“I’m not jealous of her!” Aida said forcefully.
“I was just making a comparison. It was the best I had,” Major said with a shrug.
“Don’t,” I warned him again before he said something I couldn’t forgive.
“Mase is my cousin! Why would I be jealous of who he dates?” Aida spat out angrily.
Major turned his attention back to Aida. “Because you’ve always been jealous of anyone who has taken his attention off you, be it me, Harlow, or, hell, a damn horse. Because ever since you turned sixteen and the hormones kicked in and you realized there’s not one drop of blood shared between you two, you’ve been obsessed with him. He can’t see it, because he doesn’t see you that way. But I can see it. You do anything you can to get his attention. Problem is, you’re missing the big picture. He sees you as his cousin and nothing more.”
What? Where had Major come up with this? Aida didn’t think of me like that.
Aida stood up and ran out of the kitchen without a word. What the hell?
“Someone needed to say it,” Major said, then leaned back and took a drink of his sweet tea.
“I’d better go check on her,” Momma said, turning off the stove. “You two can help yourself to the bacon.”
I watched as Momma went out the door to look for Aida.
“You didn’t know, did you?” Major asked.
Know what? That Aida had a thing for me? Fuck, no. “I don’t think you’re right,” I told him.
He chuckled. “Yeah, I’m right. Did your momma correct me or reprimand me? No. She went after Aida. She knows I’m right, too. We all saw it. Just not you.”
Shit. What was I supposed to do with this? I knew Aida had been different since I’d brought Reese home. When Aida wasn’t around, I didn’t think about her or worry over her like I did with Harlow. We weren’t that close.
“She always wanted to do things with just you. ‘Take me dancing, Mase.’ ‘Let’s go riding, Mase.’ ‘Some boy broke my heart, hold me, Mase.’ All that shit was ridiculous, but you did it anyway, never once realizing what she was after.”
I didn’t say anything, because . . . I was afraid he was right.
“Hell, it’s a good thing it was you she wanted. If it had been me, I’d have fucked her. I have no morals. Besides, she’s adopted, so I’m not really related to her, either. And her legs are pretty damn nice.”
Shaking my head, I stood up. I couldn’t sit here and listen to this. I needed to be alone. Figure out how to talk to her now. She’d just made this awkward, and she needed to go home. I couldn’t have her here around Reese anymore. Not with this crazy shit going on in her head.
Reese
“That man of yours is a fine specimen. Seeing him all caveman and protective over you is hot,” Piper said with a wink. She was dressed in skintight jeans, brown leather riding boots, and a flannel shirt that was tied at her waist, showing off her flat stomach. “This is the office you’d be working in,” she said, pointing toward a large barn door. “Let’s go on inside and talk.”
“OK,” I said, as she turned and headed for the door. I was nervous. Since the moment Mase had let go of my hand and left, my heart had been pounding in my chest and my throat felt tight. This was it. My chance at a job that could help me in life and really get me somewhere.
The door opened, and I took a moment to look around. The ceiling went all the way to the roof of exposed wooden beams. Large Edison bulbs hung from long cords from the ceiling, casting the room in flattering light. Bookshelves lined the back wall, and three tall file cabinets were against the left side of the room. A computer with a massive screen sat on a whitewashed wooden table. Two brown leather chairs were across from the desk, with a small round barrel functioning as an accent table between them.
Piper took a seat in one of the chairs and waved for me to take the other.
“So,” she said, crossing her legs and draping an arm across her thigh. “Mase informed Arthur that you don’t have any experience with horses or the type of work I would require. He did say that you were a hard worker and he believed you could do anything you put your mind to. What I want to know about is you. What you think you can do. What you want to do.”
This was it. I would have to tell her about my dyslexia now. No point in going any further if this was unacceptable for her. I unclenched the tight fist in my lap and took a deep breath. I had nothing to be ashamed of. I was not stupid. I had learned to read, and my writing skills had improved ever since Mase began teaching me.
“First, I want you to know that I do have dyslexia.” I didn’t pause and give her time to say anything. “Until I met Mase, I couldn’t read or write. He came into my life and helped me identify the root of my problem, and then he got me help. I read daily to him, and I also write daily in a journal, which Mase reads over to check my spelling. I’ve worked hard to get to where I am. However, when I’m in a tense situation and feel pressured, I can misspell something or possibly freeze up and not be able to write at all. I understand if this is something you don’t think will work with your needs. However, I do want this job, and I will do my very best to make you happy.”