Chapter 2 #2
And she broke my fucking heart. So I should be the pissed-off one. I didn’t say that to him because I didn’t talk about it. About how fucked-up it all was in the end.
Hugh
She’s at the bar that your family owns, so I’m guessing she’d be fine if you showed up. She wouldn’t have come here if she wanted to avoid you.
I rubbed my hands together, unsure of what to do. Hell, a part of me wanted to see her, but the other part of me—the one who hated the way we’d ended things—wasn’t sure it was such a great idea.
And I wasn’t a guy who avoided shit or got nervous about how to handle situations.
But everything had always been different with Presley.
We hadn’t spoken in years, and the last time we spoke hadn’t been pleasant. There was a lot of hurt and a lot of finger-pointing.
The knock on the door pulled me from my thoughts, and my infamous guard dog, Bob “Lazy-Ass” Picklepants, was snoring on the couch.
I pulled the door open, and Lila stood there smiling. My brother’s wife was a part of the family, and we all loved her.
“Don’t argue with me. Go.” She walked past me and pointed at the door behind her.
“When did you get so bossy?”
She raised a brow. “Hugh said you were going to fight me, and I’m not having it. You need to go see her. Stop being a baby.”
“A baby? Oh, for fuck’s sake. I’m not afraid of her. I just don’t feel like putting myself or her in an awkward situation. She probably still hates me,” I said, reaching for my coat.
“Sounds like the words of a big baby.” She laughed. “And I could use some cuddles from Maxine and Ole Bob over there.” She flicked her thumb at the lazy bastard, who had still yet to notice that someone had entered the house.
“I’m going. Gracie should be out for the night. I won’t be long.” I grabbed my truck keys.
“Take your time,” she said, just before I pulled the door open and locked it behind me.
I drove the short distance to Garrity’s and parked behind the bar. I yanked the back door open and held my hand over my head in greeting to Fred, the cook, and the two busboys who’d just been hired recently. Now that I was here, and I knew that she was here, I was suddenly in a hurry.
Would she want to see me?
I doubted it. We’d said some pretty horrible things to one another.
Hugh clapped me on the shoulder when I walked into the bar. “Hey, brother. She’s had an awful lot to drink, so don’t be a dick.”
“Why does everyone always lead with that? I’m not a dick,” I grumped, my eyes scanning the room.
At the very least, I hoped that I wouldn’t have any reaction to her.
That I wouldn’t feel anything for the woman I’d loved fiercely in another lifetime.
Feeling nothing for her would be fan-fucking-tastic.
Hell, maybe her visiting would be a form of closure for me.
Maybe I’d stop comparing everyone else to her, as if she sat on some sort of goddamn pedestal.
But it was the fucking parting of the seas when my gaze found hers on the dance floor.
There was nothing else in the room anymore. Not my brother’s voice babbling in my ear about how I should act, not the fifty locals who had been on that dance floor surrounding her just seconds ago.
All I saw was her.
Raven.
She’d always been the prettiest girl in the room, but after years of not seeing her, I hadn’t been prepared to have the wind knocked from my lungs.
Her dark jeans fit her like a second skin, and her white blouse accentuated her perky tits, with the button dipping low enough to make my mouth water at the sight of the pink lace peeking out. She had on tall brown boots, and her blonde hair fell in loose waves around her shoulders.
She looked up, as if she felt that same pull that I did. Her gaze locked with mine, and she raised a brow. Honey-brown eyes with pops of copper and gold brought me back to a time in my life I had tried hard to forget.
We both started walking toward one another, but her lips stayed in a straight line, giving away very little.
“Cowboy.” The single word slurred as it left her lips, and she held her chin high. Presley had never been a big drinker, but I didn’t know what she did anymore, did I?
“Hey,” I said, shoving my hands into my pockets because the urge to touch her was strong. “You all right?”
“Am I all right? Do you mean because I’ve had more cocktails than I can count on two hands?
Or do you mean because my father had a stroke, and my mother is the coldest human on the planet?
” She narrowed her gaze. “Or let me guess, you’re referring to the fact that my husband is having a baby with his assistant? ”
Shots fired.
“I guess I’m asking about all of it.”
“Well, I’m not your problem anymore, am I?” Her tone was harsh, and she stumbled a bit on her feet. “Obviously, I have a thing for guys who like to get other women pregnant.”
That shit pissed me off. But she was drunk, and it was a stupid thing to say. We weren’t together when I got Gracie’s mother pregnant. Hell, Presley was in a full relationship with her current asshole husband at the time.
No one was unfaithful, and maybe it would have been easier if one of us had been. It was just bad timing. Bad luck. Life throwing us a shit-ton of curveballs. I narrowed my gaze as I studied her, but I bit my tongue before I said anything that made matters worse.
We’d always been explosive together. The way we loved. The way we fought. The way we existed.
Lola came running over and gripped her best friend’s shoulders. “Hey, Cage. Uh, Pres, you look a little wobbly. Let me find us a ride home.”
“No. You’re having fun. You don’t need to leave. I can walk. Stay and have a good time. I just haven’t slept much, and I didn’t eat today. And now”—she glanced over at me—“I’m aggravated. I’ll walk home.”
“I’m not letting you walk home alone,” Lola said, her gaze shooting in my direction.
