Chapter 22
CHAPTER
TWENTY-TWO
Bailey’s stomach gave a mighty growl just as Reeves came to a stop at the bottom of the canyon. He glanced over to her, sheer playfulness in his gaze. “Good thing we’re going to dinner.”
She grinned at him, glad when he reached across the console and slid his fingers between hers.
He wasn’t shy about it, and he fully seated his hand against hers before he squeezed, his grip firm, possessive, and somehow communicating to her how much he liked her.
He was definitely the more touchy-feely one between them, though he said about half as much as she did.
They’d driven to Jackson Hole that day and ridden the gondola up to the top of one of the highest peaks there.
They’d then hiked partway back down the mountain before taking another ski lift to the bottom.
They’d had a quick lunch at a drive-through in Jackson on their way to Jenny Lake, where they’d ridden a ferry across it and done the short half-mile hike to the waterfall.
But instead of riding the boat back, they’d taken the mostly flat trail around the lake.
Reeves ate every couple of hours—cashews, a protein bar, or beef jerky.
He wasn’t filming anything today, though he put out new content every Saturday, and he had done a spring overnight camping video, as well as the Swain’s Creek hike, where he talked about different types of plants and flowers coming to life in the Teton Mountain region.
She hadn’t seen his last couple of videos, including the one that had gone up this morning, because he didn’t like it when she watched the videos in front of him, and being with him in person was so much better.
He continued into Coral Canyon and pulled into a restaurant only a few blocks inside the city limits.
Bailey had scouted several on-the-fringe places, which she figured wouldn’t be too busy at four o’clock in the afternoon, where Reeves could start being out in public more without being downtown in the busiest steakhouse Coral Canyon had to offer.
She’d presented him with three options, and he’d chosen Wild Thyme, which sat only a few minutes from the hospital, in a cute blue cottage-type building that made Bailey smile this sunny Saturday afternoon.
“Have you eaten here before?” Reeves asked.
“Yeah,” she said. “It’s very….” She trailed off as she unbuckled her seatbelt and searched for the right word.
“Feminine,” Reeves provided.
Bailey looked over to him, and after a beat of silence, she giggled.
“Yeah, that’s a great way to describe it,” she said.
“I tried to choose places where women would congregate with their friends. And if there is a cowboy here with his date, he’s most likely trying to impress her and will only be focused on her. ”
Reeves kicked her that beautiful lopsided grin he possessed. “Is that what I’m doing?”
“You better be,” she teased, and then she opened her own door and dropped out of his truck.
He met her at the front hood, easily taking her hand in his again. He lifted it to his lips and placed a kiss right where her thumb connected to her arm.
“Thank you for choosing somewhere safe for me,” he murmured, and then he lifted his head and faced the restaurant, a fierce look in his eyes as if he might be staring down the barrel of a rifle.
Bailey giggled again and tugged on his hand. “Come on, cowboy,” she said. “You’re a tough mountain man who knows every plant growing out here, and what’s safe to touch, to eat, all of it. You can handle a soup, salad, and sandwich joint.”
He glanced at her and nodded, and they took the first step toward Wild Thyme together.
“Besides,” Bailey said. “They have an overflow area back behind the restrooms, and I figured we could eat back there. We probably won’t even see another person.”
“From your lips to God’s ears,” he said as they started down the aisle to the cash register, where they would order.
Bailey’s heart fell a little bit in her chest, and it beat out a staccato rhythm in an unpleasant way. “If you wanted to just go home and have dinner,” she said. “We could’ve done that.”
“It’s fine,” he said, but Bailey didn’t think it was. She pressed her lips together and then dug into her purse for her chapstick, all in an attempt to distract herself from insisting they leave and go back to his place.
“Really, Bay,” he whispered as he leaned his head closer to hers. He hooked one arm around her waist and settled his hand on her hip. “I’m just a little peopled out.”
She nodded, because there had been a lot of people enjoying the mountains and lakes in the Tetons that day. It had been windy as all get-out on the top of the mountain, and she felt dried out from head to toe.
When it was her turn to order, she ordered a big bottle of water and a fountain drink to go with her soup-and-salad combo.
