“Depends on which body part you ask,” I admitted.
Rudy grinned at that.
“It’s not funny,” I moaned. “Ugh. Maybe I’m doing this all wrong,” I said, tipping my head back against the couch and staring at the ceiling. “Maybe I should take a cue from you and just play for my same team.”
Rudy snorted. “Girl, it’s not about same team. It’s the fact that men are too irresistible for their own good. And judging from the photos I saw, Easton Raines is in a league of his own.”
“I think it’s just more proof I’m bad at picking men.”
Rudy glowered, and I knew he was about to start spouting some next-level mindset advice at me. I braced myself, ready to head him off even if it meant divulging my plans to hang with East tomorrow.
A knock interrupted us both.
“You expecting someone?” I asked hopefully. “A repairman to adjust the water heater, maybe?”
He stood and hurried to answer the door, silent enough that I had my answer about that.
Damn.
I rose and rounded the corner into the foyer just as Rudy pulled the door open and his reaction registered.
One look at his curled lip, and I knew who stood on the other side of the threshold.
“Is Cat home?” asked a familiar voice.
“No, she died. You should give up and never call or come by again,” Rudy said.
“What?” Travis sounded more confused than upset.
I sighed and nudged Rudy out of the way. Bracing a hand on the door for strength, I looked at my ex. He held a bouquet of roses out, but I made no move to take them. Or invite him in.
“Hello, Travis.” My stomach lurched at the sight of him. At my own fear. And nerves. And fury.
“Cat.” His expression sagged in silent apology. “I’ve been calling.”
“I’ve been not answering.”
“I wanted to apologize.”
Rudy muttered some curse words that shouldn’t have made sense together but seemed to fit. Something about douche-canoes and shitbags.
“Go ahead,” I said, resigned to this moment even as my pulse raced.
I hated that I was afraid.
“What?” Travis said.
“She said you should apologize,” Rudy snapped.
Travis frowned. He slid a look at Rudy then back to me as if to cue me in that he wanted us to be alone. I ignored it and waited.
“Right.” Travis looked back at me. “I’m so sorry, Cat. I never meant to hurt you.”
“Are you saying you weren’t aiming for my head when you threw that vase?”
He had the grace to look slightly cowed by my words. But his quick recovery reminded me this was all an act.
“I lost my temper. It happens to all of us.”
“You accused me of cheating and nearly shifted in my office.”
“Nearly, but I caught myself,” he said as if clawing at the walls of the break room didn’t count against him as long as he’d remained on two legs.
“I had staff in the building, Travis. Someone could have been killed.”
“But they’re fine. Everyone’s fine.”
“You’re not fine,” I shot back. Anger had begun to boil underneath my skin. I could already feel the flush creeping into my face. “I’m not sure what you’re hoping to get from me by showing up here.”
“I was hoping we could start over.” The sincerity in his tone made me want to throw something, too.
“That’s a fantastic idea,” I said, my hand gripping the door even tighter.
Travis’s expression brightened. “See, this is all going to be—”
“Let’s start over right now by pretending we never even met. And then, let’s keep it that way.” I swung the door shut in his face, satisfied by the hard click.
Rudy rushed forward and slid the lock into place.
A second later, Travis knocked. “Cat, c’mon. We can get past this.”
Rudy met my eyes.
I hesitated, wondering if Travis was going to be a problem or if I’d somehow just made things worse.
But then, Rudy grinned. “Up top, girlfriend.” He raised his hand, palm out.
A slow smile spread across my lips. I high-fived him. “How’d I do?”
“You fucking nailed it. Come on. Let’s finish our movie and then never think of that raging asshole again.”
He linked his arm through mine and led the way back to the couch.
7
Easton
The moment I stepped inside The Bearded Barrel, I realized my mistake. The place was crowded for a weeknight, thanks to tourists, but my awareness cut through them all. My eyes landed immediately on the hunched set of shoulders at the end of the bar. In the next breath, my wolf had scented him, confirming it.
Shit.
I hesitated, debating whether to turn around and walk out again. But leaving town was one thing. Running from the old man was another.
I slid onto the stool, two seats over from him, and focused on the bartender.
“What’ll you have?”
I didn’t recognize the hipster in flannel behind the bar, but that didn’t mean he didn’t know me. I kept my hat pulled low.
“Dirty Dog,” I said, naming one of the brewery’s signature beers.
“Comin’ up.”
The bartender moved off, and my senses prickled as I realized I’d been spotted.
“Easton, my boy, how the hell are ya?”
I braced myself as I turned and looked into the sparkling—glassy—eyes of my old man.
“Dad.”
“Well, it’s been a minute or two since you been home. Lemme look at ya.” He gave me a once-over that made me tense. “Handsome as ever, ain’t ya?” He winked. “Lookin’ like your old man more every day.”
Ten years had taken its toll on him. Dark bags under his eyes. A beer gut. But his ability to pretend like he wasn’t a shitbag was clearly as strong as ever.
The bartender returned with my beer. I grabbed for it, a little desperate.
My knee twinged.
I ignored it and drank deeply.
By the time I came up for air, Dad was chatting again. He was always chatty at this stage of the night.
“Didn’t see your truck at the house last night. Or this morning.”
“I’m not staying at the house.”
His brows crinkled. “Why the hell not? Your old room is still made up.”
“I’m staying at Nicole’s.”
Dad
