Chapter Thirty-Eight
August–one year later
The Sulphur Creek Café looked like a saloon straight from the 1800s, and they had a bomb-ass rodeo burger with honey bourbon BBQ sauce and onion rings. I treated myself to it every Friday night after work. It was a ritual at this point. I hadn’t made many friends in Wyoming, but I was living a quiet, honest life.
When I’d applied for a job at Cedar Mountain Auto Service, they hadn’t brought up my record. I guessed a small town in butt-fuck nowhere couldn’t be too choosey when it came to a mechanic with a past in grand theft auto.
It was the Wild, Wild West.
No one knew I was a felon.
No one knew I had killed a cop.
No one knew I was an orphan.
No one knew who I had or hadn’t slept with.
Truth be told, I hadn’t even looked twice at a woman since Maisie. Sure, some of the women who dropped off their cars wrote their numbers on the bottoms of their receipts when they signed, but I couldn’t even bring myself to think about dating.
It was either work, working out, or working on myself. I had wasted too much of my life on cheap thrills. I tried to really slow it all down and take in the new scenery and way of life. The sunsets here were incredible. I’d hike after work and sit and watch them with too many thoughts in my head that I’d pour out in a notebook. I told myself no one had to read it, and that really gave me the freedom to dump out all my secrets.
Through word of mouth, I ended up helping some farmers and ranchers with fixing their equipment. Tractors are surprisingly finnicky. One of the guys, Mr. Felton, had a bunch of horses. I’d hang around in the stables after fixing stuff for him, just observing them. He taught me the basics on how to brush and ride, and we had a standing agreement that after my work was done, I’d get to ride a horse. After spending some time with the majestic creatures, I completely understood why people claimed they healed a part of you.
I thought about adopting a dog but felt bad knowing it would be stuck at home alone all day. I thought about adopting a cat, then realized I didn’t want to deal with the whole litter box situation. A fish somehow seemed sadder than just being alone, so I got a houseplant instead. I watered it every Sunday after I finished meal-prepping for the week. So far, so good.
I didn’t have much in regard to possessions. I’d sold the cottage to Rosie’s mom, who’d moved to Pine Bluff to be closer to her grandchildren. Lennie hadn’t wanted to take over the shop, so I’d given him a chunk of money and told him to get his hippie ass back on the road again. I’d sold the building to the fire department. They’d needed a second station with bays and housing upstairs, so it’d worked out. It’d left people in Pine Bluff without a mechanic, which made me feel a little guilty. Harley got my dad’s toolchests. I cried a little when I had to finally sweep away the cobwebs to move them because it was basically erasing one of the last physical reminders of my father.
The next hardest thing to sell had been the bike. I’d known I had to. It had reminded me of Maisie, our love story embedded in leather and steel. While I was glad it had helped us get away from Boyd, I’d known my dad’s GTO was rarer than some Bonneville Triumph, so it had been a decision I’d had to make.
Now I lived in some sad apartment because I wasn’t ready to commit to buying a house until I found exactly where I wanted to be. I didn’t even have a garage to tinker in, which honestly was driving me a little crazy.
My phone buzzed in front of me on the table.
It was a video of Harley’s boat motor. I’d given him a couple ideas on how to fix it over a video call a couple days ago.
Harley: I got this POS to work for now. Thanks again.
Me: No problem.
Harley: Are you enjoying your Friday night burger?
Me: You know it.
The server hadn’t brought it to me yet, so I just snapped a photo of a bison bust on the wall to send him. I was tucked away at a small booth, facing the swinging saloon doors that led to a modern lobby entrance. It was my usual spot. I’d hardly been ever alone in Pine Bluff, so when I’d moved, I’d challenged myself to enjoy my own company. I’d forced myself to go out to eat alone. To movies. To rodeos. It had been awkward at first, but then I’d realized no one cared. Everyone was too busy thinking about their own experience.
I zoned out waiting for my food. Footsteps rippled the golden light peeking through the cracks around the creaky saloon doors before they swung open. Cowgirl boots strutted the hardware floor, with tanned legs disappearing under a white, fluttery, floral sundress. A golden sun pendant glimmered on her delicate neck.
I stood up as she made her way to me. Her hair was my favorite shade of pink, and her eyes searched my face in wonder before her lips tilted up as she made her declaration.
“I’m hellbent on loving you.”
The air caught in my lungs as I held her face, unsure if I was hallucinating or dreaming. She smiled up at me, lovingly touching my arms.
“Hi,” was all I could manage. It was barely a breath of a word. Thoughts swirled in my head too quickly, and the rest of the world faded out. All I could fathom was that Maisie Quinn was in front of me.
“Hi, handsome.”
I crushed her to me in a bear hug, lifting her so her feet dangled as I wrapped her in as close as possible. I breathed her in, the same sugary sweetness I remembered so well returning.
“I missed you so damn much,” she whispered, her subtle Southern drawl making me melt even more.
I broke the hug, setting her down. I needed to stare at her a little longer.
My palms got sweaty, and I could feel my heart slamming against my ribs. “How did you—Did you come here for—” I stuttered.