Reeves got a sandwich and one of every dessert bar they had, as well as a cup of coffee.
After they’d paid and gotten their number, he picked up the tray and turned to survey the interior of the restaurant.
Bailey tried to see it through his eyes and found only a handful of people, none of them looking their way.
“The back room is over here,” Bailey said, and she led the way toward the front of the restaurant, and then across it.
She passed the tables in front of the windows on the side where no one sat and continued down a narrow hallway past the restrooms until a room opened up with five or six more tables in it.
It sat empty, and Bailey didn’t think they’d have anyone joining them.
Still, she went around to the side of the table that faced the hallway, leaving the chair for Reeves to sit in with his back to it. He picked everything up off the tray and set it on the table, then turned back toward the hallway.
“I can get your soda,” he said.
Bailey reached for the cup first. “I want to see what they have,” she said. “They have one of those machines where you can mix flavors.”
He smiled at her and led the way back down the hall. “I’ll get utensils and napkins and everything for my coffee.”
They re-emerged into the main part of the store together, Bailey’s focus on the fountain machine and silverware station nearby.
She started tapping on the electronic screen to learn her options, while Reeves picked up spoons, knives, and forks bundled together in napkins, and then huffed out his displeasure.
“They don’t have real cream,” he said.
“I bet you can ask for it.” She finally decided on a concoction of grape soda and lemonade, and had just tapped in the combo when a woman said, “Bailey, hey.”
She knew Joey’s voice instantly, because she’d known Joelle Young since she was a little girl. Her pulse ricocheted through her body as she turned toward the pale blonde young woman, who also held an empty soda cup and had a handsome, dark-haired man at her side.
“Hey, Joey,” Bailey said, her voice falsely bright.
Reeves glanced over to Bailey, something hooded in his expression. Joey looked at him, and then back to Bailey.
“You remember my husband, Adam Harmon?” Joey linked her arm through the man next to her, and they both beamed at her.
“Of course.” Bailey stepped forward and gave Joey a tight squeeze. “It’s so good to see you.”
“I didn’t get to talk to you at the wedding. It was very busy,” Joey said. “And I wasn’t feeling well.” She glanced at Adam, who likewise smiled as Bailey shook his hand.
“I’m not sure we’ve formally met,” he said.
“I don’t think so,” Bailey said. “I just moved back to town.”
“Of course, I know about you.” Adam gave a hearty chuckle. “OJ and Bryce both talk about you constantly.”
Bailey’s eyebrows shot up, and she noticed the way Joey’s arm in Adam’s tightened.
“Maybe OJ,” Joey said. “He talks about everyone, all the time.”
Adam seemed to pick up the hint, and of course he did, because he managed country music stars for a living, and before that had been the orchestrator of Harry Young’s massively successful career.
“Where are you guys sitting?” Joey asked. “Maybe we could squeeze in with you.”
There wasn’t anyone in the restaurant, so no squeezing would be strictly necessary. Bailey also didn’t want to share a table with them and racked her brain as to a reason why.
“I think they want to be alone,” Adam said quietly. “And we do too.”
Joey looked at him and smiled softly. “Right.” She looked back to Bailey. “We’re celebrating.”
“Oh?”
Joey’s cheeks took on a hint of pinkness. “Yeah, we’ve told the whole Young family, and video-called Adam’s parents, and we just told my mom and Grandma last night.” She beamed up at Adam, and he moved his arm to tuck her right against his side. “Adam and I are having a baby in September.”
A healthy amount of surprise cut through Bailey, and she wasn’t sure why.
Adam and Joey were doing what people did—they got married and had babies and built families.
She managed to put a smile on her face, and the clinical part of her that could remove her emotions from any situation kicked into gear.
“That’s fantastic, Joey.” She stepped in to the woman and hugged her again. “Congratulations.”
Reeves finally turned around, and both Adam and Joey looked at him.
“This is my boyfriend, Reeves,” Bailey said. “And we do kind of want to just be by ourselves. We got a table in the back room and everything.” She nodded in that direction, and Joey followed the gesture.
