Chapter 24
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Ruby
Tenor: Can we talk?
Nope. I put my phone facedown and tried to concentrate on my computer screen. My office was on the second story and overlooked the wide, treed lot around the distillery. This location didn’t have the character of the original distillery in Copper Summit. More trucks entered and pulled out of the lot, the barrelhouse looked like a standard warehouse and not a work of rustic art, but it was still pretty and peaceful.
I’d spent the last two weeks working in my office at Bozeman, on alert for any Bailey that wandered by. Since I had put in my notice at the tasting room and no longer picked up bar shifts, I hadn’t had to worry as much.
I had foolishly thought that my heartbreak would heal faster if I wasn’t going to Bourbon Canyon all the time.
I added a filter to an image of Teller’s boots with a glass of bourbon superimposed over them. That sucked.
I tried another one. Both images faded with the glass looking overexposed. Ish.
Punching the keyboard, I tried several more. Ugh. None of them looked good.
What about another image?
Picture after picture scrolled by. The horizon beyond the pines around the Bourbon Canyon location. The sky with clouds and mountains in the distance. Almost looked like the outline of the peaks in Copper Summit’s logo.
The picture I had taken of Tenor behind the bar the night he’d agreed to be my fake boyfriend flashed on the screen. His strong arms were braced on the countertop, his hips were kicked back, and his expression...
He looked at the camera with that tight jaw of his, smoldering emotion in his eyes. A heat reserved only for the person taking the picture.
Me.
He’d looked at me like that and he’d still ended things? I asked myself that every time I pulled up this image to refresh my heartbreak.
Now he wanted to talk. Had he seen the parts of the book I’d highlighted?
What had he thought?
I had gone to work last week, and the first damn thing I had done was look in the cupboard for a book. There’d been nothing. Twice he’d reached out. Twice I’d shunned him. He didn’t like to be strung along either.
My eyes stung. I blinked rapidly. I would not cry.
My mind was made up. I had to live with the consequences.
Didn’t I?
My phone buzzed again and I scrambled for it, my hopes catapulting upward for Tenor’s name on my screen.
Madison: Are you still open to a consult?
Disappointment that it wasn’t a text from Tenor gave way to curiosity. Wasn’t Madison afraid her brother would get upset?
Me: Yes. What are you thinking?
Madison: Meet me Saturday at 4 at Flatlanders.
Me: You sure it won’t be an issue?
I did not want to get on the bad side of a guy who seemed volatile.
Madison: I already talked to Scooter. It’s fine.
Okay, then. Was news of my breakup with Tenor filtering through town? Now I was welcome at Flatlanders?
Didn’t matter. I had plans for a Saturday night again. I’d take it.
Me: See you then.
Clicking away from the photo album, I turned my attention to the marketing campaign Wynter had sent me this morning for the holidays. I tapped out post after post. Tomorrow, I’d proof them and start scheduling.
My gaze continued to dip toward the clock. I could go home, to my quiet apartment, in five minutes. I’d spend my Friday night reading. Again. A psychological thriller—where the boyfriend was the killer. As if that’d change my mind. If Tenor showed up, announced he was a serial killer, and brandished a knife, I’d probably throw myself on it just to be close to him.
Finally, closing time. I shut down my computer and pushed back just as Summer and Wynter appeared at the door.
“Hey, Ruby.” Wynter sounded like she was trying to coax me out from under the car. Like I was nothing but a scared kitten and they weren’t sure if I’d lash out or not.
Both of them entered, shutting the door behind them.
Wynter held her hands up, her expression instantly apologetic. “We’re outside of work hours—you do not have to talk to me—but I wanted to see how you’re doing and make sure this”—she wiggled her finger around the office—“is okay despite everything.”
Part of me had hoped she’d leave the very real breakup alone, pretend like it had never happened, that I’d never dated her brother—for real. The other part had been hurt that she hadn’t brought it up before. Just another sign of how easily I came and went from someone’s life.
Words froze in my throat and I could only nod. “It’s fine,” I managed to croak after bobbing my head like my neck was a spring.
Sympathy filled Summer’s face. She pulled out the chair across from me and perched on the edge, angling toward me. “Can we talk? Here, or we could go somewhere?”
First Tenor wanted to talk, and now his sisters did. Was this some sort of concerted effort?
We could not go to my apartment. I hadn’t cleaned all weekend. My dishwasher mocked the pile of dishes by my sink. I went home, read thrillers about serial killers and stalkers, and cried myself to sleep.
