Chapter Nine – Chances Are
Chapter Nine
Maisey
CHANCES ARE
Performed by Lee Ann Womack
THREE YEARS AGO
HIM: You looked pretty darn cute when I left, passed out in your bed.
An hour later.
HIM: Are you not talking to me?
HER: I’m not sure what to say. I’m embarrassed. I don’t even remember you putting me to bed.
HIM: Nothing to be embarrassed about. We’ve all been there.
Another hour went by.
HIM: Maise, seriously. We’ve all gotten drunk and done stupid shit.
HER: Wait. Was there more? What exactly did I do? And there’s no video evidence, is there?
HIM: So I take it you want me to delete the video of you singing ‘You Give Love A Bad Name’?
HER: I did NOT sing.
HIM: Are you sure? Are you really, really sure? How much would you wager on it?
HER: If I did sing, which I seriously doubt, it was an alcohol-induced mistake. Let’s just forget it ever happened.
A few minutes passed.
HER: Beckett. I’m serious… Delete and forget. I’m begging you.
HIM: Forget what? What am I forgetting? My mind is a blank.
HER: Dork.
HIM: Nerd.
PRESENT DAY
With Beckett this close, with his hand wrapped in my hair, making me want things I knew better than to want, it was hard to banish the old teenage dream of Beckett finally realizing he couldn’t live without me and getting down on a bended knee to ask me to be his forever.
But I’d learned the hard way that this ugly duckling was never going to be a swan. I wasn’t the princess that the prince searched the kingdom for so he could keep her.
Even now, what Beckett was proposing wasn’t because he actually wanted me—Maisey.
I’d just sworn to myself this morning I’d handle the disaster with Dad on my own.
But for the first time in almost as long as I could remember, Beckett wasn’t just offering to help me.
He was asking for help in return. After years of not knowing how to pay him back, I had an opportunity to do something.
With Fallon, it was different. The financial scales might forever be tipped in her direction, but emotionally, I’d been there for her when some pretty horrific things had hit her life.
Beckett, on the other hand, had needed very little from me because he’d had a fully functioning father who’d given him the shoulder he’d needed.
What Beckett was asking of me now was a simple thing that would have a huge impact on his future. I couldn’t remember another time when he’d needed something this big and asked me to help him.
How could I say no?
But would I survive this particular request?
Because if we did this, it wasn’t going to end in a happily ever after like in my romance books.
Beckett believed love always failed and used every broken relationship he came across as evidence.
He had no desire to challenge his hypothesis by seeking out success stories.
Even if, by some miracle, he changed his mind about love and marriage, he wouldn’t want it with me.
I was his friend. The sidekick. The anti-princess.
“You hate the idea so much you can’t even consider it?” Beckett asked, and when I looked up, the plea in his eyes was nearly my undoing.
My pulse pounded so hard and so loud I was certain he could hear it. My heart and my conscience were warring with each other.
I could barely keep my barriers up with him now.
I barely kept our friendship at the level it was destined to remain without ruining it with my desire for more.
What would living in his house, completely surrounded by him, brushing up against him in the kitchen, flirting with him as we passed in the hall, do to me?
The plea in his eyes vanished, only to be replaced with a twinkle, and I realized I was in even more trouble. I couldn’t resist his dimple on top of everything else.
“You afraid, my Maisey-girl?” he teased. “Afraid you won’t be able to keep your hands off?”
I forced back the panic, looked pointedly at his fingers still wrapped in my hair, and tossed back, “If anyone can’t keep their hands off, it’s clearly you.”
He let go, holding his hands up as he stepped back with a grin.
“Hands off from here on out.”
I rolled my eyes, and he chuckled.
“You don’t believe I can keep my hands to myself?” he taunted. “How about every time I touch you, I read one of your romance books, and every time you touch me, you owe me a meal?”
I frowned at him. “That sounds dangerously like a bet.”
His smile grew impossibly wider, and I was a goner. “Not a bet. Not even a dare. Just two people promising we’ll be on our best behavior with a penalty clause in place. I’ll even keep the temptation down to a minimum—I promise not to walk around in my boxer briefs.”
Just the thought hit me low and hard in my core, proving just how stupid it was to even consider the idea. I was proud when my voice sounded steady when I replied, “I need some time to think about it.”
