Breaking Brent by Niki Green

Author:Niki Green [Green, Niki]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Romance, Erotic, Adult, Cowboy
ISBN: 9781609282783
Google: e2GiZY3LEuYC
Barnesnoble:
Goodreads: 8936955
Publisher: Samhain
Published: 2010-11-30T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Thirteen

Peyton hated what the mirror reflected. Her cheek was red and swollen and the three sharp lines running its length were scabbed. At least they weren’t oozing blood anymore. Damn Kathleen and the damned fingernails she paid a fortune for.

Disgusted with herself, her reflection and the fact that Kathleen had actually smacked her but good made this entire episode seem all the more vivid and memorable in her mind.

She took one more long look at her face in the mirror, applied a little more of the ointment that was supposed to help with the healing and then flipped the light switch off and moved from the downstairs bathroom.

Absently, she walked around her living room, picking up a discarded shirt here or a forgotten shoe there. She wasn’t a messy person, by any means, but she was far from a neat freak. The truth was she barely spent enough time at home for it to get messy or dirty or disturbed in any way. The only reason she made her bed in the mornings was because she loved climbing under the unwrinkled and pristine sheets at the end of the day.

Especially a day like today.

She and Reed and her grandfather had sat in the hallway of the barn for more than two hours before Murphy and her father had come out of the house. Nothing was said about their conversation—she knew better than to ask. Her father had hugged her and then left. Murphy had hugged her and left, and her grandfather had hugged her and given her the smelly ointment to put on her face.

She wondered if her parents now both knew just how messed up the whole situation with Murphy’s wife was.

Kathleen was crazy for sure. The proof was written all over Murphy’s and her own face. There was only one thing worse than a crazy woman—a crazy woman with unlimited assets. Kathleen was both.

Out of habit, Peyton checked her cell phone to see if she had missed any calls. She hadn’t missed a one. Murphy would call her tomorrow or come by. He’d said as much. Maybe it was a better sign that he hadn’t called.

Murphy would clean up the mess like he always did. Kathleen didn’t do anything. She didn’t work. She didn’t clean the house—she hired someone to do it.

Even with her thoughts occupied by her brother and his mess of a life, she couldn’t get her mind off him—off Brent. She was a fool to let herself even think about the what-ifs and what-could-have-beens that surrounded him. What had happened had happened—it wouldn’t again. She should regret it more than she did. She should regret what she felt—not the encounter itself. Sex was sex. That was that—nothing more. What was done was done.

There was nothing she could do about it now. She couldn’t take it back if she wanted to, and she wasn’t entirely sure she wanted to take it back. That made her a worse person than the one who had done it against the wall of a tack room at a wedding with two hundred people not twenty feet away.

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