“Here is fine.” I folded my hands across my stomach and grappled for my composure. Staying in an office setting might help keep me from breaking down. “But I don’t know what you want to talk about.”
I knew damn well what they were here for. Their brother, not me. Had I thought a couple of hours of brainstorming new drinks was anything more than a workday? These two were not my friends.
A fissure in my chest cracked wide open.
“He told us who your dad is,” Summer said.
I scowled, my defensiveness rising, bringing a dose of anger with it. “Like I told Tenor, I can’t change any of that. And you know what? I know exactly what Dad is like. He can be insulting. He can be a giant dick. Do I cut him off? For being such an asshole, he’s one of the few men in my life who hasn’t completely kicked me out of his life.”
Except for the two times Tenor had tried to reach out. Three, if I counted his message today.
I expected more anger from the two sisters. After all, it had been Bobby Morgan who had been terrible to their loved one. Bobby Morgan who had teased him over his size, how he dressed, what his extracurriculars were. Bobby Morgan who had tried to make Tenor hate himself. And I’d paid for it.
They continued to study me with nothing but empathy.
“It’s done.” The hopelessness in my voice resonated through the office. I should quit talking, but it’d been a long week. “I can’t change my age and I can’t change the teenaged boy who knocked up my mom.”
Nothing but understanding filled Summer’s face. She folded her hands on her lap. “That’s what we wanted to talk to you about. I don’t think it’s your age, necessarily.”
Wynter nodded. “Or even your dad.”
I snorted. “You were not there. It was definitely my dad.”
Wynter tapped her chin. “Yes. But not in the way you think.” She dug in her bag and withdrew the book Tenor had left me. The Sense and Sensibility dust jacket was on it.
Emotion filled my chest. Embarrassment? Sadness? Irritation? “Why do you have that?”
“I found it in the garbage,” she said.
My heart sank. Right down to my toes. He’d thrown the book away? Because he’d seen what I had marked? What else had I been expecting?
Certainly not for him to dump the book, and then for his sister to find it.
“Getting teased so badly as a kid had an effect on him,” Summer said, retrieving me from my ruminations. “We can’t deny that. But part of why we think Bobby—your dad—was so hard on Tenor was because Tenor didn’t change a damn thing. Tenor kept doing Tenor and that pissed your dad off.”
Dad had thankfully dealt with whatever had caused that particular personality trait in him, but I didn’t understand where they were going with this.
“But after Tenor’s looks changed and girls started to notice him, he was different.” Sadness laced Wynter’s voice. “He tried to be the guy they wanted. Who they expected him to be.”
“Very not Tenor,” Summer said. “He’d take them on the dates they expected, he’d talk about football—which he gives zero fucks about—or bands?—”
“If the singer isn’t Junie, he doesn’t care,” Wynter interjected.
Summer nodded. “One time, I heard him mention a spreadsheet hack around a date and she scoffed, asking who the hell likes spreadsheets. He’s never mentioned his love of Excel since.”
“Anyone close to Tenor knows he loves Excel,” Wynter said solemnly.
“And inventory systems,” I said.
Summer gave me a heavy smile. “Yes. Then came Katrina.”
“The fallout was bad.” Wynter’s fraught expression told me I’d hate what came next. “He hid all the best parts of himself, and their relationship was so superficial she never realized he lived at home.”
I scrunched my face up. “How did she miss that?”
“She had a place in town and was always asking him to drag her to a bigger city or fly to one for concerts and theater .” Summer said the last word with a pretentious tone. “She hated that he had standing nights each week when he couldn’t do things with her. Our best guess is that she thought he was cheating on her.”
Tenor would never.
Summer nodded like she’d heard my thoughts. “So when she found out that big ranch of his wasn’t his alone and that he lived with his parents, she was pissed. On top of that, she learned he was leaving town for game nights with a bunch of dudes? She lost it.”
“She waged a one-woman smear campaign on him,” Wynter said. “After a few days, Teller found Tenor on his land, burning his Warhammer books. Apparently, he’d been in town and some guys had given him a hard time about what they’d heard. They thought it was funny. Everyone knew Katrina was superficial and just shy of batshit crazy, but she was gorgeous, so she got away with it, and suddenly Tenor was that middle school kid getting bullied all over again.”
“That’s awful.” Though not a surprise. I’d pieced as much together.
