What I Should’ve Said
Chapter 24

Bennett

My cheek stings from the shock of her palm, and Norah stares up at me with those big brown eyes of hers, the ones I’ve managed to memorize every facet of like the back of my hand.

And when the realization of what I just instigated settles inside the logical part of my mind, my heart takes off at a run, pounding inside my chest. Way to go, you dick.

I’m not even mad that she slapped me. I’m mad that I acted like I cared so much about that dumbass sheep farmer flirting with her and spouted a mouthful of bullshit at her because of it. Being cruel isn’t something I want to be, nor will I ever be proud of it.

“Norah, I—”

“What the hell? I thought we were getting along!” she shouts over me. “I thought things were gravy between us. I actually love working for you and I want to keep working for you, but you just had to prove me wrong by doing what you always do, and now you’re probably going to fire me even though I wasn’t the one acting like a total asshole!”

Fire her? Summer would be devastated. And she wouldn’t be the only one missing Norah’s presence.

“Norah, I’m not going to fire you.”

A deep sigh escapes her lungs, and I’m not even sure if she heard what I said because she dives right back into yelling at me. “Why, Bennett? Why do you always do that? How do you always do that? Up until I met you, I’d never slapped anyone! But you? You manage to get me so pissed off that I’ve now slapped you who even knows how many times at this point!”

The irony of what she’s saying isn’t lost on me. I’m not the only one making other people do crazy shit. “Join the club, sweetheart. I don’t make a point of getting arrested for punching people’s ex-lovers. Before you came barreling into Red Bridge, my life was a hell of a lot less dramatic.”

“Shut up!” She shoves a hand into my chest. “Just…shut up, okay? Shut up.” When I don’t say anything, she closes her eyes and leans her head back against the wall. “And why do you even care?” she eventually asks, her voice quiet.

“Excuse me?”

Her eyes open again and lock with mine. “Why do you even care that I was talking to Tad Hanson? Why do you care what I do or who I do it with?”

“I don’t.” Liar.

Norah stares at me. I stare right back at her.

“I don’t,” I repeat but replace myself stepping closer to her. “I don’t care,” I say, leaning down to meet her gaze at eye level. “Not one fucking bit.”

But the instant those words leave my throat, my mouth follows their path, and before I know it, before I can even make sense of it, we’re kissing.

I don’t know who started it, but I know that I’m not stopping it. And I know that her hands grip the material of my shirt as she pulls my body closer to hers.

A moan escapes her throat, and I feel it all the way to my cock.

Son of a bitch. This, right here, is the last thing I should be doing.

But she tastes so good.

I wrap my arms around her body, sliding my hands down the small of her back and over her ass, until my fingers grip the flesh of her thigh and lift it up to my hip. The silk material of her dress brushes against my skin, and a greedy little groan jumps from her mouth and into mine.

I should stop this.

She presses her hips against me, rubbing herself against my already hard cock through the material of our clothes.

But she feels too good.

Her breasts are pressed tight against me, and I feel them every time she takes a breath against my chest. Hell, I can feel the hardness of her nipples beneath her dress.

I. Need. To. Stop. This.

But you don’t want to stop it. You want to slide your hand farther up her thigh until your fingers are underneath her panties.

She kisses me deeper, and her hands replace their way into my hair. Her hips vibrate with need, pulsing her body against my still-clothed but hard-as-steel cock in rhythmic, needy waves. All the while, her tongue plays an erotic game of tug-of-war with mine.

Stop. This. Now.

“We shouldn’t be doing this,” I say, still kissing her, and I’m not sure if it’s more for her or for me.

“I know,” she whispers back, her persistent lips still working against mine. “We should stop.”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah.”

We don’t stop. If anything, it feels a lot like we’re only getting closer to me ripping her fucking panties off and sliding my cock inside her.

Oh, what you’d give right now to be able to fill her with your come. To be able to slide yourself inside her, as far as you can go, and stay there until you feel her climax wet your dick.

“Oh my gosh! I’m sorry!” A completely unfamiliar voice fills my ears, startling both me and Norah to finally fucking stop. In an instant we go from melded-together-like-a-second-skin to junior-high-dance-appropriate distance from each other.

