Freshly dressed in jeans and a blouse that somehow brightened the blue in her eyes, she stared at him coldly. It looked forced. He understood why, though. He vividly remembered how she tasted, how she looked when she smiled lovingly at him. He remembered it all. But she wanted to show him she no longer felt that way. She stopped in front of him, giving him a thorough once-over. “You look good, Sullivan. Different, but good.”
“Different, how?”
She tilted her head, analyzing him in a way no other woman had analyzed him. Clara knew him. All his faults. All his weaknesses. All his pain. “Strong…old.”
He lifted a brow at her. “I look old?”
“Yup.” She strode by him.
He stared after her like a damn fool. “It’s only been seven years since I’ve seen you. I can’t look that old.”
“Just shy of seven,” she answered, heading off to the barn.
Of course, this gave him a fantastic view of her spectacular ass. An ass he had no business looking at. He forced his eyes up. “Wait up,” he called then jogged to catch up to her.
When she finally reached the barn, she turned back to him. “Fine. You look older. Is that a better choice of word? I’ve never known you to be the sensitive type, Sullivan.”
He wasn’t the sensitive type. Yet, she was getting right under his skin. “I’ve never known you to be so outspoken, Clara.”
She gave him a leveled look. “People change.”
“Yeah, they do.” And that’s exactly what had brought him there. To her. To face the damage he’d done in hopes of finding peace. “I heard about Pops’ passing. I’m sorry you lost him. I know how close you were.” Clara’s grandfather had been good people. Sullivan wouldn’t bother with an apology for not calling or coming to the funeral. He didn’t have a good excuse.
Her eyes saddened for a moment, and her pace slowed. “Pops would have loved to see the brewery flourish, so how about we go and find the others?”
For a split second, in her sadness, he saw the old Clara. His Clara. He didn’t know what motivated him to grab her hand, stopping her, but his fingers soon wrapped around hers. Her gaze snapped to his, and she jerked away. “Do not touch me, Sullivan.”
He shoved his hands into his pockets. “I’m sorry. I just…” Want to apologize. Want to explain. Want to fix all this.
“What you want is not relevant here,” she snapped, striding away.
Knowing he deserved that, he blew out a long breath and followed her into the barn. Rows of tanks lined the old building, which admittedly, didn’t even look all that old anymore. The barnwood had been stripped and re-stained, the floors coated with new lacquer.
“As you can see, we’re set up to handle the quantity needed for distribution,” Amelia said as Maisie led Ronnie out from the back. Amelia followed then gestured to her right. “We’ve got tons of room to expand.”
Ronnie stopped and glanced around with an unreadable look. Truth was, Sullivan wasn’t close to his uncle. But being the only family he had left, they kept in touch over the years with a phone call on holidays and birthdays.
“I’m liking what I see,” Ronnie eventually said. He looked around once more, studying the impressive space. “Give me a couple days to examine your proposal and talk with the team about a plan.”
Clara gave a very polite smile. “We look forward to hearing from you.”
Sullivan nearly snorted. They both knew they had something great here that would benefit them both. He kept the thought to himself as Ronnie said his final goodbyes. When his uncle was heading back to his truck, Sullivan said to Amelia and Maisie, “It’s hard to believe you’re the two little ankle bitters I used to know.” They were women now, but he could still see the mischievous glint in Maisie’s eyes and the warm affection on Amelia’s face.
“Well…” Maisie replied. “That’s what happens when someone leaves and never comes back.”
He deserved the dig. “You’re right, it does.” He sank his hands into his pockets, realizing he had two more people to make amends with. Not that he was surprised, the Carter sisters were close, especially Clara and Amelia. “I hear congratulations are in order.” Maisie had just become engaged to Sullivan’s old buddy Hayes.
An honest smile crossed her face. “Thanks. Hayes and I are very happy.”
“Sullivan,” Ronnie called.
Looking over his shoulder, he found his uncle frowning, waving him forward. Turning back to the sisters, he said, “It’s really good to see you’re all doing so well.”
“How long are you in town?” Amelia asked, and the question didn’t feel friendly.
“A month.”
A month too long, Amelia’s expression screamed at him.