Chapter 10: Another Rainy Night

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Rip emerged from his bedroom, wearing flannel red pajama bottoms and a dark grey t-shirt. He said nothing as he padded over to the counter and refilled his mug with the cooling coffee. He then made his way over to the loveseat, where Ginni perched herself under the Afghan, keeping herself toasty. The torrential rain continued to beat against the tin roof, presenting a consistent, rhythmic sound that was almost soothing. Rip sat himself beside Gin tugged the corner of the blanket and pulled it over his socked feet.

"You never did answer my question," Rip stated while he dipped his face to sip on his coffee. Genevieve knew this was coming, she evaded the question when they were in the process of seeking shelter from the storm.

Clearing her throat, "What do you want to know?" Picking at the loose piece of cuticle that was hanging on her thumb, avoiding to make eye contact.

Rip blinked at her, "The truth, Gin. What else?"

"The truth?"

Gin touched the tip of her finger to her lips, forming the right words to explain to the foreman, exactly what she has been doing with her life, since he and Lloyd came to Utah to take care of Nicholas, long before she came home to Montana.

"Yes Genevieve, of all people in the entire world. It had to be Travis." Rip narrowed his eyes towards the raven-haired Dutton, conveying his annoyance towards her. He had very little patience, and she loved to dance on every last nerve.

Choosing her words wisely Ginni sighed, "Well as you know, I'm dancin' at the Foxhole." She sighed, "Well... After you came to Salt Lake and my stitches healed, I started dancing down there at one of the local clubs... Well..."

This part was going to be hard. Sighed deeply, preparing herself for the explosion that was about to erupt. "After you all came to Salt Lake and my stitches healed, I started dancing down in the city. Well... One of the girls tha--"

"Gin, what does this have to do with Travis?" Rip interrupted, then casually took a sip of his coffee.

Ginni scoffed, "Let me get to it. This is going to be a lot to handle." Probably. " So let me explain at my own pace." The Dutton warned, glaring her crystal water eyes towards the foreman.

"Okay, go on."

"So... One of the girls I worked with at the club, had a side hustle that..." She paused, taking in a deep breath, "serviced men's needs."

Rip cocked his left eyebrow, his face contorting with mild confusion, "Serviced men's needs...?"

"Yes! For fuck's sake Rip! Now, Travis was in town and we made arrangements." Ginni averted her eyes from the wrangler while taking an audible sip from her coffee. Silently Rip's dark eyes bored into her soul while her story mulled around in his head, processing each syllable she stated. She couldn't be telling him that she was a prostitute. That a friend of her father's, as well as his own pal, paid the youngest Dutton girl for sex.

"Travis paid you for sex?" He confirmed, shoved the blanket from his lap, and stood up to walk over to the shelf. He reached up to the top shelf and pulled a three-quarters full bottle of Tullamore dew from an array of bottles. The lid and the neck of the bottle had a faint coat of dust caking the glass. The cowboy twisted off the cap from the bottle, took a swig, then proceeded to fill the empty space in the coffee mug with the liquor.

"Rip, do I have to spell it out for you?"

The Dutton girl rolled her eyes, she hoped that Rip got the picture and not have to describe how she serviced one of his acquaintances. This was not really the conversation she wanted to have, especially with her father's right-hand man. "But, you do have to promise me one thing..." She tore into him with piercing blues eyes. "You cannot and will not say a damn thing... to anyone." She pleaded, fire coating her words as she said them slow and low enough to get her point across. "Beth is the only person that knows about my past, and I would like to keep it that way."

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