The Tryst (Bluegrass Empires #3) Read Online Sawyer Bennett

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Erotic Tags Authors: Series: Bluegrass Empires Series by Sawyer Bennett
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Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 74698 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 373(@200wpm)___ 299(@250wpm)___ 249(@300wpm)
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But Abby being Abby, she rushes over, wrapping me in a tight hug and immediately cries into my chest. I look over the top of her head while I hold her to see Kat staring at me, her arms crossed, her expression stormy. She doesn’t say anything, just glares at me.

I try to ignore it, but eventually, the tension becomes too much. I straighten up, wiping sweat from my brow, and face her. “What’s wrong, Kat?”

She doesn’t hold back. “What’s wrong? What’s wrong is the way you’re ignoring Holland.”

I release Abby who sniffles and wipes her damp cheeks. She takes a wary step back as Kat moves in closer.

I bristle. “I’m ignoring all of you, in case that wasn’t clear.”

“It’s clear,” she sneers. “But Holland is the one you committed to love. She’s the one you worked hard to regain her trust, and the minute she relents… the absolute fucking minute… you betray her again.”

“I’m not betraying her,” I grumble, shoving my hands into my pockets. “I’m trying to process.”

“You’ve had plenty of time to process,” she says with narrowed eyes. “Now it’s time to do something about it.”

“I’m still trying to figure it out,” I say lamely, but truth is, I’m stuck in apathy because nothing seems right.

“You’re blaming yourself for Wade’s death, so you’re going to punish yourself by letting go of the one thing that reminds you of it and ironically, the best thing that’s ever happened to you.”

“You wouldn’t understand,” I retort, my temper rising.

Kat’s eyes flash with anger. “You think I don’t understand guilt? Or loyalty? Or making decisions that put yourself first at what might be the expense of others?”

“Yeah,” I yell at her, causing all heads in the barn to turn our way. “But your decisions didn’t get someone killed.”

“Oh, boo-hoo,” she drawls, and I’m stunned by her utter lack of empathy. “You big baby. You and I both know you didn’t kill Wade. A drunk driver did.”

“Kat,” Abby interjects, but Kat waves her off.

“No, Abby. He needs to hear this,” she says fiercely. She turns back to me, her voice trembling with emotion. “Let’s just say, for argument’s sake, that it is your fault. I’m telling you to get over it. Forgive yourself and live your happily ever after with Holland.”

I shake my head, the words bouncing off my walls of self-loathing. “I can’t.”

Kat throws up her hands in frustration. “Fine. Stick to this ludicrous idea that you have to give up Holland because of some penance for Wade’s death. Be an idiot, but this is where you better listen up well.” She moves in closer to me, poking me in the chest. “You need to man up and let her go. She’s waiting for you to come to your senses, and it’s not fair to her. Let her go so she can be happy.”

Christ, the thought of losing Holland nearly takes my legs out from under me. I know that if I do this, she’s gone forever. There are no third chances.

“Kat,” I start, but she cuts me off again.

“No, Trey. You need to go tell her that it’s over. She deserves that much. If you’re going to wallow in this pitiful self-flagellation, don’t drag her down with you.”

Her words hit me like a punch to the gut and I’m robbed of air. Abby steps closer, her hand on my arm. “Trey, we love you. We want you to be happy. But you need to make a decision. Either fight for Holland or let her go.”

I look between my sisters, weighing their words. The truth is, I don’t want to let Holland go. But the thought of facing her, of trying to reconcile my love for her versus the guilt I’m carrying, terrifies me. It feels impossible. I’m being pulled in two different directions, and I don’t know which way to turn.

“I need to think,” I mutter, turning away from them. I hear Kat sigh, and Abby squeezes my arm before letting go. I walk back to the hay bales, lifting another one and throwing it onto the stack, trying to drown out the noise in my head with the rhythm of work.

The physical exertion helps, but only a little. Grief and guilt press down on me and I can’t shake the sensation that I’m drowning. I know Kat is right. I can’t keep Holland in limbo, waiting for me to come to my senses. The guilt oppressing me is twofold—guilt for Wade and guilt for Holland. I need to make a decision, one way or the other.

The workday drags on, each minute feeling like an hour. By the time we finish, my muscles ache and I’m drenched in sweat. I want to go home, take a hot shower and crawl into bed.

But Kat’s words keep echoing in my head. If I can’t make a decision, it’s not fair to keep Holland waiting, to keep stringing her along while I sort out my feelings. I need to talk to her, to tell her how I feel, even if it means letting her go.


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