The Son & His Hope by Pepper Winters

Author:Pepper Winters [Winters, Pepper]
Language: eng
Format: epub, azw3
Published: 2019-02-12T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

Jacob

* * * * * *

“SO YOU’VE BEEN keeping Hope busy, I take it?”

I looked up from stabbing the roast chicken Grandpa John had made. Hope’s dad sat amongst my family for dinner, thinking he belonged but definitely didn’t.

Last night, we hadn’t finished bucking hay until well after midnight. The pizzas Mom had delivered to the barn kept us going until the last trailer load, then we’d all crashed into our respective beds, with Graham in the hotel he’d booked under an alias (no way was he sleeping in my mom’s house).

I’d been jealous of the relieved groans upon finishing. The achy muscles and tired waves goodbye.

That should’ve been me.

I wanted the bruises and blisters.

I wanted the sweat and blissful sensation of a cold shower after such hot, hard work. Instead, Mom and Grandpa John had ganged up on me, threatening to tie me to the TV for a week of forced rehabilitation if I didn’t drive the tractor while they had the fun job.

It unmanned me.

It made me feel lacking and argumentative and unneeded.

I hated that they’d known about my injury all along.

Couple that with the stress of telling Hope I couldn’t be what she wanted me to be…yeah, I hadn’t slept.

Then again, I hadn’t slept since I kissed her.

“Busy in what way?” I asked coldly. “We’ve both been very busy.” I meant to sound indifferent, but the sentence reeked of a challenge. As if I’d hinted Hope and I had been busy doing other things.

Goddammit.

I couldn’t trust myself anymore.

I couldn’t even speak without second-guessing everything I said.

Hope’s face heated beside her father as she gave me a small shake of her head. “I’ve been helping Jacob do some chores, that’s all.”

“That’s not all,” Mom cut in. “She’s been working so hard. Look at those biceps. If I didn’t know she came from Hollywood, I would’ve said she’d always been a farmer’s girl.”

Graham narrowed his eyes. “I said the same thing to her last night.” He gave me a glare. “As long as she’s a girl who farms and isn’t a farmer’s girl, it’s great.”

Hope shrank deeper into her seat.

I knew what Graham was hinting at.

And God, the temptation to claim she was mine, to announce we’d made out like animals danced on my tongue.

But I was no longer that guy. I’d done my utmost to be civil to her yesterday and I refused to continue making her life difficult.

Our fights only drew painful emotion from me when all I wanted was to treat her just like any hired help—safe and distant.

She wasn’t mine.

She would never be mine.

That was the way I wanted it.

The way I needed it.

With a quick glance at Hope, I said, “She’s whatever she wants to be.”

Hope flinched, her gaze welling with all the agony I’d painted her with yesterday. I hadn’t wanted to hurt her. In a way, she’d hurt herself. Not once did I encourage her crush on me. I’d done the opposite. I’d been cruel and short-tempered, and really, this mess was her fault.

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