“Harley told me you’d be here. Can I join you?” she asked, pointing to the table.
We each took our respected seats on either side of the booth that had high, rustic wooden walls with lanterns. We sheepishly smiled at each other when we realized there was too much space between us, and it was a little awkward.
I beckoned her over to me. “Get your little ass over here,” I said playfully through gritted teeth.
She settled next to me, turning toward me in the booth, her back to the rest of the world. That simple gesture showed she still trusted me. She knew I’d always have her back. That thought alone made me feel like a swoony idiot.
As the shock wore off, my doubts crept in. Maisie had left me several times over. How could this time be any different?
“I know what you’re thinking,” she said. “How are things different? How could you possibly trust me with your heart now? I get it. I’m not asking you to force anything. I’m asking for you to hear me out on what I’ve changed in my own life so I can show up and love you like you deserve.”
She took a breath and rolled her shoulders back. I could tell she had rehearsed that or something. It was kinda cute, really.
“I’m all ears.”
“For starters, I’m sorry for running away from you when you told me you loved me. I’m sorry I never wanted to talk about the hard stuff with you. I know it’s not an excuse, but no one had ever done that with me. My mom basically ignored me and was emotionally immature. Conner was the same way. I picked the pattern because it was familiar.”
She rested her hand on one of my pecs. It heated my heart.
“But you were different. You always tried to talk about the difficult stuff, and I’d shut you out. I’m so sorry. I’m committed to not shying away from those kinds of discussions anymore.”
“It was hard because we got off on the wrong foot.”
She pulled back her hand, using her other arm to lean against the table, turning toward me even farther, creating more of a bubble around us.
“Right, but I could’ve met you halfway. I’ve had to learn reconciliation. In my family, no one ever outright said they were sorry about things. My grandpa would take me to Build-a-Bear when he hurt my feelings. My mom would offer to crimp my hair and let me wear makeup if she needed to mend things. I learned just to brush things under the rug. You made me realize I had to learn how to apologize.”
“So far, so good.”
She chuckled at that.
The server came, interrupting us. I couldn’t stop staring at her as she ordered the same burger as I had with a Coke.
“I thought you liked Diet Coke? It was like your crack.”
“Riots not diets!” she whisper-screamed before slipping back into a reflective smile. “In all seriousness, my mom always forced me to drink Diet Coke to ‘watch my figure,’ but I’ve decided to not partake in diet culture, so I stick to the real thing now.”
“Wow, you have changed!” I joked, earning a playful swat on the arm from her.
She went on, fiddling with the edges of her napkin. “On my drive back to Texas, I came to the conclusion I wasn’t choosing you, and it’s because I wasn’t choosing myself. So I did. I’m going to therapy for emotional neglect and my mother wound. And to process the assault. That’s been really hard but worth it. I also did one of those DNA tests and found my father.” Her face pulled into one of the biggest grins I’d seen. “His name is Miguel Alesandro Cortez. And he’s honestly one of the nicest humans I’ve ever met.”
“That’s fantastic! I’m so glad.” I wanted to touch her but fought it. “Was he searching for you, too?”
“He had no clue I existed. My friend Dom and I visited him in Mexico. I look so much like him and my aunts, it’s not even funny. I’m learning all about my Mexican heritage now. It’s opened up this whole new side of my story I was too scared to look at.”
“Did he ever marry or have other kids?”
“Yes. After the initial shock wore off, his wife was really understanding about it. He has two sons who are a couple years younger than me.”
“So you have brothers. I mean, you already kinda had a sister with Kaylee, but brothers are new.”
“Yeah, they’re nice, but I can’t tell if they’ve really warmed up to me.” She shrugged. “I get it. It’ll take time.”
She said a quick thanks to the server who brought over her Coke. She speared the ice with the straw and swirled it around in the cup. “What’s funny is right after the one-night stand with my mom, he met his wife. He’s absolutely crazy about her. It’s like she hung the moon. My mom would have had zero chance pulling him from her.”
“So she spent her whole life pining over some mystery man who would’ve never been interested in a second chance?”
“Yep! I don’t plan on ever speaking to her again, but if I have to, I’m going to throw it in her face.” She snorted and sipped her soda.
“As you should. So what else is new? Did you sell Pretty Kitty?”
“Yeah. They’ve already opened two more. I took the money and rolled it into some new investments, like a carwash and a booth at the huge state fair in Dallas that specializes in deep fried food.”
“Deep fried food?” I asked incredulously.
“Yeah, ridiculous things like Snickers and birthday cake.”
“Are you for real?”
“I’m pretty sure you could deep fry a shoe and someone would eat it. Did you close down your auto shop?”
“Yeah. Sold the cottage, too.”
“Did you just need a fresh start after everything that happened?”
All I could do was nod.
“That makes sense,” she said. “Are you glad you did it?”
“For the most part.”
“Would you ever want to work somewhere else?”
“Like?”
“Well, I’m currently working on a passion project.” She rolled her eyes, playing with her straw. “It’s this wacky idea. I got it from some goof once.”
