Chapter 11 #2
I smile at Beth’s encyclopedic knowledge of the tour.
She keeps an itinerary pinned on the fridge and texts me before events to recommend restaurants I might like.
Beth has a taste for the finer things in life and I love good food, so we bond over places to eat.
Sure, my preference generally runs to heavy meat and barbecues, whereas she’s just as at home in a Michelin-starred restaurant, but flavour’s flavour.
‘I can’t believe you’re having a baby,’ I say, shaking my head.
‘We’re having a baby,’ she repeats, tears in her eyes, and I feel a holy roar of pleasure for this woman who came into our family and stitched us all back together again.
After Dad died, we were floundering. Going through the motions, trying to hold it together, Cole most of all.
He had the weight of the world on his shoulders, to keep the ranch going, keep us all on track.
It was pulling him apart, but none of us realised that.
None of us knew. Until Beth. She saw, and she wrapped her arms around him and never let go.
But the thing is, she was breaking too. Into a thousand tiny pieces of grief and trauma, and just as much as she fixed Cole right back up, he fixed her as well.
Seeing her now, so happy she’s practically glowing, almost makes me forget about the woman who left here a moment ago distinctly not glowing. Looking like she’d seen a ghost. Or worried I was going to turn into one.
Because she thought I was going to out her to my family? Or that they’d even give a shit?
I don’t know, but I don’t really like ending our night like that.
I wrap up the call with a few more wisecracks aimed at Austin and Nash then pull on my jeans and head to the door.
I have to go down to reception to get a keycard to her floor, and that takes a little charming of the staff, but within ten minutes I’m on my way to level four, striding down the corridor to Bailey’s room.
I knock solidly on the door and wait.
By the time she wrenches it open, she’s changed into a pair of yoga pants and an oversized shirt that does something funny to my insides. This version of her, all chill and relaxed, I really, really like.
Her eyes slip past mine, landing somewhere over my shoulder. ‘Did I forget something?’
My gut tilts off course—something that usually keeps me levelheaded and set on how I need to be. I shake my head. ‘Nah,’ I fake it, sounding like normal, to my relief. ‘I just wanted to make sure you were okay. You kinda bolted out on me.’
‘I told you I was leaving.’ She underscores her defensive tone by crossing her arms over her chest. The shirt looks like it’s swallowing her whole.
‘You practically left a hole in the wall from where you ran out.’
She stays there, but at least her eyes lift to mine again, so I feel like she’s coming back to me. ‘I guess that was your family?’
‘They usually call after an event.’
‘Even though you’re so often “entertaining”?’ she asks, one brow raised.
‘That’s just my brother talking smack.’
‘I don’t care,’ she mutters, but it doesn’t sound quite genuine. I press my shoulder against her door, holding it inwards to relieve her foot of the job.
‘I already told you, that’s not what I’m like anymore.’
She tilts her chin. ‘Really, it’s none of my business.’
That tilts whatever it is in my chest even more off centre. ‘You say that, but you seem kinda pissed.’
‘I didn’t want them to see me. You didn’t want them to see me. I thought leaving was the best thing to do.’
It makes sense. It’s a very logical explanation, but something about it doesn’t stack up. ‘It’s okay, you know. I mean, we just slept together. It’s normal to not want to think that you’re just like a number or something.’
‘I don’t care if I am,’ she responds quickly. ‘I know what we’re doing, Beau.’
A noise sounds from down the hallway. I turn to look, see an older gentleman coming out of a room, but then Bailey’s hand is curving around my arm and she’s yanking hard, pulling me inside.
‘Do you want the whole goddamn world to know about this?’ she hisses once we’re in her room and the door’s shut.
I stare at her, frowning. ‘I don’t think the whole goddamn world’s really gonna care that much.’
‘People in my world would,’ she reminds me.
‘Okay, sure, but believe me when I tell you, ain’t no one in my family who’s gonna go tell your boss what’s happening here.’
‘Nothing’s happening here,’ she refutes. ‘We slept together. That’s it. Tomorrow you go back to being you, I go back to being me, and we get down to the work I’m supposed to be doing.’
I let out a sharp laugh at that.
‘Why’s that funny?’
‘Well, sweetheart, it almost sounds like you think this was a one-time thing?’
