Chapter Four
Three days without my wife. Three days of not knowing if she’ll ever come home.
I’m laying on the couch like a sad sack of shit without her. We make the younger guys do most of the night chores on weekends so I don’t even have work to distract me.
Instead I’m laying here, staring at my phone, hoping someone wants to go to the bar with me. Because I am the man child she says I am and won’t go to the bar my wife owns alone.
Murray: I’m in. Talkin’ to Henry quick, but I’ll come by and grab you?
Me: Yup. I’m here.
Speaking of Henry, I forgot to text Sanders.
Me: Hey man. How are you holding up?
Sanders: Shitty. It fucking sucks.
Me: Yeah. It does suck. He’s as good as they come and the guys are all upset.
Sanders: I wish I could get out there, but break is almost here and I’ll come as soon as I can. I want to talk to you and Gran about the future of the ranch.
Me: No rush, man. Y’all need to grieve it first.
Sanders: Speaking of grieving- I only have a minute left before the game, but I heard about Juliette. I’m sorry you’re going through all this shit at the same time.
Me: My own fault, but I swear I’m going to make it better.
Sanders: You better. Don’t fumble a girl like her.
A knock on my door saves me from answering Sanders.
“Come in,” I yell out.
Murray walks into the living room where I’m still laying on the couch.
“Dude. Is this what we’ve come to? Laying on the couch texting like a teenage girl?”
“Shut up. I was talking to Sanders.” I sit up to avoid any more shit from him.
“Did he say anything about the future of the ranch?” Concern is all over Murray’s face. It’s the same look I’ve gotten from all the ranch hands as they talk to Henry.
“He just said when they get their break he’s comin’ out here to talk to me and Gretta. Sorry, I won’t have any answers for you guys any time soon.”
“None of us are in a rush. We trust y’all. It would just be nice to quiet their minds.” He looks around the house. “It sure is quiet around here without her.”
“Fuckin’ tell me about it.” I slip my nice boots on and stand to leave. “Let’s go drink some beers.”
I might be wearing Juliette’s favorite pair of dark wash Wranglers, with her favorite black button up, sleeves rolled to my elbows. I haven’t worn it for her in awhile, but she never could resist me in this get up.
“I can’t tell if I’m comin’ to be your wingman for Juliette or pickin’ up someone else to piss her off.”
“Always for Juliette. There’s no one else that will ever compare to her.”
“Does she know that?” He raises his brow at me.
“She’s going to.”
I’m going to make real fucking sure of it.
When we walk in I see her behind the bar chatting with a group of guys. My anger is immediately elevated, but I’m here to win her back. So I’m going to behave, take my seat, order from the waitress, and keep my eye on my wife.
“You want to sit at the bar or…”
“No. Pick a table. Some of the other guys will show up tonight I’m sure. I’m going to try and give her space, but still show that I’m here for her, showing up.”
We pick a table off to the side, near the small stage she had me build last year for live music. She spots me when I walk by the bar and watches me, her eyes raking over my body before she shakes her head and goes back to her customer.
It gives my ego a boost knowing that she couldn’t stop herself from watching me walk by. Sitting down, I choose the seat that has the best vantage point of the rest of the bar, and her.
I wink at her as her eyes meet mine. She doesn’t return the wink but turns away and sends Dakota over to take our order.
I don’t miss Dakota’s eye roll. Apparently she has chosen sides. I don’t blame her for choosing her boss.
“Murray, so good to see you. Can’t say the same about your company,” she greets us, or him anyway.
“Hey, beautiful.” He turns on the smile that makes any other girl drop their panties, except the one he so clearly wants.
“What can I get you, cowboy?”
“I’m kind of hoping you’ll give my boy here a break. Look at him.” He gestures toward me. “He got all dressed up…” He leans into her, whispering, “and between you and me I found him crying on the couch, looking at photos of Juliette like some love sick, broken hearted teenager.”
She looks at me, really taking in my appearance. “He does look pretty pathetic. Guess I can bring you two beers.”
As soon as she’s out of earshot, he looks at me. “She’s warming up to me, don’t ya think?”
I chuckle. “If you say so.”
A few of the other ranch hands joined us at the bar tonight, but I haven’t taken my eyes off Juliette.
The group of guys from the bar has dwindled down to one asshole.
One very handsy asshole. With every subtle touch from him, I downed another beer.
It fucking kills me to see another man touching her, and even though she’s shrugging him off politely, she isn’t wearing her wedding rings to ward them off entirely.
And fuck if that doesn’t hurt.