“I didn’t know this place had a back room.”
“We’re just getting our food to go,” Adam said. “I think we were going to drive somewhere and watch the sunset. Right, Roo?”
“Oh, right,” Joey said. “I totally forgot we were doing that. We can’t eat together anyway.”
“Maybe another time,” Bailey said out of kindness.
An excited look painted across Joey’s face, and she reached out and squeezed Bailey’s forearm. “It’s good to see you, Bailey. I’m so glad you moved back here.”
“I’ve got your food,” a woman said, holding up a tray with Reeves’s sandwich. “Where are you guys?”
“We’re in the back,” Reeves said, and that broke up what was sure to be an awkward parting. Bailey nodded at Adam and smiled at Joey again, and then she followed Reeves and the waitress carrying their food and headed toward the back room.
Silence settled over her and Reeves as they got situated at the table.
She picked up one of the wrapped straws he’d gotten and ripped off the paper top.
He doctored up his coffee. She unwrapped her silverware, each of them performing different parts of the same dance, neither of them looking at one another.
Finally, Reeves exhaled a long breath and looked directly at her. “She made you a little nervous.”
“A little bit,” Bailey admitted. “That’s OJ’s sister.”
“Ah.” Reeves nodded, stirred his coffee, and then lifted it to his lips. “He manages Country Quad.”
“He sure does.” Bailey smiled. “Do you know him?”
“I recognized him,” Reeves said. “I spend a lot of time on social media.”
She knew he did, and she wasn’t truly surprised that he’d recognized Adam.
“They didn’t seem to recognize you,” she said. “I don’t think either of them are the outdoorsy type.”
Reeves smiled at her. “They’re going to drive somewhere and probably sit in the front seat as they watch the sunset.”
Bailey grinned. “What a travesty,” she said dryly.
Reeves chuckled, and she was simply glad that the awkwardness between them had disappeared.
“I wasn’t sure if you were nervous because of who you were talking to,” Reeves said. “Or the topic.”
Bailey tilted her head and watched him for a moment before she stirred her fiesta dressing into her southwest salad. “The topic?”
“Yeah,” he said. “I definitely sensed something when Joey said she was pregnant.”
Bailey’s stomach tightened again because she’d forgotten how observant Reeves could be. “Yeah.”
“Do you not want any more kids, Bailey?”
“I don’t have any kids right now,” Bailey said. Their eyes met, and thunder and lightning moved through Bailey.
She’d never gotten to a point in a relationship where she was talking about kids with her boyfriend, and while she and Reeves had only been dating for about six weeks now, she couldn’t believe they’d made it to this conversation.
He reached across the table and curled his fingers around hers. “You can tell me anything. Remember?”
She swallowed, trying to get her thoughts to line up with her emotions, and then those to form themselves into words that would make a coherent sentence.
It took several long seconds, during which Reeves took another sip of his coffee and then a bite of his sandwich.
The silence between them now didn’t feel as charged, and Bailey appreciated that he gave her time to find the right thing to say.
“I don’t know if I’ll be a good mother,” Bailey said. A bolt of fear moved through her at the truthfulness of those words. “I’m not very nurturing.”
“Well, I don’t think that’s true,” Reeves said. “I’ve seen you care for your animals.”
“But that’s just it,” she said. “They’re not my animals. I bring them home for a few days, get them feeling better, and give them to someone else.” She leaned forward, her eyes darting past Reeves to the hallway, though no one came toward them.
“I gave another human being away,” she said, her voice quiet but urgent. “And that kind of thing changes a person. I think I’ve learned how to remove myself from relationships and friendships, so when it’s time to make an exit, I can do it easily.”
He simply blinked at her, no expression on his face that she could read.
“So I don’t know about being a mother,” she said. “Because you can’t walk away from that, and that scares me a little bit.”
She sat back. The truth was out now between them, and as Bailey replayed all the things she’d just said, she realized how terrible she sounded.
She desperately wanted Reeves to say something—anything—so that she wouldn’t have to hear herself say that she purposely kept everyone, from people to animals, at arm’s distance so she could walk away whenever she wanted.