Chapter 8 #3
“No, it’s okay, really. I’ve got to go to the store anyway.”
“Well, let me give you the money for all of―”
“No,” Dora said forcefully. “It’s not necessary. Really. Now, Jensen, you should take this girl out tonight on a real date and have a good time. This is the closest to a vacation you’ve had in a long time, and you could go somewhere in town. Wouldn’t that be nice?”
“Town?” Shyanna asked.
“Yeah. Greenville. It’s the town closest to here that’s decent-sized. I bet we can find something to get into,” Jensen said around a mouthful of casserole.
“Just be careful how into it you get,” Dora scolded, then chuckled.
Shyanna’s inner child breathed a deep sigh of relief. Maybe everything would be okay.
Jensen knew exactly what he was looking for, and he knew where to go to get it. As soon as they’d eaten at the closest steakhouse in the city, he dragged Shyanna to the mall, kicking and screaming the whole way. “I hate malls!” she said as they crossed the parking lot hand in hand.
“You’ll like this one. Stop whining,” he said and leaned over to kiss her. She deflected him easily, then laughed at his disappointed face. “Wow. That’s all I get for a steak dinner?”
“In the parking lot, yes. And I didn’t have steak―I had chicken,” she reminded him. That just made him smile bigger. The woman was as stubborn and hardheaded as anyone he’d ever seen. No wonder he loved her so much.
They wandered through the mall, him trying to get her to buy some high-heeled boots and her threatening to kick his ass if he suggested it again. They’d gotten almost to the end of one wing when Jensen said, “Ah. Here we are! Bet you can find some things in here.”
The sign on the front read “Betty’s Western Wear,” and the clothing was almost exclusively women’s.
They had a little corner in the store where they had a big rack of men’s jeans folded neatly and sorted by sizes, plus a couple of racks of western shirts.
They carried boots for men and women, too, and he saw Shyanna eyeing a pair of them from afar.
But that wasn’t why he wanted to come there.
As she browsed around the store, he spoke quietly to the clerk at the front, showing her a picture on his phone, and she nodded and walked away.
“Whatcha finding?” he asked when he walked up on her. Both hands had a hanger in them, and she held first one shirt and then the other up in front of her, looking at them in the mirror. “Nice,” he said, nodding.
“Which one looks better?” she asked, still looking at her reflection.
“I like the turquoise-colored one best. The orange one doesn’t really flatter the color of your skin,” he said.
Shyanna turned and stared up at him. “Really? You don’t like it that much?”
“No. I mean, it’s a pretty shirt, but I think they’ve got others here that would look much better on you.”
She looked around the store at all the ladies shirts. “Okay, like which one?” she asked, and she wasn’t being sarcastic. It surprised him that she really wanted his input.
He looked through a rack or two and pulled out a shirt. “This one. I like this one, and I think it would look good on you.” He held up the red and white, very traditional-looking shirt.
“Hmmm.” Taking it from his hand, she walked straight up to a mirror and held it up. “I see what you mean. It looks a lot better than that orange. Okay. I’m going to get the turquoise one and the red one. And I want to look at these boots back here,” she said, pointing to the shoe section.
“Let me have those and I’ll take them to the register for you,” Jensen offered, and she handed them over and headed to the boots. When he’d dropped them off, he made his way to the back and looked down at her feet. “So what did you find?”
“These,” she said and lifted her pant leg. The boots were beautiful―a deep, dark mahogany red with black inlay and black stitching. “Whaddya think?”
“I think they’re gorgeous. Getting them?”
“I’ve got to see how much money I have,” she said, pulling out her phone.
“Nope. I’m paying for this shopping spree,” he announced.
“No, Jensen. I pay for my own things.”
“Then consider them gifts. I’m paying for them,” he repeated.
“No! I mean it! I don’t want you buying things for me! I’ll―”
He snatched the box the boots came in and headed to the register. “Paying!” he called back to her.
“No! Don’t you … Jensen, I mean it! Oh, shit!” she yelled, and he saw her trying to get the boots off and get hers back on. That set him to laughing.
By the time she got to the register, he’d paid for everything and she was fuming. “You shouldn’t have done that.”
“Too late. I did.”
Her mouth was set in a hard, straight line. “But you shouldn’t have.”
“Too late. I did,” he repeated.
Shyanna shook her head and looked away from him. “What in the hell am I going to do with you?”