“Oh yeah?” I asked, already amused. I knew where this was going.
She pursed her lips to sober, committing to the bit. “Have you ever needed to get an oil change, but you’d really love a big, juicy burger while you wait?”
As if orchestrated by the universe, our server slid our burgers across the table.
I grinned down at my plate. “I feel like that’s a niche need that should be tapped into.”
“Me too. So I’m opening this place called—”
“Fill’er up,” I interrupted, holding up my burger.
“Yep!” She beamed. “It’s still in the beginning stages. I wanted your input on the build and whatnot. But I really don’t want to hire another mechanic. I want it to be you. This is your brainchild. Plus, you’d have space to rebuild classic cars when you want. Regardless of if you want to be a part of it or not, I’ll give you a cut.”
“You want me to move to Texas and work for you as a mechanic?”
“If you want. And you’d be co-owner, of course.”
“So you’re gonna be my sugar mama?”
“Well, you did kill a man for me,” she joked under her breath.
I all but choked on my food. God, I’d missed her.
Wiping my mouth with my napkin, I mumbled, “I’m going to hell for laughing at that.”
Her eyes searched my face for an answer to the original question.
“You already know my answer, tornado.”
“Really?” Her pink eyebrows raised, then she drew them together on second thought. “Wait, what is it?”
“Yes. My answer is yes.”
She picked up a fry, offering it to me since I’d ordered onion rings. “You sure?”
“Yes. I spent the better part of the last year and a half wondering how I could come back to you.”
“You said you’d never know if I loved you for you, not because of what you did to protect me. I want you to know that you protected me because you loved me. I know that. I always knew that. It’s not like I’m indebted to you. I’m simply in love with you, Dane.”
“I think I was just horrified that I did that without thinking. It scares me how much I love you.” I lowered my tone, putting a hand on her thigh. “I killed for you, Maisie. But what scares me is I’d do it again in a heartbeat. I’d do anything to protect you.”
Her eyes went all doe-like.
I kept going. “I also remember you wanting to take the fall for me so willingly. You were ready to claim you had the knife and everything.”
She bobbed her head enthusiastically.
“That alone should’ve told me everything I needed to know. I’m sorry for pushing you away. I was disgusted with myself.”
“It was traumatic for you, too. I get that,” she said in a tiny voice.
We stared at each other, memories and emotions swirling around us.
I skimmed my knuckles across her cheek. “I want to be with you.”
“I want to be with you too. I want to experience life, not avoid it.” Her gaze fell to my lips as she licked her own. “You were set free by walking away from your past. I was set free when I learned more about mine. Now I’m thinking about the future.”
“I don’t want this to be some fling or business venture. I need more than that.”
“We’re more than that,” she affirmed.
“If we’re going to do this, I want all of you. Not some weird long-distance thing. Or casual dating. I want you in my bed when I wake up in the morning. I want to hear all about your crazy theories while we dye your hair. I want to spend holidays with you and go on more adventures.”
“Yes, I want that too,” she said, inching even closer to me.
“And I’m going to put a ring on that little finger of yours because I want to call you mine for the rest of my life.”
She breathed in my words, her eyes soft and full of love. “That’s all I needed to hear.” She picked up her Coke. “To the future.”
I clinked her glass with mine. “To the future.”
We spent hours catching up and talking nonstop. We were laughing so loud that at one point, people were side-eyeing us. It had been about a year and a half, but it was like barely any time had passed. Eventually, we got up to leave together. I loved how easy it felt to slip my hand in hers. How good it was to hold the door open for her.
The warm summer night hit me. The heat was different here in Wyoming. Drier. Like being baked in an oven, not sweltering in humidity. The world around us was golden with the pending sunset and the soft hum of nature mixed with Maisie’s voice.
“What are you driving nowadays?” Her eyes scanned the brown, dusty parking lot.
I gestured to my GTO parked away from everyone else to avoid dings. “I’m sorry, baby girl. I sold the bike. I couldn’t even look at it without thinking of you. I regret it now.”
“Oh, who did you sell it to?”
I fished for my keys. “Kaylee’s dad, so I promise it’s in good hands. He’s still in Maryland so we met halfway before I moved.”
“Interesting.”
Rounding the corner, I stopped dead in my tracks, staring at the all-black Triumph. My bike, our bike was parked in the sandy gravel.
“No way!” I bellowed.
She threw her head back in a musical giggle, clapping. “You did sell it to Kaylee’s dad, but he turned around and sold it to me.” A sparkle lit Maisie’s eyes.
“Are you fucking kidding me?”
It had gutted me to make that decision. I had sentimental attachments to the bike and my car, but I knew my GTO was rarer. I’d had to give up my dad’s shop, and the idea of giving up his car had just been too much to contend with in the swarm of change.
“Check the plate.”
I got closer to read the small plate that had HLL BNT punched into the metal in black letters.
“Hellbent?” I asked with a grin.
She walked toward me with a nod. “Hellbent. Reckless and stubbornly determined.”
“Yeah, that sounds like us.” I hooked an arm around her waist, pulling her closer to me.