He reaches out again, dropping his hand on her hip as she walks by to deliver drinks.
She swivels her hips to get out of his reach, but it doesn’t stop me from downing the last half of my drink.
She catches my eye quickly, but doesn’t hold my gaze.
I’ve been with this woman since she was thirteen years old and I know every look, and every move she has.
She is very uncomfortable with this guy.
“I need another, anyone else?” I ask the table.
“You sure, brother? You’ve had more than a few already.” Murray eyes me, judging me as I stand up from the chair.
I’ll admit, I’m swaying a little more than usual, but it’s just because I haven’t stood up since we got here.
“I’m fine. Last chance, any takers?” A couple of the younger guys raise their hands and I tally up how many beers I need to buy.
Staggering off to the bar, I find a spot near the asshole with the audacity to touch my wife. Probably not my wisest choice.
By some miracle, Juliette is the only one behind the bar to take my order.
“Hey, beautiful.”
“Hey, Cal. What can I get you?”
“That’s it?”
“I’m busy as fuck. What can I get you?” Her hands go to her hips, and I notice I’m not getting the polite reaction that the other handsy asshole is getting.
“I need four.” I hold up four fingers. Maybe.
“You sure about that? One of those for you? Don’t you think you should lay off the beers for tonight?”
“Nope.” I pop the P. “Murray drove.” I flash her my charming grin.
“Whatever. You’re not my problem tonight.” She turns to the cooler, pulling out four beers and popping the tops off.
After handing me the bottles, she moves down the bar back to that guy who orders a couple of shots.
When she hands him the shots, he grabs her arm, pulling her down to him where he boldly reaches out to cop a feel as he whispers in her ear.
I don’t even think about what I’m doing. I drop the beers and lunge over the few chairs in between us. Knocking him to the ground I sit on his chest and pull my hand back, punching him square in the face.
Blood flows from his nose and he’s wrestling with me to get up, but I have a solid fifty pounds and six inches on him. He’s not going anywhere. I pull back, ready to make my second blow. But, I’m stopped when a hand grips around my wrist.
“He’s not fucking worth it, dude.” Murray’s voice breaks through. Then Juliette’s face appears in front of mine.
“Let’s go you fucking, hothead.” She grips me by the collar of my shirt and pulls me off him, toward her office.
God, she’s so fucking sexy when she’s mad.
She throws the door open, pushing me in. I stumble a bit, but catch my balance when I land on the makeshift bed-slash-couch.
“Mmm I knew you couldn’t resist this outfit. It’s your favorite.” I grin up at her with a sloppy smile as she spins in my vision.
“Oh my God! Is that what you think I’m doing?” She hits my shoulder. “You just punched a customer in my bar! There’s blood on my floor!”
Well, shit. When she puts it that way. I look down at my hand, splotches of blood cover my knuckles, and they’re already swelling. At least I think they’re swelling. I blink my eyes a few times trying to get them to focus.
“Are you fucking serious right now, Cal?” She stands staring down at me with her hands on her hips. “You think this is the way to show me that you love me? Getting drunker than a skunk and punching a guy?”
“He touched your boobs and eye fucked the shit out of you all damn night! What was I supposed to do? Let him?”
“I’m not yours, Cal. Remember? I left you!”
She’s so fucking sexy, even when she’s yelling at me.
I stand, making the small space seem smaller.
She’s so close and smells so good, I pull her flush against me, slamming my mouth down on hers.
She stiffens, but I run my tongue along the seam of her lips.
She opens for me, the minty taste on her tongue mixing with the bitter taste of the beer on mine.
Running my hand down her ass cheek, I pull her up to me, bringing both of us down on the bed so she’s straddling me.
But all of a sudden she pushes off me, jumping across the room.
“You need to leave. Now.” She points to the door. “Find Murray and go home.”
“I don’t want to go home without you, Jules.” I invade her space again, attempting to pull her to me once again. Only this time she stands unmoving.
“You probably should have thought about that a hundred times over the last few months.” She walks over, opening the door. “Go. Please.”
Tucking my tail, I follow her orders and walk out into the hallway straight into Murray. I fucking hate this. I want my wife, and it rips me apart that I’ve let things get here. My resolve to fix things is building stronger each second that I sober.
He looks at me, taking me in. “I knew this was a bad idea.”
“I gotta go home.” I stalk past him and right out the front door.
I really fucked up tonight. I had such high hopes and then I had to go and get fucking drunk. Setting myself twenty steps back with Juliette. I never even got one step ahead.