Chapter 10
ten
Cameron
No, Rosalie, I don’t think you have everything you need.
That line has been rolling around in my head all day, and I wince every time it comes to the forefront of my mind. Did I actually fucking say that to a woman? Yes, it seems I did, and although it felt like a smooth move in the moment, I’m now regretting my choice.
Mulling over all that’s transpired as I walk toward Bluegrass Brewery and Pub to meet Beckett, I come up with alternate responses that would have both saved my pride and given me a better chance of Rosalie actually calling.
I’m so immersed in my imaginary conversations I’m startled to a stop when my phone vibrates in my pocket.
Pulling it out, I see a picture of Beckett with his goldendoodle, Daisy, standing near a creek bed.
I recognize it as the photo I took of them last time we all went on a hike, and I smile.
I shake my head and my smile deepens as I take in the name scrolling across the top of my screen, Best BIL Ever.
Clearly, Beckett has been fucking with my phone again.
I swear that asshole has the stealthiest hands in the world, as he should, since he’s a general surgeon at the hospital in our hometown of Carlsburg. I know he doesn’t have my password, but somehow, he manages to grab my phone when I’m not looking and do stupid shit like this all the time.
The last time, he changed my profile photo to a picture of me passed out on the couch one Christmas Eve after he and Addison had seen how many bows they could stick to my head before I woke up.
I didn’t realize it was my photo until I sent my contact number to a prospective client, who sent me a screenshot asking if I had made a mistake and sent them the wrong contact.
I swipe to answer. “Hey, man! When did you mess with my phone and what the hell is BIL?”
He emits a loud rumble of laughter. “Dude, it means brother-in-law. I’m your best brother-in-law ever.”
“You’re my only brother-in-law, you dick. And thank God for that because I’m not sure what I would have done if Julianne had more brothers like you.”
“Obviously, you’d be damn lucky,” he says with all the confidence in the world. “So, hey, I’m running a few minutes late. I sent you a text, but you didn’t respond.”
I glance down at the screen and see I missed a couple of texts from Beck and one from the babysitter asking if Addison can have ice cream after dinner. Damn, I must have really been in my head on the way over here.
Putting my phone back up to my ear, I apologize. “Sorry, man, not sure how I missed that.” Obviously, I do, but I’m not willing to get into it with Beck now.
“No worries, mind grabbing a table? I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
“Sure, see you in a bit.”
We both hang up, and I shoot a text to the babysitter confirming Addie can have ice cream after dinner before stepping into Bluegrass Brewery and Pub. As expected for a Saturday night, it’s busy and I have to weave my way through a few larger groups of people before I get to the hostess.
“A table for two,” I say, hopeful the wait won’t be too long.
“It must be your night,” the hostess replies, “we had one just open up.”
Following her past the bar and back to the booth, I choose the side that faces the entrance so I can flag down Beck when he gets here and people watch, because it never gets old.
Looking around, I’m still astounded by the amount of Kentucky memorabilia that decorates the walls.
It’s heavily horse-focused with large renderings of the Churchill Downs and Keeneland racetracks adorning the walls, surrounded by what must be pictures of every Kentucky Derby winner since the beginning of time.
The framed photos of so many horses bring my thoughts back to Rosalie.
She’s been consuming my thoughts since I saw her at the Equine Center with Elodie, and I was sure I must have been hearing things when I recognized her sultry voice in the hardware store this morning.
I couldn’t help but eavesdrop for a bit to see why she was there and had to chuckle to myself when I heard Paige declare Bart rhymed with fart.
I knew Bart would roll with it since he’s a grandfather of five. But I also know the complete and utter embarrassment you feel as a parent when your child decides to blurt out whatever unhinged thought pops into their head.
Addison has done that to me plenty of times, so I felt Rosalie’s mortification like it was my own.
I start to replay our interaction in the aisle, minus my epic flirtation failure, and can’t help but fixate on the way her jaw dropped at the sight of me, the way her cheeks flushed when I stepped closer, or the way my skin ignited when our fingers touched.
I drop my head against the back of the booth, closing my eyes and letting out a quiet groan, hoping I didn’t fuck this up.
