“I think it’s time for us to go to bed.”

And for once, he didn’t argue with her.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

IT WAS EARLY. It was cold. And it was fence repairing time.

All things that, in many ways, Eli found enjoyable. All right, so fence repair wasn’t the most fun thing he could think of to do on a Saturday, but it was quiet work. And he and Connor had thermoses of coffee set on the fence posts, their breath putting out bursts of condensation in the cold air, and there was something about it that was familiar. Constant.

Of course, his brain was back in bed with Sadie. He’d gone to her place every night that week. He hadn’t slept there any of the nights, but last night he’d stayed until the sky had started to lighten, slept for an hour, and now, here he was out in the field.

It was jarring. To go from this sort of out-of-reality experience with Sadie, in her arms, in her bed. He had the kind of sex with her he’d barely even fantasized about. Because he hadn’t thought it was real. Or even a possibility.

What they had was hot, on a level he hadn’t known existed. He wasn’t used to sex consuming him like this, but he sure as hell wasn’t arguing.

But yeah, the transition from there, to sleep, to this had him a little off his game.

“Hand me the wire cutters,” Connor said, his voice still rough from sleep.

“Sure,” Eli said, reaching out and taking the cutters from the ground, and placing them in Connor’s outstretched hand.

“You’re quiet this morning,” Connor said.

“And you appear to have woken up with an estrogen surge.”

“What the hell?” Connor asked.

“Seriously, what was that? ‘You’re quiet this morning.’” Eli knew he was being a jackass, because he was tired, because he’d been up all night having sex. Which he felt kind of smug about, but also which he didn’t want his brother to know about. “Only women say crap like that.”

“You seem to have woken up on the asshole side of the bed this morning and stepped in a pile of sexist on your way out to the barn,” Connor said.

“You make a similar trek every morning. Why should it bother you if I’m trying to speak your language?”

“Because you don’t normally. You are normally very well-adjusted, which actually kind of pisses me off, because you’re my younger brother and your shit is way more together than mine. In fact, no matter what’s going on, it all seems together for you. Which makes me very suspicious of why you’re acting this way.” Connor straightened and tugged off his glove, leaning against the wooden fence post and picking up his thermos, unscrewing the cap. “Yeah, very suspicious.” He poured himself a cup, black, no sugar. “Either you’re still mad because you want to screw Sadie, or...oh, no,” he said, a smile curving his lips. Eli groaned internally. “No, that’s not it. You said you weren’t going to sleep with her, so even if you were in full monk vow of celibacy mode you wouldn’t be grumpy like this. You did sleep with her. And you’re mad because you broke your little vow.”

Wrong. He was not mad about sleeping with Sadie. He loved every minute of it. He was, however, more than a little pissed that his brother had guessed so close to the truth.

“Shut up, Connor,” he said, reaching for his own thermos and pouring himself a cup, with cream and sugar.

“You did. You slept with her.”

“I am sleeping with her,” he corrected, his tone hard. He hadn’t intended to admit it, because it just wasn’t Connor’s damn business. It felt like something that was just for him and Sadie. And it felt wrong to talk about it. Like it violated what they had. Like it violated her.

“Well,” Connor said, pushing his hat back on his forehead. “I did not expect that.”

“What?”

“To be right, for you to admit it if I was, and for it to have happened more than once.”

“I can’t even count how many times it’s happened.” And there he was putting male ego over decency, which he rarely did, but he was only human.

Connor shook his head and took another sip of his coffee. “For a second, I was jealous of you,” he said.

“Only for a second?” Eli asked.

“Yeah, then I remembered how much I don’t want to screw with any of that stuff ever again.”

Eli let out a long, slow breath. He didn’t want to have this conversation with Connor, but they were apparently having it. “You’re never going to sleep with anyone again?” he asked.

“Not planning on it.” He took another sip of coffee.

“That’s not... You’re thirty-four years old, Connor. That’s not healthy.”

“You don’t still believe in blue balls, do you?” Connor asked.

“No. Look, I just...” He swallowed. “I don’t like to tell you how to deal with this. To deal with Jessie, and the loss of her, because who am I? I’ve never loved a woman, Connor. I don’t plan on ever marrying one. It’s just not in the cards for me. But you have to move on.”

Connor shook his head, his jaw tight. “No, Eli, I don’t. I don’t have to move on. I don’t have to do anything I don’t want to do.”

“So you’re going to be like this forever?”

“Maybe. I run my ranch. I get the work done. What the hell else do I need to do?”

“Be okay?” Eli asked.

Connor laughed. “I’m not okay,” he said. “Why should I bother acting like I am?”

Eli looked down. “It’s been three years,” he said, his tone soft.

“And it was supposed to be a lifetime.” Connor put the lid back on his thermos. “When is the appropriate time to get over the loss of your whole life? Answer that question, Deputy.”

“I can’t,” Eli said.

“Yeah, I didn’t think so. You don’t want to get married.”

“Give me one reason why I should,” Eli said, leaning forward on the fence, propping his boot up on the bottom slat. “Love comes here to die.” It seemed a weird thing to say, with the pine trees in the distance tipped in gold from the sun, and the breeze coming in from the sea, mixing with the scent of earth, trees and livestock. With all these things that made the ranch look like heaven, it was hard to see it for what it was.

But the simple fact was, no one in his family had ever managed to hold on to love. The house, the Catalog House that he was starting to think of as Sadie’s, was the original monument to that. A gift for a woman who wouldn’t stay.

And on it had gone, all the way to Connor.

No, Eli had no plans to get married. He’d never seen a good reason to want love, and he’d seen plenty of reasons to avoid it.

“Yeah,” Connor said. “Sometimes it feels that way. But my point is, you already don’t want marriage. With the way things were for Dad after Mom left...I did, and look where it got me? Don’t you think I have enough of a reason to not want to get married again?”

“Sure, but not to never have sex again.”

“Let me worry about that.”