Arrogant Bastard - Jennifer Dawson Page 0,14

my undivided attention.”

Her shoulders stiffen, but she opens a system icon and starts to talk.

All my unanswered questions about her will have to go unanswered. Which seems fair, considering.

Both of us will have to stay unsatisfied.

4

Cat

Wednesday night has finally come, and I’m at Gabe’s house, biding my time before I ask my questions about our new farm manager. I lean my head against Gabe’s couch and shift my attention away from the credits playing after the last episode of The Crown and over to my friend. I’m full from dinner, relaxed with red wine, and ready to start digging into the mystery of Caden.

In the last couple of days, he’s managed to make a friend of everyone. But while there’s no question he’s saving my ass from complete disaster, I don’t trust him. It’s like my hair stands on end whenever he gets close, and I can’t help wanting to know what he’s hiding. I should let it go, of course. Because I did run that background check, and he’s clean of a criminal record.

So that’s one worry off the list, but I want to know more. The desire to understand him has burrowed under my skin like an itch I can’t scratch.

Of course, I’m self-aware enough to understand the urge is partially because of my stupid attraction to the man, but that doesn’t change me being justified in my desire to make sure his past doesn’t hurt our future.

At least, that’s the reason I’m selling myself on today.

I’ve Googled him, but he’s a ghost. Which leaves Gabe as the only link.

I just have to make sure I’m casual, since Gabe knows me far too well.

He’s sitting on the couch next to me, his long legs stretched out, his feet propped on the coffee table. He’s tall and handsome, with auburn hair and deep, rich brown eyes. Sometimes I wish we were attracted to each other—it would make life so much easier—but it’s not to be. I look at him and feel nothing but comfort.

Apparently, attraction to the guy who’s my good friend would be too easy for the likes of me. Nope, I have to go and want a man I don’t like and have no future with.

I guess I’m no different than my mom that way. My dad was a mean son of a bitch my mom never got over. Even though his brother, my uncle Beau, loved her, took care of us, and would’ve done anything for her, her heart belonged to the man who didn’t deserve her.

I bite my lip. I suppose it’s not entirely the same. Gabe doesn’t love me any more than I love him.

He cocks a brow. “What’s going on? I can practically feel you thinking over there.”

I shake my head. “Nothing, just work stuff.”

I have to be careful how I broach the subject of Caden. I can’t tip my hand, even with someone I trust, like Gabe, because this is a small town and the second you spill secrets, they’re out in the air, ready to be snatched up and spread.

I learned that lesson way back in middle school when I told Sally Jacobs I got my period and by the end of the week, everyone in the whole school knew about it.

“How’s Caden working out?” Gabe takes a sip from his beer bottle and rests it back on his flat abdomen.

Excellent. He’s brought him up for me. Now I feign nonchalance. I wave my hand over the living room. “Considering I’ve bought you dinner and wine for saving the day, he’s working out pretty well.”

“Good.” He pats my ankle, which is dangling off the edge of the couch. “I’d never have sent him your way if I didn’t think he’d be able to do the job.”

I clear my throat. “So far he seems more than capable of doing the job, and he’s won over both Wyatt and Jackson.”

He nods. “What about you? Has he won you over?”

It’s so nice of him to drop such an opening right into my lap. See? This is why we’re friends. “He appears to know what he’s talking about, but we’ll see. It’s not like he’s produced anything yet.”

“You have doubts?” His gaze narrows.

I give a little shrug.

“Sure, I have your best interests at heart, but it’s selfish too. The more you guys succeed, the better it is for everyone in town,” he says.

“I know.” I bite my tongue to keep from rushing in and asking a million questions, all the while contemplating the irony that

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