Page 99 of Over the Line

Jeb narrowed his eyes. “Have you finished every drop in the house?”

Dismissively, Michael waved his hand. “No.” But it was close. Closer than it should be.

The damn truth was, he’d spent the last twelve nights morosely watching the sun go down, glass in hand.

“Don’t mind if I do.” Jeb crossed to a small cabinet and pulled out the decanter. Without saying a word, he made a show of holding the contents up to the light and noting the small amount of liquor inside.

After pouring two fingers’ worth into a crystal glass, Jeb returned to his seat. Then, rather than taking a sip, he held the beverage and regarded Michael.

“You’re wasting your time, Jeb.”

“An apology is always a good place to start.”

For what? Confronting the truth that neither of them had wanted to accept? “No chance in hell I’m calling her. I’m the last person she wants to hear from.”

For long moments, the office rang with a silence so loud that his ears burned.

A few seconds later, Jeb quietly spoke, and the impact rocked Michael back in his boots. “Are you in love with her?”

“Hell no.” Michael slammed his hand down. “Never doing that again.”

Contemplatively, Jeb took a drink.

Wouldn’t matter, either way. Sydney had no interest in anything other than an occasional scene or fucking.

Michael needed to shove aside thoughts of her.

After all, he was no longer a man given to bouts of obsession. Instead, he accepted reality and got on with his responsibilities.

Ranching could be brutal. A lot of winters, he lost cattle to the weather. And spring birthing came with its own risks.

He’d grieved for both of his parents, and acknowledged the fact that his sister and her children didn’t want anything to do with the land he loved. And he’d survived it all. He’d get past his bruised ego soon enough. “Better I find out now that she’s not interested in being up here.”

“Hmm.”

“What the hell does that mean?” Michael snapped, annoyed.

“I’ve watched her. Smiling as she galloped on horseback, laughing as you rode the UTV together.”

Before Michael could respond, Jeb continued, “Watching the sunrise with a cup of coffee. Making smores over an open fire. Taking care of Melanie’s flowerbeds.” He lifted a shoulder. “She helped me give the pest a bath.”

“She didn’t.”

“Yeah. And brought in eggs for you a couple of times.”

Why the hell hadn’t he known about some of those things?

“There were times you were unavailable, and she was at loose ends. She wandered around, asked questions, made herself useful. She wasn’t on her phone or bitching about how quiet it is out here.”

Unlike Jane. “Don’t you have work to do?”

“Nah.”

Michael had been afraid of that answer.

His whole life, Jeb had been a second father when his own had been too busy with family and obligations. Jeb had never treated Michael like a pesky kid. In fact, until today, the man had seemed to have endless patience.

“Jesus.” Michael fed his hand into his hair. How could he admit this? “She’s not interested in a relationship.”