Trevor grimaces. “She wants to be a writer, and I wanted to give her some space to really try her hand at writing. I convinced her to come down here to take that time for herself and help me get this place off the ground. And because I’m her brother, she did it. I’m hoping that it helps her. But from what I just saw…”
I hold out a hand. “I know what’s upsetting her.”
His eyebrows rise in shock. “You do?”
“Yeah.” I clear my throat. “And just like you said, it’s not my place to tell you. But let me go talk to her. It might take some time. Make yourself at home, or if you want, we recently discovered that the diner down the road has some fucking amazing pie.”
Trevor chuckles. “Okay. Pie sounds good. Especially since it looks like the storm didn’t do too much damage. I’ll be back in an hour.”
“Make it two.”
He gives me a long look, and I’m not sure how to interpret it, but he doesn’t argue as he gets back into the car.
Now, I have to talk to Melena, and get her to understand the truth. That I want her more than I can say, and that’s never going to change.
11
Melena
I stalked over to this barn to get away from Trevor and Harlan, but when I saw the buckets of red paint, I decided it was just what I needed. An activity to get out all my frustration and confusion and aggression. The deep red paint looks a little too much like blood when wet for my liking, but it’s also strangely cathartic too to spread the violent color on the wood. I go at it roughly, and the paint soaks into the wood as quickly as I brush it on. I reach higher than I think I can, cover a bigger portion of the wall than I thought I could. I guess this is a productive way to process feelings.
I’m all mixed up inside, turmoil swirling, and I feel kind of stupid. I shouldn’t have let myself get my hopes up about Harlan and what kind of future he might want from me. The man propositioned me the minute we met. So boldly and graphically. How could I be so delusional to think that would be the beginning of a real relationship? And then I went and had sex with him. After years of waiting and believing I’d save myself for my wedding night, my vow flew out the window because of some sexy talk and candlelight. I came to this ranch to write my romance novel, not playact in one.
Shoving the paint harder against the surface, I scowl. I should have known. I should have seen the signs from a mile away. All the “accidental” touches, the flirtation, the gentle way he took me last night…I’ve never been so confused.
The heavy footsteps are all the warning I get before Harlan comes around the corner of the barn. His eyes are a storm of lust and determination, and he’s on me in moments, kissing me hard. There’s a split second where I think about saying wait, but who am I kidding?
I’m already kissing him back, already clinging to him as he pushes me into the barn’s wall completely ignoring the wet paint. The roller I’m holding is pinned between us, soaking us both with paint.
“I’m sorry,” he says. “I just spoke to Trevor, and it made sense to me why you walked out.”
I feel myself go pale. What did Trevor say? I already feel so out of control with Harlan, I don’t need my big brother making things even more complicated. “He told you why I’m here?”
Harlan shakes his head. “No, only that he hoped it would help you. He told me how the family wanted you to have the time to write your book. He made it clear that you would have to tell me why they felt like you needed to get away from the city.”
That, at least, is a relief. And I want to tell him about it. I know that I want to—even after everything, I know that he’ll listen and really understand me. And the way he’s touching me now makes me want to pour out everything in my heart to him. But I can’t. I’ve already been too free with my feelings. I need to be smarter. “I’m not ready to talk about it,” I say softly. “But I will tell you. At some point.”
He presses his forehead to mine and breathes the words. “Any time you want to tell me, I’ll be here. But let me see if I’m right. You walked away from me after some of the best sex of your life because of what I said about my family and about marriage, right?”
I bite my lip. I know it’s a tell, but I can’t fight the nervousness in my gut. “Well, yeah.”