Summer hooked her hands around her knees. “We aren’t telling you that so you feel sorry for him. Or so you forgive how he’s letting his past affect the very good thing you two had. We just wanted you to understand that it’s not you, it’s him.”
Wynter nodded. “While we love our brother, he can overprotect himself.”
“He built his house with the thought he wouldn’t have a family,” I said, empty. The signs had been there.
Summer sighed. “Yeah, we all figured. We’re not here to lobby on his behalf. It’s just that we understand the hurt you’re feeling. The loves of our lives each did stupid stuff to protect themselves. They broke up with us to protect themselves.”
I chewed the inside of my cheek. These ladies were everything I thought I would have to be to keep a guy. Smart, beautiful, and charismatic. They were the nicer versions of Cara that I assumed men like Brock wanted.
In my mind, I’d gotten dumped for the same reason I’d always been dumped. I wasn’t enough. I wasn’t worth the effort or the risk. So I’d walked. I’d walled myself off.
Now Summer and Wynter were telling me they’d had similar experiences with the men they were happily married to? “They broke up with you?”
“Ended it all,” Wynter said.
I gnawed the sensitive flesh of my cheek. Yet Wynter and Myles were married with kids. Same with Summer and Jonah. They’d managed to weather the storms of their dating life. “How did you...” I blinked back tears, and my gaze skated away. Fear clogged my throat.
“We each took a risk,” Summer said. “Because we thought they were worth it.”
I cleared the growing lump out of my throat. “Did Tenor tell you how we started dating?” No surprise rose up inside me when they both nodded. “He said he was going to show me what I deserved in my dating life. Mission accomplished, I guess.”
Summer leaned forward. “Unless you think he can be what you deserve.”
And we were back to the beginning. I couldn’t trust him to be what I deserved. I couldn’t trust him with my heart.
Me: What did you want to talk about?
My curiosity had gotten the better of me this morning, but Tenor still hadn’t answered. I’d texted him right before I’d left Bozeman. I had to take myself by surprise and just do it. I briefly thought about swinging by his house—not because I was desperate to see him—but he probably wouldn’t be there.
Besides, it would’ve taken more courage than I had. I had wanted to go into my decision well informed, and just coming out and asking Tenor what he wanted was it.
It had seemed like a good plan. Until he hadn’t replied for hours.
He was probably working.
I took a swig of my almost clear Malibu and Coke. Madison had gone in the storeroom to help Allen find more Malibu. Madison and I had been the only two in Flatlanders at first, but a few more customers were populating the tables. It was early yet and I was on my second drink.
I held up my glass to the dim lights behind the bar. “Allen, do you realize how strong you make these? Coke is a lot cheaper than rum.”
“You here to give business advice too, Rue?” He leaned in and smirked at my boobs. “I mean, Ruby.”
“Eyes up here.” I pointed my index finger and middle finger at my face. “My boobs don’t have a mouth, but if you keep staring at them, they will bite you.”
He grinned and it was just sly of sleazy. “Promise?”
I snickered. “I walked right into that one.”
He laughed. “I appreciate nice tits. What can I say?”
Allen was one of the few men who could get away with being a little sleazy. Madison had introduced him as a cousin. Her brother was out of town, and she swore again he knew why I was here. She also mentioned that she might’ve asked him when he was drunk and he might not remember he’d said yes afterward, but the bar’s books were getting too bad to ignore. His reputation was tanking the place. She hoped to remedy some of the damage via social media. I could help with that.
Madison breezed out of the back room and sat on the stool next to me. She adjusted her notebook and picked up her pen. “Sorry, where were we? Oh, the algorithm.” She wrinkled her nose. “I don’t think I’ll ever understand that.”
“It’s an ever-changing thing, but the important part is that others spend a ton of time understanding it so you don’t have to reinvent the wheel. Here’s what I’ve gleaned.” I happily geeked out on all things scroll feed and for-you-page related. I glossed over the different posts I’d tried, the types of videos that I’d found responded the best, and other variations I had tried over the eighteen months I’d worked at Copper Summit.
Allen placed a third drink in front of me with slightly more Coke than the last time.
“Just get comfortable with notes and spreadsheets. If you have someone who can design the shit out of a spreadsheet, it helps so much. Whatever I asked for, Tenor could—” My breath caught in my throat. My vision got all cloudy. I swiped at my eyes. Tears. Dammit.
“Everything okay, Ruby?” Madison asked softly.
