Grin and Beard It(118)

“I did nothing,” I seethed between clenched teeth, tossing the axe to a nearby stump so I wouldn’t throw it at Billy’s head.

Billy’s frown intensified. He clearly didn’t believe me. Judgment was written all over his face, and in that moment I hated him.

Without thinking I asked, “What’d you do to Claire?”

Billy flinched, the stone steadiness of his expression cracking with surprise. “What?”

“You heard me.” I wiped the back of my hand across my brow. “What’d you do to her? Why does she hate you so much?”

Billy blanched as though I’d sucker-punched him, and I was immediately remorseful for asking the question.

This, what I was doing, the mind games, the lashing out, wasn’t who I was. Even at my worst, I’d never done this shit. This was my father; this was how he operated.

And now I hated myself, too.

Before I could apologize, Cletus stepped between us. “This ain’t about Billy, this is about you deforesting the Great Smoky Mountains National Park for superfluous firewood, firewood that’s about as useful as a screen door on a submarine. Now, I’ll ask you again, what happened with you and Sienna?”

The fight drained from me, leaving my body tired and my head pounding and my chest hurting. “We’re over.”

The words felt final and wrong, rang empty and desolate, hung heavy in the stagnant summer air.

I’d been repeating them to myself, trying them on, because I couldn’t figure a way around the mountain of my past. But I also couldn’t let her go.

And because I was growing desperate, I was also trying on her idea of dating in secret. Unfortunately, that suggestion, thinking on the ramifications of it, led me to destroying the upstairs framework in the carriage house. So I’d moved to the woodshed.

Maybe by the time I cut down this tree, I’d be more at peace with her proposal of a concealed relationship.

“Fuck.” I shook my head. “Maybe we’re not over. I don’t know.”

Cletus placed his hands on his hips. “Why are you over? Did something happen at Daisy’s?”

I shook my head. “No. She got a call from her sister on the drive back. Sienna has a . . . a thing. A movie premiere in London she’s got to go to this week, and she needs to bring a date.”

Cletus scrutinized me, as though he expected me to continue. When I didn’t, he prompted, “So? What’s the problem?”

“So . . .” My gaze flickered to Billy. He was back to stonewalling me, his arms crossed, his mouth a rigid line. “So, it can’t be me.”

Cletus tsked impatiently. “Why can’t it be you? You got plans or something? A cake to bake?”

“Because, Cletus, then everybody would know about us. Because, if we go public, then news people will dig into my past. And how do you think America’s sweetheart is going to look saddled with me? An ex-con named Jethro, from backwoods Appalachia, with a GED and an album full of arrest photos.”

Cletus’s frown was severe, fuming. “You’re not an ex-con. You were never convicted.”

“Same difference. I didn’t get caught, but I did it. We all know I did it.”

Cletus’s eyes moved over me. “So she broke it off.”

“No.” I shook my head, a humorless laugh tumbling from my lips. “I’m breaking it off. I’m going to have to break it off.”

“You?” Billy asked abruptly, another fracture of surprise in his granite-like expression.

“Yes. Me.”

“Why?” Billy pressed, clearly captivated by my words.

“Because I can’t do that to her,” I ground out between clenched teeth, yelling at him, feeling wretched all over again, angry all over again, hurting all over again. “I can’t wreck her career, her image. I can’t do that. You don’t do that to someone you lo—”

I was about to say love. I turned, gave them my back.

You don’t do that to someone you love.

Damn it all to hell, but I was in love with Sienna Diaz.

Falling for her had been like breathing. Natural, easy, necessary. Inescapable. And the thought of spending the rest of my days without her had me drowning in panic.

Cursing, I moved to pick up the axe but was intercepted by Cletus. “Whoa. Wait. Wait a minute.” His hands were again held out between us, his eyebrows suspended over concerned eyes. “Now hold on. What did she have to say?”

I shrugged. “It doesn’t matter.”

“What she wants doesn’t matter?” he baited.

“I didn’t say that. Of course what she wants matters.”

“Then what does she want?”