West of Forever (Heartstone Ranch #1)(15)

I step in quickly. “You don’t have to help. I can manage it.”

“I’m here to help. Why would I not fulfill my obligations?”

“Maybe because you’re a Stone.”

I hate the words as soon as they’re out of my mouth. I don’t think that way. Sure, my brothers and father do, but Tristan helped me. He had my truck towed, when he definitely didn’t have to do that. He’s a good father, and Emmy Jo loved him, which considering I loved her, must mean something.

“Yes, well, us Stones keep our word,” he clips the words back.

Yeah, I really wish I didn’t say that.

“That’s great, but I’m able to do it without your help,” I say, standing my ground.

I do not want Tristan around. It’s so much better if I’m not forced to be with him. All of this…tension isn’t good for either of us. We need space. A lot of it.

I glance at my best friend, needing her to put her foot down, hopefully in a way that kicks him out the door.

Instead of doing what I silently beg of her, she grins. “You know what, since you guys are both here now, it would be a huge help if you could assemble the containers that the food will go in.”

I’m going to kill her.

Tristan smiles as if he doesn’t have a care in the world. “Sounds great. Show me the way.”

Now I have two choices: I can follow him, pretending this isn’t the worst idea in the world, or bail out and look stupid.

There’s not a chance in hell I’m picking the second so…follow it is.

“Lead the way,” I say with a cheerful smile.

Suzanne takes us into the back, showing us where the boxes and tape are, and where the assembly line will start. Four more people are coming in about an hour. “Since the store is still open, I need to be out there, but since you’re both mature adults, I’m sure you can manage.”

She’s officially dead to me.

“Right,” I say through my teeth.

Tristan turns his head to me. “No problem on my account.”

Ugh. Stupid man.

After a short laugh through her nose, she heads out, leaving the two of us alone.

Yeah, this is going to be just great.

By some divine luck, we spend the first ten minutes in complete silence. The only sounds in the room are cardboard moving, the slide of the tape dispenser, and then the tear of the tape.

All of it fills the very uncomfortable space in the room.

I glance over at him, trying to seem circumspect, but of course he catches me.

“What?” he asks.

“What?”

“I asked you first.”

I huff. “I didn’t say anything, so I don’t know what you’re asking me a question for.”

He grins and then grabs for the box across my body. “You were staring.”

I was, but there’s not a chance in hell I’m going to admit that. “No, I glanced over and you happened to do it at the same time.”

Tristan raises one brow. “That’s not how I saw it.”

“Then maybe you were the one who was staring,” I counter.

Seriously, how does he know I was looking if he wasn’t the one looking at me?

“Nope. I wasn’t.”

“Well, gee, now that you say it like that, I just happen to believe you.”

His smile makes my chest ache just a little. Ugh. Why does this man affect me so much? He really needs to stop. I shouldn’t care about his chiseled jaw, his scruffy face, or the way his brown eyes make my legs weak. All of that should be irrelevant, and I don’t know how to make it so.

Instead, I think about him. I verbally spar with him. I text him, because I’m dumb. And now I’m breaking up with my boyfriend thanks to one stupid sentence that I can’t get out of my head.

Well, that’s not completely true. It’s a lot more than just that, but still, he planted the stupid seed.

I let it grow.

Tristan laughs. “Listen, you’re the one who can’t help but look at me. I get it. I’m a good-looking guy—at least I’ve been told that.”

I scoff. “They lied to you.”

He shrugs. “That may be, but again, you were staring with that dreamy look.”

My lips part, and I suck in a breath. “You! You are so full of it. If I was looking, which I wasn’t, it was to make sure you haven’t grown horns yet. Since you are evil.”

His grin does not make me feel gooey inside. Not at all. Not even a sliver of goo. I’m all solid.

Lies.

“Whatever you say, Gatlin.”

I glare at him. “I say you should shut up and do your job.”

He laughs. “See, I’ve still been making boxes while you’ve just been there slobbering over my good looks.”

I hate him.

It’s official. Whatever stupid feelings of desire I had floating around are gone. I don’t have a single inkling of it.

I point the tape dispenser at him. “It’s a good thing I liked your wife or I’d…”

“You’d?”

I groan at my stupid mouth and the need to get the last word. “I’d tape you to the chair and then tape your mouth closed!”

“I might like that,” he says, his voice low and gravelly.