He pulled the truck along the side of the main house and got out, brushing off dust and animal hair that clung to his worn jeans. He’d changed out of the boots that he’d been working in and slid into another pair so he wouldn’t track cow shit into the Bellinis’ house. He walked up the wide wood stairs and onto the oversized porch. He knew he didn’t have to knock. He’d known this family for as long as he could remember. He’d played out back with the Bellini girls when they were all kids.
He walked through the front door and followed the sound of Johnny Bellini’s booming voice, some of it in English and some in Italian.
“Dad, you’re not going to kill him,” Honor said.
“Bastardo. He disgraced my daughter. That is just not done.”
Erin rolled her eyes. “I am hardly disgraced. Pissed? Yes. Disgraced, no. And second? By the time I’m done talking to everyone about what he did to me, it’ll be his reputation that’s ruined.”
“Hey,” Jason said, stepping into the room. “I was on the phone with Erin and I heard. I came right over to make sure you were okay.”
His gaze shot to Erin, who looked as upset as he’d ever seen her. Erin was never flustered, never upset, never out of sorts. She was the one sister who always had her shit together.
Today she definitely didn’t have it together. Her dark raven hair was piled high in a crown on top of her head and the pencil she’d stuck into it threatened to topple the entire shebang. Her normally sharp green eyes were clouded, as if she was on the verge of tears.
Jason wasn’t sure he’d ever seen Erin Bellini cry. Not even when he’d pushed her off the slide when they were eight years old. She’d just gotten up, brushed herself off, then calmly walked over and punched him right in the jaw.
He figured that’s when he’d first fallen in love with her.
Now she just looked sad. But damn, she still looked beautiful, and he had no right to think that.
“I’m not okay, Jason.” She walked over to him and leaned against him.
He put his arm around her and held her close. “I’m sorry, Erin.”
He’d do anything he could to take this pain away from her, including kicking the shit out of his best friend.
“Have you heard from him?” she asked.
“No. I tried calling him on my way over and his phone went right to voice mail each time.”
“Damn. Has he said anything to you?”
“About calling off the wedding? No. You know I’d have talked him out of it. What was he thinking?”
She tried to smooth her hair into place, then walked back into the living room. “I don’t know. I wish I could talk to him.”
“No. You will not ever speak to him again,” Johnny said. “I, however, have a lot to say to him.”
“Johnny, calm down,” Maureen said.
“What about his parents?” Honor asked. “Has anyone called them? Aren’t they supposed to drive in tomorrow from Dallas?”
“They are,” Erin said. “I hadn’t even thought about calling them.”
Jason pulled out his phone. “Let me do that. I’ll just step outside.”
The phone call with Owen’s dad was short, but just about as much of a punch to the gut as hearing Erin scream. When he hung up, he saw Erin standing just outside the front door.
“They know?”
He nodded. “But not for long. They just got off the phone with him about an hour ago. They’re in shock, Erin. They didn’t know anything before now, either.”
She walked forward and took a seat on the front step, cradling her arms around her knees. She lifted her gaze to his. “Did he tell them anything about why?”
He took a seat next to her. “Just that he changed his mind, he knew what he was doing was wrong and would make a lot of people unhappy, especially you, and that he flew to Aruba because he needed some distance.”
She sighed, and Jason felt the weight of her sigh as if he carried it himself. “I don’t understand any of this. Why didn’t he just talk to me?”
“I don’t know. Why didn’t he talk to me? I’m his best friend. If he had second thoughts, you’d think he’d want to sound them out with someone. It seems to me like he didn’t talk to anyone. Not you, not me, not his parents. So I don’t get it, either.”
“Yeah, none of this makes sense to me, Jason. Owen