Chapter 2 Mason
mason
Giddy Up, the local cowboy bar, wasn’t exactly my idea of a good time, but my buddy Jonah had asked me to get a beer, so here we were.
It had been over six months since I’d moved home, but sometimes it still felt like I was an outsider.
I was back in Montana to stay. This was home.
I loved it here—the way the air was crisp and fresh.
The feeling of riding my horse across our property, with the air whipping through my hair.
Being able to wear my hat and boots without the city girls looking at me funny.
After all, I’d been born and raised on the ranch. It was about time I took over from my parents. They were both getting older, and after the last ten years in Washington, it was good to be back.
Tugging my hat off, I ran my hand through my dark hair as I stared up at the old, shoddy exterior. Jonah, standing at my side, was wearing a pair of dark-wash jeans and a giant grin on his face.
“Remind me why we’re here again?” I asked as he opened the door.
“We’re getting a drink,” he answered seriously.
I resisted rolling my eyes. Sure, I was thirty-six, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t find him completely ridiculous. “But why here? There’s so many other bars in town.” Bars that weren’t full of tourists looking to score a real-life cowboy. I’d had enough of that at the ranch.
My friend grinned. “It’s line dancing night.”
That’s when I realized the bar was full of women. Women who stared at us like we were their next meal. I groaned, turning back to my friend. “No.”
“Yes.” His look was downright roguish, and I knew he’d played me.
“Jonah—”
“It’s been a year since your divorce was finalized, man. It’s time to move on. Who knows, maybe you’ll find a nice girl here tonight?”
“I need a beer,” I muttered, moving over to the bar and waving down the bartender.
What I didn’t need right now was a wingman. Or to find a woman.
I was perfectly content with my life the way it was.
Even though sometimes I craved companionship and a warm body next to mine.
Not that I’d ever admit it. I looked at my bare ring finger, where I could almost see the ghost of a ring.
The reminder of my failed marriage. It had been a year since I’d taken it off, and yet I still felt the weight of it on my skin.
Fuck, I was a mess. I was still trying to get my head on straight.
After the bartender slid my drink over to me, I brought the glass to my mouth, taking a long pull.
My eye caught on a brunette leaning against the opposite end of the bar. Gorgeous curves. Long silky brunette hair that would look perfect wrapped around my fist. I couldn’t see her face, but damn. She was talking to a redhead, holding an old-fashioned glass in her hand.
A girl with taste. I liked that.
But damn, this was so not what I needed right now.
“You should go say hi,” Jonah said, smirking.
I pushed at his shoulder. “That defeats the purpose of celebrating being single, doesn’t it?”
“Nah. You deserve a little fun.”
Grumbling, I downed the rest of my beer. “Maybe I’m just not any fun anymore.”
“That’s bullshit, and you know it.”
Jonah quirked an eyebrow. “Is it?”
Scrubbing my hand across my beard, I pondered that thought. Fun. “I haven’t been with anyone since—”
“Since Maggie. I know.”
God, was it that obvious? I sighed. “Fuck, man. I’m not ready for a relationship, and you know it.”
“Now, who said anything about a relationship?” He gave me a shit-eating grin. “Just go say hi to the beautiful woman, Mace. Have fun, remember?”
“I don’t know.” I rolled my empty glass between my hands. “You sure? I don’t want to ditch you.”
“Yes, my man. Go. She’s been looking over here and checking you out, too.” My best friend grinned. “Show her you know how to show a lady a good time, alright?”
Fuck it. I could be fun. I could go flirt with the most gorgeous girl in this godforsaken bar and not think about tomorrow. For tonight, I could pretend I wasn’t going home alone to an empty cabin. That my marriage hadn’t failed, setting me back to square one at thirty-five years old.
My entire life, I’d had a plan for my future. Only now that I was here, closer to forty than I was to thirty, none of it had come true. Still, the ranch would be mine soon. That was something.
Maybe I’d wasted my youth on the wrong woman, but I wouldn’t make that mistake again.
I adjusted the hat on my brow before sliding my thumbs into my front pockets. Was I really going to do this? Go over there and say… what? Hi?
What the fuck was I supposed to say? The last time I’d asked a girl out, I was in college.
Before I knew what I was doing, I was halfway across the bar. No turning back now. I could do this. I could be that guy again.
Sliding in behind her, I wrapped my hand over her waist, letting it rest on her hip as I dipped my head down to whisper in her ear. “Hey, gorgeous.” She turned around, and—“Fuck.”
I knew her. She wasn’t just some brunette beauty in a bar—this was my childhood best friend’s little sister. Emily Sullivan.
Little Emmie Sullivan.
Jesus, how could I not have recognized her? I stepped back, pulling my arm back, so I wasn’t touching her. Still, the sensation fizzled from where my skin had brushed over hers, like there were actual sparks. It felt I was a goddamn high schooler all over again. “I didn’t—”
“What, cowboy?” She cocked her head, fluttering her eyelashes. “Expecting someone else?”
It had been years since I’d seen her, and goddamn. Maybe that was why I was completely tongue-tied, standing in front of her like I couldn’t remember my own name.
Her redheaded friend at her side laughed, whispered something in her ear, and then disappeared back towards a table.
“Hi, Em,” I croaked. I didn’t know what I expected seeing her for the first time after all these years, but it hadn’t been this. The years had been good to her. She was a far cry from the shy little kid she was back when I was in high school and spent every day with Hunter.
Emily was nothing like I remembered. She was even more gorgeous up close, where I could appreciate every inch of her body.
That silky brown hair that hung down her back.
Her dark green eyes reminded me of Christmas trees.
Her body, wrapped up in jeans that clung to every curve and a black top that showed off mouthwatering cleavage.