When she looks at me now, her defiance slips for a moment, and she looks … something. Something I can’t quite explain. ‘I think it kind of has to be.’
‘Why?’
She stubs her toe across the carpet, her gaze dropping to follow the line she draws. ‘There’s just too much at stake for me, you know?’
‘Who the hell would care that much?’
‘I’ve told you, the people I work with—’
‘Why’s your sex life any of their business?’
She compresses her lips. ‘For starters, there’s a code of ethics, Beau. None of this is simple.’
‘What does that mean?’
‘It means I have to work out what my duties are here.’
‘You’re saying you’re not allowed to sleep with me?’
Her cheeks glow pink. ‘No. But I probably have to tell someone. I don’t know. Can you just leave it alone?’
‘I’m trying to understand.’
‘You don’t need to understand. It’s my life, and I’m telling you this is the right decision for me.’
Irritation at the whole situation arcs inside of me, but I know she’s right; I have no choice but to respect what she’s saying, even when it seems like she’s blowing things way out of proportion.
‘Okay, look, let me just say this.’ I lift my hands and hold them palms out, in the universal gesture of appeasement.
‘I said you can trust me, and you can. I’ve got no interest in having my business out there either. ’
She snorts.
‘What?’
‘You’re a fucking social media star.’
I laugh at that. ‘I’m really not.’
She rolls her eyes. ‘You have like millions of followers.’
‘The ranch has millions of followers.’
‘Because of you.’
‘And Mack and Nash and everyone; it’s the whole family.’
She shakes her head. ‘I can’t do this.’
‘We said behind closed doors—’
‘Yeah, well, you keep opening them.’
‘What does that even mean?’
‘Your family, the FaceTime call, this door.’ She nods behind me.
I press my lips together. ‘You’re right. I shouldn’t have taken the call. I don’t think of them as being outside though. They’re my family, and we’re close. I didn’t think how it would make you feel; I’m sorry.’
She jerks her head away, her expression impossible to read.
‘As for this door, I was just too focused on you to think about it. It won’t happen again.’
She nods once.
‘Bailey, I like you. I like spending time with you, making you laugh, making you scream my name,’ I add with a wink, when she glances my way.
A smile trembles on her lips. ‘But we already agreed what this is. My whole world is bull riding, no one’s going to come between me and it, even someone as incredible as you.
I’m up for a good time with you while you’re hanging around.
If that’s something you’re up for, then let me know.
Otherwise, we can just go back to how it was before. It’s your call.’
She stares at me, and I can see the war she’s waging, the way she’s trying to work out what she wants, and what she knows she should do.
‘This isn’t— It’s not really you,’ she says, after a brief pause.
To my relief, she steps back, deeper into her hotel room, which is similar to mine in terms of decor but smaller, so I feel too big for this space.
‘It’s … my ex,’ she groans, squeezing her eyes shut.
‘That whole thing really messed me up. This is hard for me.’
I brace my body, feet planted wide, arms at my side, as I let her words work through me. I immediately think of Beth and the absolute piece of shit she was married to before Cole. The guy who used to hurt her because he was a POS, who treated her like she was his to control and intimidate.
‘Did he hit you?’ I hate even saying the words, let alone imagining it.
She spins around and stares at me, then shakes her head quickly. ‘God, no, no, never. Kirk wasn’t violent.’ She twists her fingers though, and I recognise that there are many ways one person can hurt another.
‘He was just a lying bastard,’ she says, after a long, drawn-out pause. ‘He was married. I didn’t know.’
I let out a low whistle. ‘Scum.’ I move closer to her, but I can tell from her body language that she doesn’t want to be touched or comforted.
In that moment, she’s like a fierce bull, and I have enough experience wrangling them to know when to back off and keep my distance. ‘Were you with him long?’
‘Almost a year.’
Surprise strangles me. ‘And you had no idea?’
So much for being good at reading people.
It’s the worst thing I can say. She sends me a look of abject frustration and hurt.
‘Of course not. He was a very good liar. We met through work—he was a journalist for a New York paper, I was based in LA. He came over to cover a political event, we got talking. But it was a long-distance thing, we only saw each other when we travelled for work. Until he got headhunted by my paper, and there was a welcome reception for him.’ She clears her throat, doesn’t quite meet my eyes.