“I’ve got some ideas,” he said, and she whipped her head around and glared at him. “No, not that! I meant, well …” Leaning in to her ear, he whispered, “You could tell me you love me.”
She didn’t say a word, and it terrified him.
Maybe she really didn’t care anything about him.
By the time they got to the truck, he was in a funk.
He helped her in, put her bags behind the seat, and climbed in on the driver’s side, but he couldn’t make his hand turn the key in the ignition.
All he could do was stare out the windshield until a tiny voice said, “Jensen?”
The thought of all the things she might say was terrifying to him, but he turned to look at her anyway. “Yeah?”
That big boulder of dread in the middle of his chest started to dissolve when she reached over and took his hand. “Look, I’d like to say that to you. Really, I would. But every time I’ve said that to somebody, they’ve bailed on me. Every time. And I don’t want that to happen here.”
“But by now you should know―” he started, but she interrupted him.
“I know. It’s me, not you. But it’s my fear, and I don’t know what to do about it. Time, maybe?” she said, and Jensen nodded. “And until I’m really, really comfortable with there being an us, I can’t. Do you understand?”
He nodded in defeat. “Yeah. I do.”
“Good. Because I don’t want you thinking I don’t care anything about you. That’s not true. Okay?”
“Okay.” He sat there for a few seconds, wondering if he should follow his original plan, then decided to go for it.
Reaching over the back of the seat and rustling around in the bags, he finally found what he was looking for.
“I was going to wait until we got back to the house, but I think now is the time. Before I give this to you, I just want you to know that it doesn’t have a hidden meaning.
None. I don’t expect anything because of it.
But I want you to have it, and I hope every time you look at it, you think of me. ” He handed the box to her and waited.
Shyanna pulled the navy blue top off the silver-foiled box and gasped. “Oh my god. It’s one of those silver pieces, the ones made by the company that makes our rodeo buckles. Jensen, you shouldn’t―”
He sighed. “Can’t you just tell me thank you? Act like you like it a little bit?”
“I don’t like it. I love it.” Gee, wish it were that easy for her to say that about me, he thought, but he let it go.
Baby steps, he told himself. “It’s beautiful.
I’ve wanted one for a long time, but this one has a bull rider on it.
” She gazed down at the cuff bracelet like it was solid gold, then looked up and smiled. “You’re wrong.”
He could feel his eyebrows tip down in the center of the bridge of his nose. “Wrong about what?”
“You said there was no hidden meaning. But there is,” she said as she took the bracelet out of the box and held it up to the light coming through the truck’s side window, her eyes wide with wonder. “It does have a hidden meaning.”
“No, it―”
“Yes, it does. You bought me a bracelet with a bull rider on it. It says you believe in me. Is that right? Did I get it?” she asked, a hint of excitement in her voice.
Jensen’s eyes filled with tears. She asked so little and needed so much, and in that moment he felt totally inadequate.
Reaching for the bracelet, he slipped it on her arm and smiled.
“Yes. I believe in you, Shyanna. I’ve believed in you from the first second I saw you.
I told you before and I’ll tell you again: I’m beyond impressed with you and I respect you more than you’ll ever know.
And I’m committed to helping you. I’ve told you that over and over and I’m not kidding.
If I can help you reach your goals and realize your dreams in any way, all you have to do is say so.
Anything,” he said as he pressed his palm to her cheek.
“I love you, Shy. I know what that word means, and when I say it, I mean it.” Warmth flooded his chest as she turned her face slightly and kissed the center of his palm. “Now let’s go dancing.”
“No! I don’t dance!” she almost screamed.
“I don’t care. I’ll teach you. End of story.” His hand cooperated that time, turning the key and slipping the truck into gear, and as he pulled out of the mall parking lot, she slid over in the seat and leaned up against him. He felt like a teenager again, and it felt good.
They pulled up to the club and Jensen looked over at Shyanna, who’d been staring out the window, sulking, ever since he’d mentioned it. “Come on. Let’s go in.”
“I told you, I don’t dance.”
“Not even a slow dance with me? Just swaying back and forth on the dance floor?” he cajoled.
“I’d just trip over my own feet and embarrass us both,” she said with a huff.
“Oh, that’s just ridiculous. Come on.” He got out, then turned to see her still sitting in the truck, so he went to her door and opened it. “Sorry. Need to be more chivalrous.”
“Doesn’t matter. I’m not going in,” she said, refusing to look at him.