The Cougar's Bargain by Holley Trent

Author:Holley Trent
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: F+W Media
Published: 2015-10-01T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Sean didn’t think it was his place to tell Hannah how much or how little she should drink, but he already knew she was going to be shit-faced in a matter of minutes. Sean had refused December’s offer of a beer, but Hannah was keeping a one-to-one pace with her brother. In an hour, between the two of them, they had probably drunk enough to fill a small aquarium.

Someone would be propping Hannah up on the way back to the motel, and Sean didn’t think it was going to be him, which suited him fine. They needed a cooling off. He didn’t regret anything he’d done—touching her, kissing her—but he needed to be sure she viewed it under the right lens. He’d exercised considerable restraint by slowing things down, but judging by her icy mood, it seemed she found some fault in that. Mate or not, maybe he’d never figure her out.

Same holds true for you, dipshit. Not like you’re especially revealing.

He rolled his eyes at the bar’s drop ceiling, and forced himself to refocus on the discussion at hand.

“So, let’s rewind.” Steven put down his hamburger and wiped his greasy hands on his shirt. “You’re giving me a lot of patchy information and you’re expecting me to hit a home run with it.”

Hannah snorted. “I’m not expecting you to do anything. It wasn’t me who challenged you to come on down.”

Sean gave his head a small shake and picked at the remnants of his club sandwich. She still hadn’t done what he’d suggested. The longer she beat around the bush, the longer it would take for them to do what needed to be done and get back to New Mexico. Mason may have told him not to concern himself with Belle, but Sean didn’t see how he couldn’t. The last time he’d tried to disengage from family shit had been just before his father died. Sean had been feeling restless. Stuck. He’d lashed out and had to isolate for a while.

It’d been a bad time to do it. Woodworks had been upside down in debt, and there’d been the tiniest chance they could have gotten caught up, but at his expense. His dad had wanted to contract him out to some developer putting up high-end tract housing in the middle of Nofuckinwhere, Texas. Sean had said no. He’d been tired of working so much and having nothing to show for it. “Fuck the future,” he’d told his dad. “How about right now? Don’t you care about that?”

Perhaps it had been his exhaustion talking, but at the time, Sean wouldn’t have taken anything back. He’d meant every word—that he didn’t want to be there, and that he didn’t care about working wood. He didn’t even care about the ranch.

He’d left, and no one had tried to woo him back. During that time, he’d believed he was dispensable—the third son. Not even the spare, but one extra beyond that. He wouldn’t have gone home at all, probably, if his father hadn’t died.

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