“You? You had him put me in jail?”

Even though her eyes had narrowed and she was still speaking in that low tone that scared the bejesus out of everyone who knew her, he wouldn’t show fear and he wouldn’t back down. “I did.”

“Why?”

“It’s his daughter you’re jealous of and his daughter you brought the shotgun outta hock for. You’re out of control.”

She sneered. “You don’t know the meanin’ of out of control, but you just wait. When I get outta here, I’m gonna—”

God, she was full of piss and vinegar and there wasn’t a woman on the planet who could hold a candle to her. He was so whipped. “No. This will be resolved while you’re in there. I’m done walkin’ on eggshells with you whenever another woman is in the same three feet of space I am. We’re gonna settle this here and now.”

“There’s nothin’ to settle.”

“The hell there ain’t.”

She clucked her tongue and looked away. It was a few seconds before she spoke again. “I get it. You just don’t want me anymore.”

“What are you talkin’ about?” The woman was out of her ever-lovin’ mind.

She turned her head back toward him briefly and that’s when he spotted the fear and vulnerability in her pretty eyes. Bethann was never vulnerable, never scared of anything or anyone. She’d take on the devil himself without blinking an eye, but something had her spoiling for a fight, something had her scared.

“You don’t want me anymore, Tommy. I see it. You work all the time or go out with the boys. You look at the sheriff’s daughter like she’s dinner and you’re a starvin’ man, even though she’s more ‘an ten years younger than you.”

He was dumbfounded. “I don’t know where in the Sam Hill you got the idea I don’t want you. I love you, Bethann. Always have. I don’t get why you seem to doubt me now.”

“Then why are you never around?”

The crazy gene, the one Southerners talk about having in their families must have skipped a few generations and caught up with Bethann. He just couldn’t wrap his head around why she was acting so damn foolheaded. “I’m not gone anymore this week than I’ve been gone any other week. Damn, woman. I play poker once a week. I bowl once a week. And I play ball on the weekends. I’ve always done that. You know I’ve always done that. So don’t be givin’ me shit about not bein’ home.” He took a deep breath. “As for the way I look at whatshername? If you were to see the way I look at you when you walk away from me, you wouldn’t question anything. You’re it for me.”

She swallowed hard, then her eyes welled with tears. “Then why won’t you marry me.”

He had to mentally take another step back and think before he spoke. “Marry? Who said anythin’ about marry?”

“Exactly. You won’t marry me. Why not?”

He tried to keep a straight face and not give her any hint of how lost he was in their conversation. “We’ve never even discussed marriage.”

Bethann stomped her foot in apparent frustration. “I know we haven’t. I want to know why?”

“Hell, woman, I don’t know why. We live together, sleep together. We do all the things married people do. I guess I figured we were happy this way.”

“Tommy Martin, you know darn good and well I’ve always wanted to have a life with you complete with kids and the white picket fence. Well, I got the fence, but no kids, no wedding ring. Why don’t you want to marry me?”

~lissa

Living in North Carolina, talented, multi-published author, Lissa Matthews, has many loves in her life: Family, friends, NASCAR, football, music of all kinds, cooking, BDSM, and last, but not least, coffee. She loves it so much, in fact, she and those who know her are surprised she hasn’t floated away on a caffeine-induced cloud while giving life to feisty heroines and hunky heroes.

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