“I’ll take you home,” I said, wrapping an arm around Presley’s shoulder to stabilize her as the sweet citrus scent that literally brought back every one of my teenage memories hit me all at once.
Presley groaned as she turned to her best friend. “I hate asking him for a favor.”
“Him can hear you, so stop being a brat, and let’s get you in the truck. It’s not a favor; it’s on my way home. I don’t even have to stop the truck if you don’t want me to. I’ll just slow down and you can jump out.”
Lola laughed, and Presley turned her head and glared at me as we walked out the door.
“You sure you don’t mind taking her home?” Lola asked.
“I’m sure. I was leaving anyway,” I said as I balanced Presley on one side of me and pulled the truck door open.
She attempted to lift her leg multiple times, all while remaining in the exact same spot, and Lola laughed hysterically.
I scooped her up beneath her thighs and lifted her easily into the truck, her hand knocking into mine as she reached for the buckle.
Her fingers fought me for the strap, and my gaze locked with hers in challenge.
She couldn’t step into the truck two minutes ago.
I highly doubted she could maneuver the buckle into place.
“Let go,” I demanded, and she pinched my hand hard before letting me do it. Once I snapped it into place, I stepped back.
“You sure you’ve got her?” her best friend asked.
“I’m sure,” I said.
“All right. I’ll stay and hang out for a little longer. I’ll call you tomorrow, Pres.” Lola waggled her brows at me, and I rolled my eyes because the drunk woman in the truck was currently shooting daggers at me, so there was nothing funny about this.
I shut the passenger door and turned to wait for Lola to walk back inside. I might not be the cheeriest person on the planet, but I wasn’t an asshole. I wouldn’t leave a woman outside alone. “You sure you’ve got a ride home?”
“Yes, Dad,” she said, her voice all tease. “Hey, Cage.”
“Yeah.”
“Go easy on her. She’s had a lot on her plate lately.”
I nodded. I knew it was true, even if Presley would never admit it.
Lola walked inside, and I moved around the truck and climbed in before pulling out of the parking lot. I glanced over to see her watching me.
“Thanks for the ride,” she huffed.
“Not a problem.” I cleared my throat. Having her in this small space, with her scent all around me and her eyes on me, had me on edge.
“I saw the booster seat in the back. How old is your little girl now?”
“Gracie is five years old.” I drove toward her parents’ ranch.
“It’s still hard for me to believe that you’re a daddy. I mean, I always knew you’d be a great father.” She stared out the window when I pulled up the driveway of the grand ranch house, and she pointed to the new addition. “I’m staying in the guesthouse.”
Damn. The barn sat in the distance, and I had a vivid memory of the first time I met her. The first time I kissed her. Right there in that very place.
For the longest time, I was fairly certain Presley would be the last woman I’d ever kiss.
But life didn’t always go the way you planned.
I had a little girl waiting for me at home that was proof of that.
I put the truck in park and turned to face her. Hell, even my body was on edge now.
It was unfamiliar after all these years.
Feeling things.
Wanting things I had no right to want.
“You doing okay?” I couldn’t stop myself from asking. I already knew the answer. And as much as I hated that she’d married another man, I wanted to kill him for hurting her.
A feral need to protect this woman had always been there since the day I’d met her.
She shook her head, and a single tear streaked down her face. I reached forward, but she held up a hand to stop me from touching her.
“I’m drunk. That’s all this is. I don’t want your pity, Cage.” She sucked in a breath and squared her shoulders.
“It’s not pity. I know you’re hurting. Having your husband do what he did, and then the whole world knowing what happened… that can’t feel good.”
Her jaw clenched, and her gaze narrowed. “You know nothing about my marriage. You know nothing about me anymore. But know one thing for certain”—her voice was shaking now, and she scrambled for the door handle—“you are the reason that my life is the disaster that it is.”
She thrust her door open and stumbled to get out. I got unbuckled and hurried around to help her.
“Don’t touch me!” she shouted, flailing her arms, which was causing her drunk ass to lose balance. I wrapped an arm around her shoulder, even though she fought me on it.
We’d always been like this, even when we were together.
We were both strong.
Both stubborn.
But always ended up wrapped around one another at the end of the day.
“Stop being a stubborn ass. I’m just trying to keep you from falling. You’re drunk, and getting hurt right now is not going to help things.”
She stopped fighting me, but I could see her chest rising and falling rapidly when I glanced over at her. Tears were coming down her pretty face, which caused a sharp pain to hit me in the chest. I could count on one hand the times that I’d seen her cry in all the years I’d known her.
Once we were standing in front of her door, she jerked away from me and held her chin high. “I’m fine. I haven’t needed your help for a very long time.”
She pushed the door open, and I fought the urge to scold her for leaving it unlocked. It was a small town, but that didn’t mean she shouldn’t be careful.
“I’m more than aware that you don’t need me. But I’m not the enemy here.” My gaze locked with hers. I wasn’t ready to walk away from her yet.
“Sure. You’re not the enemy. Congratulations. You’re just the guy that ruined me.” She slammed the door in my face, and I stood there for a moment before shouting back at her.
“Lock the goddamn door!” I hissed.
She cursed from the other side, and I waited until I heard the lock turn before I walked back toward my truck.
I wondered if this would be the last time that I’d see her again for another couple years.
My chest tightened again.
Just like it did all those years ago.