Chapter 7 #2
She lifted a brow. “Yeah. And you expect me to believe that.”
“Oh, I know you won’t believe it.” His brows furrowed, and his thumb traced a circle on the inside of her wrist. “I’d just like to have some company. Perhaps you’d be willing to humor me.”
One deep-fried onion was half-eaten while the second sat in the server’s area for her co-workers to enjoy when she placed a sirloin and a country-fried chicken dish on the table.
Mack stared up at her expectantly, then down at his watch. “By my count, your break starts in one minute. Have you decided?”
Lacey stood at the edge of the table, only glancing toward the kitchen once before sliding down into the bench across from Mack. Her stomach growled. She hadn’t been able to pick at the onion that Mack had purchased to share as her tables had kept her busy.
“And what kind of conversation were you expecting to have? Because I’m not going to argue about why I’m not going to date you.” Her defenses were weak. He could probably sense it. She didn’t like the idea of him seeing through her, and the more time she spent in his presence gave him exactly that.
Mack gestured to the meals. “Okay. Now, I’m happy to have half of each, but I don’t know if you’re one of those people who hates germs. So, if you don’t like that idea, you pick one.”
“What?” She stilled, staring at the table full of food. It was all too much for him to eat, but she’d thought he was just trying to get her out to his table more often than she was with the college guys a few feet away. “I’m not eating that.”
“It’s your break, isn’t it? Aren’t you allowed to eat something?”
“Well, yeah… but you bought?—”
“Sirloin or chicken?” He frowned. “Please don’t tell me you only eat salads.”
“ Mack ,” she snapped in a whisper, “I’m not going on a date?—”
“It’s food . No harm in eating.”
She studied the food, hating the way her stomach betrayed her when it gurgled. “Chicken,” she conceded.
“Chicken it is,” Mack murmured, pushing the plate toward her.
Lacey picked up the fork and knife and took a bite. A moan slipped between her lips. It didn’t matter how many shifts she worked, she didn’t get to eat here often. She simply didn’t have the money to splurge.
“So, talk,” he said after a swallow.
“About what?” She eyed him, cutting another piece of chicken.
Mack shrugged. “Anything. Why you moved back here. What’s it like being a single mother. Is Bridger’s father in the picture. That sort of stuff.”
She frowned. They weren’t secrets, but sharing them almost felt like she was opening a door to the unknown.
Lacey chewed thoughtfully. “I moved here because it made sense financially. It’s more expensive in Billings.
As for being a single mother, it’s hard.
Everyone knows that. And Bridger’s father is a jerk who told me to ‘take care of it’ when I found out I was pregnant.
” It still hurt to recall that conversation.
Mack scowled. The fury that simmered in his gaze was like nothing she’d ever seen before. If she didn’t know him the way she did, she might have even flinched upon seeing it. “You shouldn’t have had to deal with that.”
She shrugged, the words coming easier now. “It takes two to tango, you know. I was a kid when I got pregnant, but I knew it was a possibility.” A humorless smile tugged at her lips. “Once upon a time, I had a rebellious streak.”
“Is that why you feel the need to control everything in your life now?”
Her head snapped up, and she stared at him in surprise. “I don’t have to control everything.”
Mack snickered. “You do a pretty good job at keeping people at arms’ length. But I have a feeling it’s because you need to keep Bridger safe. It’s admirable, really.”
A snort burst from her lips. “Says the man who won’t leave me alone to do what I think is best.”
“But is it? Is it really best to shut people out when they want to get closer to you?”
She couldn’t find a retort for his question.
The only one she felt safe letting in was Angela.
Not even her parents were safe anymore—not if they thought they could take her son from her again.
A lump formed in her throat so large, she wasn’t sure she’d be able to speak, but she powered through, changing the subject. “What about you?”
“What about me?”
Lacey gave him a pointed look. “What do you want to be when you grow up?”
His grin widened. “By all accounts, I am grown up.”
“And do you enjoy what you do? Have you always wanted to be a cowboy? According to Angela, you didn’t grow up here. You visited during the summer.”
“What else has Angela told you about me?”
Was he avoiding her question? Lacey narrowed her eyes. Her lips set into a firm line. If she told him what Angela had said, it would successfully put an end to their conversation. Lacey cocked her head to the side. “You first.”
He put his fork on his plate and leaned back in his seat, lacing his fingers behind his neck. “Realistic? Or dream?”
“Shouldn’t it be both?”
“The rodeo.”
Her brows lifted. “You want to compete in the rodeo? Is that even a career?”
He chuckled and placed a hand over his heart. “You wound me. Yes, it can be a career. But you have to be really good.”
“And why aren’t you going for it?”
He stared at her in a way she hadn’t seen before. Apparently, she’d surprised him with her response. “Because…”
“Because why ? You can’t expect to get better at something without practice. And it’s important to have a purpose—one you believe in, one you enjoy. They don’t call it a dream for nothing.”