“You want to quit?” Jackson asks, his voice hard.
I shake my head. “No. At least not yet. But if Caden takes over the operations part of my responsibilities, it will free me up to figure out what I might want to do with my life.”
Jackson raises a brow. “What you’re saying is that you want us to free you up so you can figure out how to leave us?”
“No!” I shake my head. “I don’t know. Maybe.” I blow out an exasperated breath. “I want the space to figure out what I want. You both know your path and feel passion in your work. Is it so hard to understand that I want the same?”
They fall silent, both getting the same hard set to their jaws, and it makes them look like the brothers they are. It highlights how they’re alike instead of all the ways they are different.
“It’s not.” Wyatt finally breaks the tension between us. “You deserve that, Cat.”
“Thank you. And you’re not losing me. I live here, and I still have to work for a living. I just want less on my plate so I can figure out what makes me happy.”
“I don’t like it,” Jackson says in that surly way he has. “But I understand, and Wyatt’s right. You deserve to do something that makes you happy, even if it’s not working for us.”
“Thank you.” I smile a little. “You do realize you’ve proven my point by saying workingfor us. Remember, I own as much of this land as you do.”
“Good going, dickhead,” Wyatt says.
Jackson shakes his head. “You know what I meant.”
I laugh. “I do.”
Wyatt says, “So what’s next?”
“Next we talk to Caden and see if he’s okay with it.”
Wyatt nods. “Do you want the honors, since he’s your boyfriend?”
I wrinkle my nose. “He’s not my boyfriend. Don’t be silly.”
“Then what is he?” Jackson asks, his expression speculative.
“I don’t like labels.” I square my shoulders. “But I’ll talk to him first.”
I’ve done it—cut the first tie. Now I can only hope I know what I’m doing, and that I’m not making a mistake putting our family business, and my faith, in Caden’s hands.
21
Caden
I’m looking over the schedule when Cat knocks softly on my office door. When I see her standing there in a pair of tight, faded jeans and a plain, black T-shirt, something happens to me I’m not sure I like.
I feel…trust.
Trust in her.
Trust in the future.
Trust in us.
It makes me nervous, that surety, but there it sits, right in front of me, making it hard to deny.
I smile. “Hey there, honey. How’s your day?”
Such a simple, domestic question. I like the way it feels on my tongue.
“Not too bad.” She tilts her chin toward the chair opposite the desk. “You got a minute?”