72. Dusty

This is why I don’t come in here.

These rich fucks think they own the whole damn county.

I guess, technically, they do.

It’s always boggled my mind that arrogant pricks like these guys managed to produce sons that are down to earth and generous. My friends are nothing like their fathers.

Thank God.

The second I spotted Jerry and Chad, I wanted to turn around. But now that we’re here, I’ve got my damned pride. And I don’t want Marnie feeling like she doesn’t belong, because she does. She can go wherever she wants in this world, and I’ll clear the path for her.

Marnie doesn’t like beef. But if she thinks I’m going to let them serve her chicken tenders, she’s dead wrong.

I order the surf and turf, the most expensive thing on the menu, a fuck you to all the snobs in here who don’t think I’m worth a damn.

I might come from a crooked tree, but Marnie is a Novak. She is up to their standards and deserves everything they have and more.

She sits across from me sipping wine with those plump, soft lips.

My head is a mess. I want to fuck her, and hold her, and beg her to stay. I want to serve her lobster, but I also want to throw the table over and rage at the system.

Looking around, I find myself trying to guess which table she and Jerry sat at.

I can’t pretend I didn’t feel a stab of betrayal at hearing they met here together. But that land is hers. It belongs to her family. To the ancestors who marched the path of time to preserve their legacy. What she does with it is her business and her business alone.

But anybody but Jerry.

It’s a silent plea.

She doesn’t have to choose me, but choosing that man would be a blow that would leave a mark.

Her foot finds my leg. She trails her cute little toes up my calf. “You know what would be funny?”

I could use a good joke. “What’s that?”

“If we bought this place. And barred certain assholes from coming in.”

I give her a crooked grin. “Assholes like me?”

“You’d be the asshole in charge. You can stand at the door and throw anybody out that you don’t like.”

I nod, reaching down to snag her foot. My fingers follow the straps around her ankle. “I like the sound of this. Where would we get the money to buy The Go Around?”

“I’d sell the farm.”

I laugh. “That’s a hell of a price to pay for a fuck you.”

She smiles mysteriously. “Would be worth it.”

Her smile falters, and she looks at me with those big, light brown eyes. “I wasn’t meeting with him about the farm.”

“Who?”

I’m playing dumb to make it look like I’m not concerned. But I care. I care too much.

“Jerry.”

She murmurs. “I didn’t meet him here to talk about that. It was to ask him about those love notes I found.”

“What love notes?”

She bites her lip. “JL’s love notes.”

“JL… Jerry Lind?”

She nods, slumping back in her chair. “Remember that test result I showed you?”

The pregnancy test. “Yes.”

She nods her chin towards Jerry. He’s laughing loudly at something Chad said. “I can’t say for sure it was him. But based on the evidence I do have…”

I sigh. “Well, shit.”

She nods. “Yeah. Shit indeed.”

The knowledge slots into place. I can’t say I’m relieved, because my heart is hurting for Marnie. But I can now say with confidence Marnie Novak will never sell, rent, or say boo to Jerry Lind.

“You want to get out of here?”

I ask, squeezing the arch of her foot.

Her lips curve up. “Yes. But first, cake.”

I laugh. “They do have a legendary red velvet.”

“So I’ve heard.”

She wiggles her foot in my hand. “And you know us bakers. We need to know who our competition is.”