“Fair enough. But you know how Delilah works, and I can almost guarantee the news has already spread through town.”
“You should have thought of that before you lied without consulting me first,” I bit back. “Besides, no one is going to believe we’re in love. I doubt Nattingly or the city council members are going to buy this engagement thing, even if you tell them you proposed.”
Beckett frowned. “What’s love got to do with it?”
My heart ached, this time for Beckett. For the damage his mother and Liza had done long before Delilah had pounded the last nail in the coffin.
Before I could respond, the radio on his chest squawked. Smoke had been spotted outside town. Beckett was already sprinting toward the captain’s rig he’d driven to the hospital as he tossed back, “We’ll finish the conversation later.”
“Please be careful!” I yelled.
“Always,” he promised before disappearing into the truck, hitting the lights, and tearing out of the lot.
While I wouldn’t ever say I was grateful for a fire, I was grateful for the distraction. If Beckett had stayed any longer, he would have pushed, and I would have agreed without really weighing all the pros and cons.
Could I live with the real cost of this arrangement?
To my pride, in letting my friend dig me out of a hole once again?
To my heart and soul, who were already halfway in love with my friend?
Would those costs be worth the chance to pay Beckett back for all he’d already done for me?
Or would it eat away the last pieces of me so there was nothing left?
? ? ?
I’d just sunk back into Titan’s saddle, after executing a three-hundred-and-sixty-degree pirouette with my lasso in the air, when Fallon’s voice rang out from the fence.
“Is there something you forgot to tell me, your supposed best friend?”
The dust our practice had stirred up mingled with sunshine as it crested over the hills as I led Titan over to the fence.
Fallon climbed up onto the rail, ready for her day at the ranch in worn jeans, a sleeveless plaid button-down, a beat-up cowboy hat, and boots that had seen the better side of a decade.
Titan whinnied a greeting at her, and Fallon slid a hand over my horse’s muzzle before shooting me a glare.
“Unless I did something in my sleep last night after you saw me at the hospital, I’m not sure I know what you mean.”
She’d come by briefly to see Dad and me, but an emergency at the ranch with the upcoming Fourth of July festivities had drawn her away before I could even think of telling her about the rest of my day. And that was when understanding hit me.
My stomach fell just as she exclaimed, “You’re engaged to Beckett!”
“Fallon—”
“You didn’t even tell me you were dating. Neither of you even hinted at it the other night at Frank’s. If anyone can understand how enormous it feels to finally get the one person you’ve always wanted to be yours, it’s me. So why wouldn’t you tell me?” she demanded.
Fallon had loved Parker from the time she was a kid, but a promise he’d made to their fathers had prevented him from starting anything with her. It wasn’t until her life had been threatened that he’d finally realized what he had to lose. Once he’d woken up, he’d claimed her as his and never let go.
But the happily ever after Fallon had found wasn’t ever going to be mine.
“It’s not like that,” I told her softly.
“When Andie was at the Emporium last night, that’s all anyone was talking about.”
Well, hell, Delilah really had worked quickly.
My mouth went dry as panic tried to take over. Not because I was the center of a Swift Rivers rumor, but because of what it meant. I was stuck. The decision had been taken out of my hands. No way would I humiliate Beckett by denying what he’d told her.
But what Beckett hadn’t realized yet was, to convince the city council our engagement was genuine, we would have to act like an actual couple.
He’d teased about not touching, promised we’d keep our hands off, but exactly how would that work in public?
How would we convince everyone we had real feelings for each other and keep our distance?
All the questions and worries that had kept me awake last night slammed back into me. I’d been trying to keep my feelings for Beckett at bay for so long that just the thought of pretending to be in love was enough to make me hyperventilate.
Knowing Fallon was the one person I could count on to keep my secret, I whispered, “It’s not real.”
“What isn’t? Do you mean he didn’t ask you? Or you said no? Or the rumor is false?” she demanded.
I inhaled deeply and then spilled everything that had gone down yesterday. When I was finished, she was quiet for a long time, looking out beyond the corral to the river rushing down to the lake sparkling in the sunrise.
Finally, she let out a long breath and said, “I don’t want you to get hurt.”
Just knowing that was her first thought made tears well. She wasn’t saying anything I didn’t already know. This was a bad idea. But if I was honest, the vicious bitch called Hope had wiggled inside my heart last night, whispering things I knew better than to allow.