Page 32 of Easy On Me

His jaw could have been hewn from granite, though. I folded my arms, and he followed the movement, mouth tightening so his lips disappeared.

“She doesn’t matter anymore,” he said, his voice quiet. He took a step to the outer edge of the sidewalk, and I followed so people could get by. “But I can’t give her any kind of opening. She’d take it and run a mile.”

Hugging my waist, I studied him. His brows hovered in a slight frown, but his blue gaze remained steady on me. He rested his hands at his belt, legs slightly spread, head tilted in my direction, attention solely focused on me.

But I could feel her gaze on us, even with half a block between. That worth every penny remark had been for Jase, a blatant attempt to spark jealousy. It hadn’t worked, and she knew it.

And the way she’d looked at him? That had been the only real thing about her. Her expression had been that of a woman looking at the man she still loved with another woman. Seeing him hurt her, deeply, and seeing him with me hurt worse.

I could empathize with that pain – looking at what you wanted and couldn’t have was awful and the story of my entire childhood – but I also knew when you had something valuable, you treated it as such.

She’d treated him like he was expendable, and he’d walked away. She’d thrown them away, and there was no girl code that said I couldn’t treat him exactly the way he deserved.

He was a good man and he deserved the best. I meant to be that for him.

I dropped my arms and smiled up at him, so bright his brows lifted in surprise. “So I didn’t get a seasonal cocktail at the Farmer’s Daughter, but the Tea Room is down here and they have hot spiced cider. Let’s go try that.”

Gratitude and relief flashed over his face, and he folded an arm about my waist, dipping his head for a swift kiss. “They have great snickerdoodles, too. Come on, sugar dumpling, and let’s get you hooked up.”

Her gaze bored into my back all the way down the block.

I didn’t have to give him directions to the Bartlett place. I frowned as he hooked left off 19 onto the little-known shortcut through the woods. “You know where you’re going.”

“Yep. Attended a couple of their quail hunts with Daddy and Grandaddy. Worked on some of their machinery” He rested his wrist on the wheel, humming along with Johnny Cash on the radio. “Friend of mine got married here, too.”

The sun had dipped below the pine trees and the pecan orchard surrounding the Bartletts’ home, so dusk hovered when he turned into the driveway. Cars already lined the front of the house, and the outdoor string lights lit up the backyard. Nineties country and the scent of hot peanut oil drifted on the air when he came around to open my door.

I hopped down, cataloguing who was here by the vehicles. My hand wrapped in his, I led him around the side of the house to the back where we were engulfed in greetings from Mama Nancy, Marilyn’s parents, her grandfather Coach Bartlett, and Maggie’s parents.

“Hey! I’ve missed you this week.” Maggie threw herself into hugging me. She smiled at Jase, her dimples flashing. “Hi, Jase.”

He grinned. “Hey, Maggie.”

“Oh, this is Noah.” She snagged her new boyfriend’s arm and drew him forward, his face set in what I’d come to learn was his perpetual bored expression. “Noah, this is my friend Tyler and–”

“Yeah, we know each other.” He lifted his beer. “How’s it hanging, Jase?”

“Just fine.” His voice emerged tight and dripped with distaste, although I don’t think Noah was smart enough to catch that. Maggie had turned away to answer her mama, so she missed the interaction.

“Yeah, that’s good.” Noah’s gaze slid from Jase’s face, over my chest, to land on Maggie’s ass. I wrinkled my nose. I’d only met him once or twice, but so far? Not impressed.

“Tyler, make sure you and Jase get something to drink.” Mrs. Bartlett patted my shoulder as she walked by with a platter of her trademark deviled eggs.

“Yes, ma’am.” I smiled at Noah even as I tugged Jase toward the beverage station. “We’ll talk to you later, Noah.”

“Yeah.” He swigged his beer, still eyeing Maggie’s ass . . . in front of her parents. Good Lord.

I grabbed Jase’s biceps as we walked away. “What was that?”

One of his brows winged upward. “What was what?”

“The way you looked at Noah.”

“Bradshaw?” He shrugged, casting a quick glance over his shoulder to where Noah and Maggie were talking. She clung to his arm, laughing up at him while he looked bored as always. “Not one of my favorite people.”

Discomfort shivered down my spine. “Why not?”

“His parents spoiled him, and he’s lazy.” He passed me a spiced ginger ale, my favorite, and fished out a beer, shaking icy water off his wrist. “She could do better.”