Bitter Truth (Hawthorne Vines #1)

I give him a look that says I call bullshit. “And that made you … not want anything to move further?” Confusion lingers heavy in my voice and heart. “Because that makes absolutely zero sense to me.”

He’s quiet for a while, but I get the feeling he’s trying to sort something in his mind. Wes seems similar to Micah in that way, like he wants to fully think something through before he says or does it.

“The only thing I can tell you, Murphy, is that I really need this job.”

Something inside my mind clicks, and my shoulders ease. But I prod him a bit more, just to make sure I’m understanding him correctly.

“You’re pushing me away because you’re worried about Memphis?”

“You can probably get away with doing whatever—or whoever—you want,” Wes replies, and I can’t help the small smile that blooms at what he says. “But I’m disposable. I’m not family. I’m not a close friend or someone who has been working for your family for years. And I can’t …”

He trails off, his voice growing tight.

“I can’t take that kind of risk, Murphy. I’m sorry.”

I stare out the window as we pull up to the massive barn at the end of the lane. Wes brings the truck to a halt and turns off the engine.

“So if we weren’t a boss and employee, and if you weren’t working for my brother …”

I glance down when I feel something touch my pinkie where my hands are slightly tucked under my thighs. Wes’s hand is right there on the seat, his own finger pressed lightly against mine.

It’s a repeat of how I touched him in the kitchen, and it blends this moment with that one.

“It took everything inside me to stop,” he whispers.

His eyes seem to search mine. It sends a surge of need racing through me, and my heart picks up speed.

I’m not sure whether knowing his true thoughts and feelings makes everything better or worse. It feels good to know I wasn’t being rejected. But it also feels like the absolute worst torture to know we both want something to happen that won’t because circumstances are in the way.

I want so desperately to lean in and kiss him. To taste his lips and give us both what we’ve been craving since that night we first met.

My face must give away the fact I have a lot going on inside my head, because Wes’s gaze is just as hungry. He opens his mouth like he wants to say something else. But a tap on the truck jerks us both out of the moment.

Keith Trager is standing by the front bumper, grinning at us. I wave hello, a tight smile on my face, and he waves in return.

Then I take a deep breath and let it out.

“Let’s get to work,” I tell Wes.

He nods, and we push our doors open and hop out of the truck.

“Well, look at you, Miss Murphy!” Keith says, his smile growing as I round the front to give him a hug. “I didn’t know you were home.”

“Just got back to town,” I reply. “Gonna be helping with the new restaurant.”

“That’s just great. I bet your pops is really glad to have you around, helping out.”

I smile, but don’t address what he said. If only he knew how my dad has been ignoring me since I’ve gotten back.

“How’s Quinn doing?” I ask.

At the mention of his daughter, Keith beams at me. “Ah, she’s doing great. She’s pregnant, you know. Seven months.”

“I saw something about that online. Congratulations.” I’m tugging some hair that has blown into my face back behind my ear when a thought occurs to me. “Hey, does she still have the same number?”

He nods. “Sure does.”

I grin. “I’ve been thinking I might give her a call.”