No. It hadn’t been okay for almost a month. All I got for trying to be true to myself was lingering heartbreak. “You ever fall in love with someone and then they hurt you and you want so badly to forgive them but you’re scared?”
Her dark brows lifted the more I prattled.
I sucked down more of my drink. “Yeah. I’m pathetic.”
“No.” She sighed. “You’re relatable.”
“Really?” I sniffled and emptied the rest of my glass. The ice tinkled as I knocked it back. Madison had said the drinks were on the house. My second time getting free drinks.
The first time I’d been in this bar, Tenor had carried me out as soon as he’d realized I didn’t like all the attention. I had only liked his attention.
More tears piled onto my eyelids. “I really fell for him, Madison. And I keep telling myself he’s no different than the others, but what if I’m wrong? I feel wrong. I want to be wrong. But how do I know?”
She shook her head, interest and concern lighting her eyes. “I have no idea what happened, but I’m the last one who should be giving relationship advice. My ex-husband cheated on me with someone I considered family.”
“Oof—that sucks. Now you’re out a husband and a friend.”
Sadness darkened her brown eyes. “It’s not like I have a well of friends.”
I snorted a little too loud, thanks to the Malibu. “Right? I have none. Want to be my friend?”
Her smile was real but a little shy. “Sure, Ruby. I’ll be your friend.” The sadness lingered, like she thought that once the drinks wore off, I’d think differently.
She really was nice. The resting bitch face she had was admirable. Mine was a resting Snow White face and it hadn’t served me well.
Through my third drink and part of a fourth, I poured my heart out to her. Tonight, she was my only friend. Wynter and Summer had promised nothing had changed, but I couldn’t hang out with them and talk about my life when their brother had broken my heart.
What if I had broken his?
All the Coke and alcohol caught up with me, and thankfully, it was enough to distract me.
“I’ve gotta go pee.” I wobbled to the bathroom. Shit. I was dizzy. Twice, I hit the sides of the stall, and if I had been sober, I might’ve gagged. Gross. Social media wasn’t going to remodel the old, cramped bathrooms.
I squinted at the words scratched into the wooden stall door. If you’re reading this, blow him.
I giggled and a sob came out. I couldn’t blow him. I’d ruined it. Tenor had reached out in the sweetest way, and I had retaliated by being a dick back. He’d trashed the book, and then he’d trashed me.
I had been too late.
I did not deserve him.
I cried and sniffled as I washed my hands. I zigzagged back out. Madison cast a furtive glance my way and did a double take. “Aw, Ruby.”
She pulled me into a hug. Not only was she taller than me, she was strong as hell. I got crushed in her grip and I savored it.
“I’m sorry. Thank you for sharing with me.” She sounded so formal.
I slid onto my stool and nearly careened off the other side. I righted myself and waited for my vision to settle.
Another Malibu and Coke was slid in front of me.
“Th-thanks.” I reached for it, but Madison snatched it away.
She pushed it toward Allen and gave him a warning glare. “She’s cut off. Give her a Coke.”
“No,” I pouted. I was freshly drunk, but I agreed with her. If he kept feeding me drinks, I’d keep drowning my sorrows and that was so unlike me. As it was, I was stuck in Flatlanders for hours until I sobered up. “The last time I got drunk, I crawled into Tenor’s bed and got myself off.”
Allen paused midpour.
Oops. I shouldn’t have said that out loud.
“He was so sweet about it.” Another sniffle squeaked out.
Madison rubbed my back.
Allen sidled in front of me to talk to Madison. “Can you guys sit in a booth or something? My dream lady’s back in town and the crying girl is going to scare her away.”
I was a girl and some other stranger was called a lady? Fuck you, Allen.
Madison scowled. “Dream lady?” She looked around.
I did too, squinting. A gorgeous woman wearing shorts that framed long damn legs and glossy blond hair pulled back in a high ponytail was leaning against the counter.
Madison sighed. “Really? Her ?”
“She doesn’t show up very often,” Allen argued, eyeing the new arrival’s legs. Should someone warn her about the way he ogled boobs? “One of these days, she’s going home with me.”
Madison rolled her eyes.
“Do you even know what her face looks like?” I asked him.
“I hate to break it to you, cuz,” Madison said, “but unless you own a yacht club, she’s not going home with you. Katrina aims high.”
I sucked in a loud breath that turned heads my way. Including hers. “Katrina? Are you that Katrina?”
