“Yousleephere?” He looked around. “Where?”
“Above the brewery. My apartment overlooks the street.”
His tired brain processed that information. Strategically, it made perfect sense. He’d imagined her leaving the brewery late every night, with someone monitoring her and her schedule, figuring out when she’d be alone and most vulnerable. The brewery itself, on the other hand, was built like a fortress. She’d be safe inside it unless the drug dealers brought assault weapons and dynamite, and he didn’t give Grand’s local criminal element that much credit for foresight or initiative. She’d also save money.
“You’re living a college freshman’s dream. Come on. Let’s go find my car.”
They brushed shoulders as they passed through the cramped driveway and onto the street. His Jeep was parked under a hackberry planted at the edge of an apartment building’s postage stamp-sized lawn. It had rained hard earlier in the day and the air was still fresh with damp earth.
He wasn’t surprised to discover that Hannah was an excellent driver—the same brother who’d taught her to maintain a vehicle would also have taught her to drive. She followed the river along Yellowstone Drive toward the outskirts of town.
Now that they were alone, with fifteen or so minutes to kill, he was at a loss as to how to begin. He hated to ruin the truce they’d established, but he had to know what had gone wrong.
And, more importantly, if it could be fixed.
“Contrary to how it might have appeared, Simone and I aren’t, nor have we ever been, involved in any sort of relationship,” he said, leaping in. “I’m not sure how she got the impression otherwise. She used to date Dan, which puts her out of bounds. I thought we were friends.”
“‘I did not have sexual relations with that woman,’” Hannah intoned.
“Funny.”
She glanced at him sideways. The way she drew her chin in, closing herself off, suggested she didn’t wish to discuss it. She’d seemed pretty snitty about Simone though, so he wasn’t convinced she was truly indifferent.
“You don’t owe me any explanations, Dallas. Who you sleep with is none of my business.”
“Really? You aren’t even the least little bit curious?”
“Not in the slightest.”
“Good to know. But I’m curious as hell as to why you slept with me,” he said, putting it out there.
The Jeep veered toward the side of the road. He grabbed the handle above the passenger side window and braced for impact, but Hannah straightened the tires without any issues.
Her shoulders tightened in a defensive reaction, suggesting he’d struck a nerve. “It doesn’t matter.”
“Yes, it does.”
She clung to the wheel and took her time coming up with an answer. Long enough, in fact, that whatever it was, it didn’t bode well.
“Fine,” she said. “But please don’t judge me.” She drummed her thumbs on the steering wheel and stared at the white pavement markings slipping under the tires. Then she took a deep breath, and blew it out, along with her words. “I wanted to get even with my boyfriend for cheating on me.”
He’d suspected he’d been used—Ryan had planted that possibility—but hearing it confirmed made it real. He’d hoped there’d been a mutual attraction. Instead, she’d been hung up on another man. At least it all made sense to him, now. He’d never quite been able to figure out how the boyfriend fit in. What kind of idiot cheated on a woman like Hannah?
“And I was convenient,” he said, because he liked torturing himself.
“You were good-looking, tons of fun, and I was flattered by your interest in me,” she corrected him. “But cheating on him makes me a cheat too, and that isn’t me.” She backpedaled a bit. “Well. I guess it is me, isn’t it? But it’s not who I want to be.”
He was beginning to get it. She was embarrassed by her motives more so than her actions, which amazingly, took away a lot of the sting. “It doesn’t make you a cheat. It makes you human.”
“I guess.” She didn’t sound as if she agreed.
A right turn in the road would take them over the Tongue River bridge toward the Wagging Tongue Ranch. They kept going straight, and in another few miles they’d reach the Endeavour, so he didn’t have much longer to forge some sort of understanding with her. She wasn’t ready to let go of the past. He could understand that.
But he’d like to be part of her future and he could be patient.
“What about your boyfriend?” he asked. “Was his affair the dealbreaker for you? Or did he call it quits for good when you told him about us?”
“He doesn’t know about you. We split up before the wedding and he moved out of our apartment while I was in Sweetheart. I haven’t talked to him since.”