, will you tell me what’s bothering you?”
I dropped my forehead to his chest and let him pull me closer. Part of me wanted to brush off his question just to keep the tension between them from rising, but honesty was so important to me that I had to fess up. “Your dad wasn’t overly pleasant last night. He was actually kind of a jerk.”
“Fuck,” he hissed and let me go. “I’m sorry, babe. I’ll talk to him.”
“No, don’t do that.” I had a feeling it would just grow Elliot’s anger toward me. And really, I could take some rude comments. I’d dished out enough in my lifetime to know that maybe Elliot had just been in a bad mood and the next time we met, he’d be more pleasant.
“No way. He doesn’t get away with it.”
“I’ll be fine. He just rubbed me the wrong way. Please, don’t talk to him.”
He shook his head. “No.” At his sides, his fists were clenched. If he lost his temper at his dad, Elliot and I wouldn’t have a chance at starting over.
“Please, Silas.” I walked into his space and reached up to frame his face, forcing his eyes to mine. “Please. I know it goes against your alpha-male ways, but please, just let this one slide. For me?”
He let out a deep breath and relaxed his fists. “Fine. Just this time.”
“Thank you.” I dropped my hands from his face and wound them around his waist.
He hugged me back. “Come on, sweatshirt thief. I’m taking you on a ranch tour before we get to work.” He let me go to grab my hand and lead me down the stairs. When we got outside, we bypassed his truck and headed inside the barn.
“I thought you wanted to do a ranch tour.” I was looking forwar
