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Beck puts his hands on his saddle. “Everybody needs to get laid, if you’re any indication. When was the last time you grunted as a response to someone?”

I actually have to think about that for a minute. “I…don’t remember.”

“Hm.” He climbs onto his horse. “The last time you had an angry outburst?”

I climb into the saddle too, taking the reins. “With Billie and Ryder.” Weeks ago.

“You’re gonna make that right, though? Because you’re a changed man now that Miss Lainey Brown’s worked her way into your tiny black heart?”

“Matter of fact, yes.”

Beck blinks, like he wasn’t expecting me to actually agree with him. “Gotta feel pretty dang good, not being grunt-y and angry anymore.”

Feels fucking fantastic.

I just hope I can hold on to that feeling for a little longer.

If I’m lucky, I’d like to hold on to it forever.

CHAPTER 27

Caught in the Act

LAINEY

“So what you’re saying is you’re not coming home for the holidays.”

I pinch the bridge of my nose and count backward from ten. “I’m not saying that. I’m saying I’m swamped trying to wrap up this project, and it’d save me a lot of time if⁠—”

“You are having Thanksgiving without us.” Mom pauses.

I hear Dad in the background. “That’s bullshit!”

Tears prick my eyes. The other night at the Wallaces’, I felt so good. The tension between Colt, Billie, and Ryder was still there, but it’s definitely mellowed some.

Then I got on the phone with Mom, and it’s easy to forget all that. I’m back in the vortex of her hurt and my shame. I hate it.

I don’t want to deal with it anymore. Yes, I’m excited to spend Thanksgiving with the Wallaces, but honestly, I’m just as excited not to have to deal with my parents’ bullshit.

Still sucks knowing I’m hurting them by staying on the ranch.

“Yes, I’ll be here for Thanksgiving. But I’ll be with y’all for Christmas, I promise. Please try to understand.” I’m fighting tears because I don’t want to cry. I want to have this conversation and move on. “You told me I need to work hard and get a real job, and that’s what I’m trying to do here. If I knock this project out of the park, who knows what doors it’ll open for me?”

Mom sighs. “If you say so. We’re just disappointed. It’s been weeks since we’ve seen you, and we were looking forward to having the family together.”

What she doesn’t say? She was also looking forward to having my help. The hurt in my own chest morphs to anger. I’m so, so sick of being the fill-in for the partner my dad is supposed to be.

“I don’t mean to disappoint you.” I manage to keep my tone even. “Like I said, I’ll be back for Christmas with bells on, all right?”

Another sigh. “Fine. We’ll miss you.”

“I’ll miss you too.”

“Good luck, Lainey.” And then Mom hangs up.

Staring at my phone, I don’t know whether to laugh or cry.

Turns out I made the right call: Thanksgiving at the Wallaces’ is a fucking delight. Beck’s tenderloin might have been one of the best things I’ve ever eaten (pun not intended). Colt still hasn’t forgiven his sister, but they were cordial enough. And everyone was in a festive mood. We drank excellent whiskey and wine. Had a dance party in the kitchen, led by Dean.