Of course she was beautiful. Gorgeous and sophisticated.
I hadn’t tamed my hair and it frizzed out around my head. Dark circles ringed my eyes, and I had worn thick joggers even though it was in the high seventies outside.
Alarm filled Katrina’s eyes, and she looked around, putting a dainty hand to her chest. “I’m Katrina, but I don’t know if I’m who you’re looking for.”
Her gaze grew more frantic as I plopped off the stool, somehow managing to land on my feet. “Oh, you’re her.”
I had no idea, but my brain had taken the idea and run with it.
“Shit,” Madison muttered. She grabbed her phone and hovered next to me.
“Do I know you?” Katrina side-eyed me with her perfect cat eye like I was a rabid skunk.
Between the two of us, yes, I was the smelly animal. I reeked of rum and sadness. She smelled expensive and sexy.
“You were so mean.” I stomped my foot. Bad idea. The rum hit hard, and my balance sucked.
She drew back. “Sorry?”
“Tenor.” When she blanched, I nodded, my hair bouncing. “He’s the best man I’ve ever met but he couldn’t trust me because of you, and then I couldn’t trust him because of my dad and you.”
Katrina’s gaze darted around and she shifted her stance like she was going to run. “That was a long time ago, and I don’t know who your dad is.”
“You broke him. Because you’re mean .” My fuzzy mind grasped for a more articulate argument, but the tipsy part of my brain thought I’d nailed it.
Her eyes sparked. “He lied to me first.”
Light speared through the bar as the door opened, but my focus was on Katrina. “I doubt that. You just assumed. You assumed you could strap yourself in for that Bailey money. You just never realized they worked for it.”
She sucked in an indignant gasp. “That’s not tr?—”
“Shut it. You did enough talking, now someone gets to talk back. I don’t care who you are, who your grandma is, or how goddamn pretty you are, I’m telling you off for him. He was too nice to do it.”
She lifted her chin. “Does his mama still cook for him?”
“Yes,” I hissed. “And it’s delicious .” I bared my teeth like I really was rabid. “And he still paints his models and plays Warhammer. And I read romance. And then at the end of the night, he reenacts the naughty scenes with me and it’s hot .”
Her expression flushed with shock and, if I wasn’t mistaken, regret.
“He’s so sweet,” I continued and the tears were back. “He calls me Goldilocks because he wanted to show me everything that was just right. Everything I deserve in a relationship. But he doesn’t realize that he’s just right. He’s everything I want and deserve, and I was too jaded because I have a shitty ex too.”
The remorse in her eyes grew just before her gaze lifted over my shoulder. Relief and interest filled her face. Her lips curled up. “Is this little drunk girl yours? Have you started snagging them young so they don’t complain about Mama’s house?”
A growl left me and I balled my fists. I’d tear her luxurious locks out. “I’d take him if he lived in a barn. I’m not a superficial, greedy bi?—”
“Goldilocks.” A strong arm slipped around my waist. A finger tilted my chin up.
I had to be hallucinating. Hearing him in my drunk dreams. Feeling his strong hold around me. How strong were those drinks? But when I looked up, it was into his soft pecan eyes, glittering with affection. “Tenor?”
He studied me. “Am I really everything you want and deserve?”
A hot tear rolled down my cheek and he caught it with the pad of his thumb. “Yes.”
“Good. Because I’m in love with you.”
“I’m a little drunk,” I whispered. He’d caught me yelling at his ex. He hadn’t even looked her way. “Are you really here, or am I hallucinating?”
“I’m really here. Madison used your phone to call me.”
I frowned. Was that why she had looked guilty when I came out of the bathroom? Or when I’d gotten in Katrina’s face? Both? I’d thank her later. She’d given me the chance I thought I had lost. “I’m really sorry. The book was so thoughtful. It was perfect. Just like you.”
“I’m not perfect, and you showed me that’s okay. You were right. Words weren’t enough. I have to show you I mean it.”
Out of the corner of my eye, Katrina pushed her hair back and struck a sexy pose that’d dislocate my hip. “She’s drunk and she’s crazy.”
“Enough, Katrina,” he said, his voice hard but his attention only on me. “Like my girlfriend said, you’ve done enough talking.”
She made a disgusted noise. “Your girlfriend doesn’t know what she’s talk?—”
“Don’t you dare insult my daughter or her boyfriend,” said a man from behind me.
I frowned and spun, still in Tenor’s hold. “Dad?”