The table shakes, and my head snaps up to find Beckett sliding into the other side of the booth. His tall, broad frame looks clumsy as he scoots across the bench seat, and it makes me grin.
“Damn, this place is busy,” he says, letting out a breath that seems to release the weight of the world while taking off his baseball hat and shaking out his nearly black hair.
“You okay over there?” I ask, knowing he’s not going to answer with any depth.
Beckett’s a man of few words these days when it comes to his feelings, even with me, but I can tell beneath the carefree, playboy facade he’s got some things going on.
I just wish he’d share them with me willingly rather than making me pry them out of him.
“Yeah, man, of course. How’s it going with you?”
Okay, deflection it is.
I let him get away with it this time because I have some things I really need to talk to him about, namely Rosalie, but I hesitate.
Beck’s been my best friend for over a decade, but he’s also my late wife Julianne’s brother.
I would never want to hurt him, make him uncomfortable, or make him feel like I’m dishonoring his sister’s memory by moving on too quickly.
I’ve only started casually dating again in the past year, and anytime I come to him for advice, he always assures me it’s what Julianne would want for me. And for Addison, too.
So, I go for it.
“Man.” I shake my head. “I think I’ve lost my game.”
Beck bursts out laughing, barely able to get out his response to my claim.
“All right, I’ll bite. I mean, I’m probably not going to argue, seeing as your dating life has been essentially nonexistent over the past few years, and as the saying goes, if you don’t use it, you lose it.”
I roll my eyes. “Great. I can already tell you’re going to be a shit ton of help.”
“Please, do go on. I can’t wait to hear about your first encounter with a woman,” he says, arm sweeping out as if to give me the floor.
“Oh, fuck off!” I say, both irritated and amused.
His laughter subsides and his smile softens in understanding. “All right, I’m done, tell me what’s up.”
So, I do. I tell him about helping Rosalie on the side of the road and how I slipped her my phone number on the back of the receipt.
I fill him in about running into her at the Equine Center, leaving out the part about her working with Elodie, and seeing her at the hardware store this morning.
I trail off after relaying my parting words to her before I left the store and wait for his reaction.
He’s silent for a bit before he lets out a chuckle. It’s not the loud boisterous laughter I expected him to have at my expense, it’s softer with a hint of astonishment.
“You know…it could have been worse.”
“Really?” I say hopefully.
“Sure.” he says. “Your pants could have fallen when you reached for the roller, you could have fallen on your face as you were leaving the store, you could have—”
“Seriously! Fuck off, man. I don’t need a list! I need some advice and all you’ve done is give me shit,” I cut him off. Apparently, I mistook his understated chuckle for understanding when, really, he was winding up to be typical Beck.
“Okay, okay. You want my real advice?” he asks with a placating gesture.
“No, I one hundred percent asked so I could feel like an even bigger douche than I already do.”
He laughs at that and then proceeds. “I don’t think it’s as bad as you’re making it out to be. Women love confident men. At least now she knows you’re still interested.”
Sometimes I want to wring Beckett’s neck, but he does make a solid point. If one good thing came from this morning, it’s that Rosalie knows I live here, and if she wants to get to know me better, like I’m hoping she does, I’m only one phone call away.
I exhale and concede this conversation wasn’t a total waste of my time. “Okay, that makes sense, and I feel slightly better. Thanks, man.”
“No problem. You know you can always come to me for professional advice with the ladies.”
Beckett is single, and a complete serial dater, so his statement makes me laugh so hard I momentarily stun the waitress who just walked up to the table to take our order.
Eyes wide, she almost whispers, “Um, what can I get you two?”
Beckett snickers at my obvious embarrassment, and I not-so-subtly flip him the bird by scratching my forehead with my middle finger before turning to the waitress and ordering our drinks and a couple baskets of wings.
Once she walks away, I shake my head and look across the table at my best friend.
“You know you’re basically the biggest jackass I know, right? ”
“Yeah, but unfortunately, you’re stuck with me,” he says with a smug grin.
“It could be worse, I guess,” I joke back.
But he’s right. We’ve been through a hell of a lot together, and there’s no one I’d rather call my best friend than Beckett. I know he only wants what’s best for me today, tomorrow, and in the future, and I appreciate him more than he’ll ever know for every moment he’s stuck by my side.