I didn’t have to be looking at Claire to know she’d just rolled her eyes.
“We’re taking things slow.”
She snorted. “Well, now I know it’s serious. You have to promise me you’ll bring her over for dinner. I promise not to embarrass you too much,” Claire said, and then added under her breath, “though I might embarrass myself.”
I smiled, but kept my back to her so she wouldn’t see. “What about you?”
“Don’t start with me. Maybe I’ve got plans you don’t know about yet.”
I fit the drawer in its slot, rolling it back and forth a few times to make sure the movement was smooth before turning to tease my friend. “No, no, no. If I’m taking chances with my heart, maybe it’s time for you to do the same.”
She folded her hands under her chin and blinked several times. “Oh my apple pie. Jethro Winston, taking chances with his heart. I never thought I’d see the day.”
“Very funny. Now why don’t you tell me what’s going on with you and Billy?”
Claire stiffened. Her hands dropped and her smile dimmed. “What did you say?”
“You heard me. Why would you tell Billy that you and I were involved?”
Her smile vanished entirely. A flash of remorse and guilt passed over her features, almost too quick for me to see before she succeeded in masking her emotions. Claire was real good at this, hiding her feelings. It had been a survival technique, learned over the course of a bitter childhood.
“I never told him that.” Her tone was flat and defensive.
“Did you ever strongly imply that we were together?” I meant to tease her about this. However, based on her reaction, I was careful to keep my tone light but devoid of playfulness.
She said nothing, just glared at me with blue eyes that held so much wisdom it physically hurt to look at her. I knew she’d been ill-treated as a child. She was the only daughter of Razor, the president of the Iron Wraiths motorcycle club. Saying he’d been a bad father would be like calling Cletus mildly unconventional. She’d escaped the club when she was a teenager and had married Ben at eighteen.
Ben had treated her right, but I knew his gentleness could never make up for the years of abuse that came before.
I tried a different approach; I could usually charm her if the need arose. “If you didn’t imply it, did you infer it?”
She cracked a regretful smile, just a small one, and turned away. “I’m sorry.”
“You’re sorry for what?”
“I’m sorry if I’ve caused any problems between you and your brother.”
I stared at her back for a long time, watched her shoulders rise and fall as I waited. She said nothing. I swear, this woman was as stubborn as a boulder.
“Claire, I don’t know what’s going on, or what happened between you and Billy, but—”
“Nothing happened between me and . . .” she paused, rubbed her eyes with the base of her palms and took a deep breath, “between me and him, not for a long time. Not since before Ben. Not since we were teenagers.”
Not since we were teenagers . . . This was news to me.
I crossed my arms, seeing my good friend in a new light. “Well now, you got me feeling like I deserve some answers. I didn’t know anything had ever happened between you and Billy.”
Her shoulders fell and she shook her head. “It was so long ago, Jethro. I’m sorry if my silence on the matter caused you trouble, I truly am. I didn’t infer or imply. I promise. I just . . .” She lifted a hand to her chest and rubbed her ribs just beneath her heart, turning her head to give me her profile, like she couldn’t bring herself to look at me. “I just didn’t deny anything when he asked.”
“And what gives him the right to ask?”
“Exactly.” Now she did look at me, her eyes hard and her whisper fierce. “He doesn’t have a right.”
CHAPTER 22
“The greatest hazard of all, losing one’s self, can occur very quietly in the world, as if it were nothing at all.”
― Søren Kierkegaard, The Sickness Unto Death
~Sienna~
Jethro didn’t send me a selfie.
Instead he sent a picture of him and a gigantic black bear in the background. The bear was in a cage and was asleep or had been tranquilized. Jethro was crouching down next to the cage, but at a safe distance, not looking at the camera. My heart gave a happy leap, tingly pinpricks of warmth dancing beneath my skin. I smiled wistfully, at least it felt wistful on my lips.
He was so handsome to me. He was the handsomest.
Jethro: This is the only picture of myself I have on my phone. It’ll have to do.