Lips painted red as sin. Sultry eyes. Fuck.
All things I absolutely should not be noticing about Hunter’s little sister.
I shut my eyes. Damn. Hunter. We were best friends growing up, though we’d grown apart when we’d gone to different colleges.
It was understandable, though. He’d gone to medical school and become a pediatric doctor, while I’d been perfectly happy staying at Montana State and getting a degree in Ranch Management.
After all, one day the Elliott horse ranch would be mine. Except… I’d met Maggie and had ended up in Washington. In the life I thought would fulfill me—would make me happy. But it hadn’t. It had just left me bitter and resentful, and we wanted two different things.
She gave me a soft smile, twirling a brunette strand with her finger. “Hey, Mason. It’s been, what, two years?”
“God, yeah.” The last time I’d seen her had been at Hunter and Gabbi’s wedding, though I hadn’t really noticed her then. I’d spent most of the night fighting with Maggie. I’d seen the writing on the wall for months before the wedding, but that was when it had been over for me.
“Mom told me you moved back. I’m sorry to hear about the divorce.” Emily ran her finger over the rim of her glass.
“I’m not,” I admitted, reaching out to place my hand over hers before thinking better of it.
Touching her was bad. Touching her was definitely not something I should do.
She blinked. I wondered if she’d expected that from me—honesty. But I didn’t regret getting a divorce. I didn’t wish that things had worked out with my ex-wife anymore. She’d made her choice, and I’d made mine.
“Oh.” Emily bit her lip. “I don’t—” She let out a small laugh. “I guess I don’t know what to say.”
“You don’t have to say anything.” I shook my head, shoving my hands into my pockets. “It’s in the past.” I rubbed my empty ring finger. “Besides, I’m over it.” The lie felt wrong, even on my tongue, but the more I said it, the more it would be true, right?
All I could do was move forward. I knew what I wanted, now more than ever. The ranch. A family. A life of love and laughter. Things we would never have together. I didn’t blame her, but I’d long since stopped mourning the life I’d thought we would have.
“Well, in that case…” Her lips curled up. “Maybe we should start over.”
“Oh, good. So we can forget about when I slid in here, thinking you were just a beautiful stranger in a bar and attempting to flirt with you?”
“Is that what we’re calling it?” Her eyes sparkled with mischief.
“Oh, I’m definitely never going to forget about that, cowboy.
” There was something about the way she said the word, about her eyes landing on my hat, that made me want to be bold.
Want to embrace whatever this was, going on between us.
I shrugged, taking a drink of my beer. “Well, it was worth a shot.”
“So, you think I’m beautiful, huh?” She twirled a strand of hair around her finger.
It was hard to deny. “You own a mirror, don’t you, darlin’?”
What was I thinking? She was eight years younger than I was, and totally fucking off-limits. I shouldn’t be telling her how pretty she looked tonight, how she took my breath away the moment I saw her across the room.
Hunter would kill me, wouldn’t he? This was his little sister. His baby sister.
And yet, there was no way I could pull myself away from her.
Her green eyes connected with mine, and we both laughed. It felt good to laugh with another person—to feel like, if only for a moment, I could let myself be free.
“It’s good to see you, Mason.” She smiled.
“You too, Emily.” There was a glow to her skin—a warmth that made her practically glow in this dimly lit, grungy bar.
“Haven’t seen you around much,” I said. Not that I’d spent many nights out since I’d moved back.
Most of the time, I had a date with my bed after working the ranch all day and then woke up before the sun rose each morning.
She fidgeted with the charm bracelet on her left wrist. “Yeah, I’ve been traveling a lot.
I’ve been back here and there—mostly to visit Hannah.
” She nodded towards where her friend was sitting at the table, texting on her phone.
She was vaguely familiar, though I assumed it was because they’d probably spent time at the Sullivan house when Hunter and I used to goof around after classes.
“I’ve been spending a lot of time in Portland, too.
” Emily tucked a piece of hair behind her ear.
“Visiting your brothers?” I guessed.
She nodded. “They’ve always been in such different places in their lives—that happens when you’re so much younger—but now… I don’t know. Both of them are so happy. Wives and babies and all that.” She waved her hand in the air. “And I’m just…”
“Stuck,” I answered for her. God, it felt like she was prying the word from my soul. We were in different situations, and yet…
“Exactly. Not that I don’t love my job, but… I guess I figured I’d have my life figured out by now.” Emily frowned. “I don’t know why I just told you that.” She stared down at her empty glass.
I chuckled. “Maybe we should get another round of drinks?” I looked across the bar at Jonah, who was chatting with two girls, a blonde and a dark-haired duo. He was fine.
She nodded, and I waved over the bartender and ordered us both another drink. “On me,” I insisted.
“Thank you,” she murmured.
I raised my glass after he set both down in front of us. “Of course. My pleasure.” Emily clinked hers against mine. “Cheers,” I said, taking a sip.
She hummed. “What are we celebrating?”
“Old friends?”
Emily rolled her eyes. “We were never friends, Mason.” She looked away. “Back then, I was nothing more than your best friend’s annoying kid sister. I was practically invisible.”
I frowned. Maybe she’d been younger than Hunt and me, but I’d never minded when she tagged along with us. “Maybe we weren’t friends then. But that doesn’t mean we can’t be friends now.” I winked at her.
She pursed her lips as if she were debating the idea.
“Is the thought of being friends with me really so bad?” I placed my hand over my heart. “I’m hurt, Emmie girl.”
Her cheeks turned pink, and she looked away—bashful. This was the Emily I remembered: quiet and always blushing around me.
Not the vixen of a woman in front of me, the one who looked like temptation and sin.
The totally off-limits gorgeous girl who I definitely wasn’t allowed to want.