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Shine Not Burn(55)

By:Elle Casey

“B and C?” I asked.

The two brothers smiled devilishly, first at their father and then me, twin gods - so alike and yet so different - arresting my heart for a full two seconds. Adorable? MacKenzie be thy name.

“B and C’s just a little nickname we have for branding and castration,” said Ian.

My stomach turned over, all visions of the MacKenzie gorgeousness fading to be replaced by the idea of burning skin and sliced body parts. “You actually do that?”

“Yes, we actually do that,” Angus said, smiling patiently, “just like ranchers all over the world.” He stood. “Come on, Boog. I’ve got something to show you. You too, Ian. I’m putting you on the tails.”

“I prefer the heads,” said Ian, his good humor gone. He walked out of the room with his father and Boog behind him.

Angus’s voice faded out into the air on the porch. “Well, when you’re in charge, you can be wherever you want. Tonight you’re on the tails.”

Mack and I were left alone in the dining room. I opened my mouth to speak, but he turned to follow them before a single word had come out, effectively cutting me off. I huffed out a sigh of frustration and put my hands on my hips. Annoyance and hurt gave me the courage to speak even though it was clear he had no interest in listening. “You’re just going to go without saying anything?” It was making me crazy how he was acting like this whole situation was something he could just ignore. How can he be so unaffected and casual about everything when I’m not even sure which end of my world is up anymore?

“I have work to do.” He didn’t look at me; he just stared out the glass doors to the back porch, absently pulling a well-worn baseball hat out of his back pocket.

“Yeah, well, I have a wedding to get to, so if you don’t mind, I’d like to talk to you about our divorce.” The last word almost got stuck in my throat. The idea of divorcing a man like him felt completely wrong, which is absolutely crazy, ridiculous, and stupid beyond measure. But I could no longer fight the feeling than I could change the fact that I’d somehow, for some reason I didn’t yet fully understand, married this man after only knowing him for a few hours.

He faced me, putting his hands on the back of his chair and letting the hat dangle off to the side in his fingers. His tone went cocky. “I don’t think we need a divorce, actually.”

I lifted an eyebrow at him. “Oh yeah? How so?”

He shrugged. “Because I don’t think we’re married. No marriage, no divorce.”

I snorted. I might be waffling around about my feelings or emotions, but I know my legal paperwork. There was no denying what’s in black and white as much as we might want to. “Oh, we’re married, trust me.”

“Says you.”

I bristled, lifting my chin in defiance. “Says the State of Nevada and your signature on the marriage license.” Dumbass jerk butthead cowboy redneck sexy person. God, why does he have to be so sexy!

“Could be forged.”

My jaw dropped open at the accusation that lay beneath his words. “Why on earth would I forge your signature to a marriage document when I don’t even know you?”

His eyes burned into mine. “I think the better question is why would you even marry me in the first place if you didn’t know me?”

The room went dead silent. A cuckoo clock started doing its thing in the next room, the clacking sound of the little bird’s door following each of its cries.

Cuckoo!

Cuckoo!

Cuckoo!

Cuckoo!

Cuckoo!

Cuckoo!

Mack was right. So was the damn clock. We both had to be completely crazy to have done what we did in Vegas. My pie threatened to make another very unpleasant appearance, my stomach burning with embarrassment, anger, and something very much like sadness. We were crazy two years ago. Crazy in love. The words haunted my soul and refused to be buried in the darkness anymore.

“Like I said,” he continued in a softer voice, “I have to get to work. Maybe we can chat later.”

He left me standing at the dining room table with tears shining in my eyes.





Chapter Twenty-Two





“AWW, SWEETIE, WHAT’S WRONG?” ASKED Maeve, coming into the room and stopping at my side.

I hurriedly wiped the tears away. “Oh, nothing. I got pepper in my eye.”

She pulled her head back in confusion. “Pepper? How’d you get pepper in your eye?”

I waved her question away, trying to distract her. “Did you find a taxi for me?”

She shook her head sadly. “No, I’m sorry, but I guess they’re all full right now.” She went around the table picking up dishes and leftover food. She left me alone in the dining room, carrying everything into the kitchen.