‘His wife came—she surprised him. I don’t think he knew his worlds would collide like that. ’
I bite back a curse. ‘Bastard.’
‘Yeah.’ She moves to the edge of the bed and sits down, staring straight ahead.
She looks so small and fragile compared to her usual ball-busting image that something inside me snaps.
‘The thing is, I think he did love me, he just loved her too. He didn’t know how to choose between us, so I made the choice for him.
I quit the paper the next day, took up a role at the Houston Standard, moved my ass halfway across the country so I’d never have to see him again. ’
‘Have you?’
She angles her face to look at me, hesitating for a beat. ‘A couple of times.’ Her throat shifts. That green-eyed monster is unmistakable this time, but it’s combined with something else—a desire to protect her too. To want her to be strong enough to keep this jackass out of her life.
‘You were with him again?’
‘Not after I knew about her. I would never do that to another woman, Beau. How can you even ask me that?’
She’s right. Bailey is all scruples and morals. Even though I’ve only known her a matter of days, I know that. ‘So what happened when you saw him?’
‘He tried to explain. Told me he wanted to be friends. Said he could help ‘mentor’ me.’
‘And you said?’
‘That he could go to hell, obviously. If he really cared about me, he would never have put me in that position. I still feel so dirty, to know that I was with some poor woman’s husband.
That she was at home, thinking she had this perfect life, and he was out there, making me fall in love with him, promising me a world he had no right to suggest he could give me. Jackass.’
But had she stayed single because she couldn’t get over the guy? Was that why she hadn’t been with anyone since? Or was it that after someone like that, she found it impossible to trust her own instincts?
I hedge my bets on the latter, because no matter what, that’s gotta be a part of this.
‘You don’t know me, Bailey. Not really. But if you did, if you spoke to any of the people in my life, they’d tell you this: you can trust me with your life.
I am never gonna lie to you. I am never gonna use you.
When I tell you I want to have fun with you, I mean just that.
When I tell you this is only gonna last as long as you’re hanging around the tour, I mean that too.
And when I tell you that the ball’s in your court, that you can ask me to leave this room right now and I will, that you can tell me we’re never sleeping together again and we won’t; all of this is on your terms.’ I move closer, because I need her to see the truth on my face.
I crouch down in front of her, so we’re both at eye level. ‘I’m nothing like him.’
That same war is being waged inside her—instincts she honed out of her heartbreak battling the instinct I think she has to trust me.
‘I know that,’ she whispers and puts a hand on my cheek, frowning as she stares at me. ‘I’ve known that since I first met you. You’re salt of the earth, one of the good ones. But you see, that scares me too, Beau.’
‘Not a fan of good guys?’ I tease, but wish I hadn’t when I sense she might pull away from me.
‘No, it’s just … I’m not sticking around in Texas.
As soon as I can get on a desk in Washington, I’m going.
Political reporting is my new dream, and I’ve already had to walk away from one so you know I’m never giving up on this.
My whole life is about my career, the career I want, the role I know I’ll be best at.
The last thing I need is to … you know, get carried away with something, with someone … special.’
I know she’s telling me why we can’t do this, or at least why we shouldn’t, but the way she says that, the way she basically implies she’s worried I’ll be too good to walk away from, that this thing might grow to be more than she can handle, makes my chest puff up like a singing bird’s.
‘What if I tell you I won’t let that happen?’ I say, my voice gruff.
Her eyes hold mine.
‘What if I promise on my life I won’t let this get serious?’
She toys with her fingers.
‘Listen, Bay Jay.’ I infuse my voice with a teasing tone.
‘I’m twenty-eight years old and I’ve never been with a woman who’s wanted more from me.
I don’t do serious, I don’t do commitment.
As much as you’re chasin’ your dreams, I’m chasin’ mine.
You’re going to Washington, I’m going around the country doing this, and then, one day, I’m retiring to a big, dusty ranch in Northern Arizona, to live among the cows and the coyotes, and that’s just about as far from politics as you can get.
’ I reach out and press my finger to her chin.
‘You can relax, honey. I’ll take care of you, just how you wanna be taken care of, and then I’ll let you go again. Simple, right?’