I look down the dark hall, back toward the bar, to replace Sheila, Marty Higgins’s wife, standing there with big eyes. “I didn’t see anything, I swear!” Promptly, she covers both eyes with her hands, adding, “I’m… Yeah… Sorry,” before hurriedly spinning on her heels and heading back to where the crowd imbibes booze.

So much for getting some control.

Norah’s cheeks are flushed, and her lips are swollen from kissing. She nervously clears her throat and runs her hands down the front of her dress. “I…I’m going to go to the bathroom. I’ll…uh…I’ll see you…later,” she whispers before scooting herself the rest of the way down the hall and through the door labeled Ladies.

Time to get the fuck out of here.

I run a hand through my hair before I head back to the bar to close out my tab.

I knew it wasn’t a good idea to come here in the first place, and after witnessing Norah get cozy with Farmer Tad before kissing her—again—near the fucking bathrooms, it’s even worse than before.

Clearly, I can’t be trusted around her right now. And there’s no way I can get her warm brown eyes and wild hair out of my mind if I’m staring at them.

Clay approaches from the other side of the bar and stops directly in front of me. “So…quick question…” He pauses, and I don’t like the sly smile on his lips one bit. “Anything interesting happen back there?”

On a sigh, I look down the bar and replace Sheila standing by Marty. The instant we make eye contact, her eyes snap away from me like a kid who just got caught with their hand in the cookie jar. I should’ve known.

Eyes back to Clay, I see him offer one amused shrug of his shoulder. “Small-town news travels faster than diarrhea leaving a clenched asshole.”

Ain’t that the truth.

“So…” he continues, waggling his eyebrows like a fucking fool. “Is small-town news correct?”

“Don’t start with me, man,” I say, refusing to have the conversation the nosy prick would love to have right now. “I’m heading out.” I lay a hundred-dollar bill down on the bar to cover my tab.

“Nope.” He shakes his head and pushes it back toward me. “This one’s on me. I got this bottle just for us, and I owe you for a million and one favors anyway.”

“Thanks, Clay.”

I turn to leave, but the sound of his voice and his hand on my elbow stop me.

“Do you… Have you ever heard anyone talk about Jezzy?”

“Who?” I ask, wondering what the fuck Clay is on about and why he feels the need to get it off his chest now, when I very clearly need to get the hell out of here.

“Jezzy Ellis. Josie and Norah’s baby sister.”

I should be pissed at him for trying to keep the one woman I’m trying not to think about front and center in my mind, but instead, I’m too intrigued not to respond. “They’ve got another one?”

“Nah. She died when they were kids.” Clay shakes his head and purses his lips. “Legend is, their mama left her in the bathtub by herself while their daddy was out of town.”

“The fuck? You’ve gotta be shitting me.”

“Well, the thing is, it’s only legend. Autopsy was inconclusive and their mother was never charged, but I know from Josie tellin’ it, that’s probably what happened. They left town when their dad Danny died because there was no more shield against her being a town pariah.”

“Damn. No wonder Josie cut ties with that woman as soon as she could.”

“Tell me about it,” he comments with a frown. “The point of me telling you this is because Norah didn’t cut ties with their mother, not back then anyway. And the way I hear it, no one knows the whole story now. Not even Norah.”

“Okay?”

“Ben, I can see you’re struggling here because it’s complicated. But fuck, we’re all more complicated than anyone knows. That’s the point. You’ve got a past, and so does she. Letting her in? Seeing where it goes? What’s the worst that could happen? You and Summer fall in love with her?”

“We’ve both got pasts, but you’re forgetting she’s also got a present, Clay,” I comment on a sigh. “A fuckwad ex-fiancé with a fancy car and even fancier lawyers. There’s a lot more to this than falling in love with her. Plus, if she ever found out the truth about what happened to her sister, I’d be more worried about her falling in love with us—with Summer. It’ll end her.”

Clay purses his lips. “Falling in love with Summer is what’s gonna end all of us, Ben. But I guarantee you, it’ll be worth it, even then.”