Chapter 12 #2
Another nod. A waiter appears and tops up our water glasses, then brandishes two big folders that turn out to be menus.
I stare at it, then up at Beau, amused to see his reaction.
His hands are massive against the rich red covers of the folder, but he looks completely at home as he scans the options then places the folder down.
‘You already know what you’re having?’
‘Steak and potato.’
I scan the menu, see the meal he’s referencing and nod, placing the menu beside me. ‘Sounds good.’
The waiter writes our order on his pad, asks how we want it cooked, then walks slowly away.
‘Beth’s pregnant, you said?’
His grin is contagious now. He’s obvious thrilled for her. ‘We’re having a baby.’
The way he says that, so proprietorial and proud, makes something inside me flutter to life.
We’re having a baby. Like he’s had some role in the whole situation, when I know he’s basically been on the road for months, and besides, that’s not how it works.
Out of nowhere, I get this image of Beau, all masculine and proud, home on the ranch, whatever that looks like, surrounded by little bull-riding Beaus.
I smother a smile at the very idea, but it’s really not that preposterous.
I can easily imagine Beau as a dad one day.
‘Do they know what they’re having?’
‘Nah, don’t reckon so. At least, not that they mentioned. I’ll find out next week.’
I reach for my water and take a sip. ‘You’re going home?’
‘I always do when I’ve got an event that’s local-ish.’
‘You’re talking about the Phoenix rodeo?’
He nods.
‘I’d love to see the ranch, talk to your family.’ Heat blooms in my face as I realise how girlfriend-y that sounds. ‘For the article,’ I hasten to add.
But Beau’s doing that big old smile of his, looking like I’ve just asked him to marry me.
‘To get more of a picture of your life,’ I mutter, pleating my napkin in my lap.
‘I can give you a picture of my life right now.’
I relax, feeling like we’re moving closer to solid ground. This is what I do. As if to emphasise that, I reach into my clutch and remove a small notepad, then catch Beau looking at me with a half-cocked brow.
‘Go on,’ I invite, as the waiter returns with a beer for Beau, a wine for me, and a small basket of bread.
Having my notepad out is good cover anyway.
He’s probably right. This doesn’t seem like the kind of place bull riders would go for a quick feed, but if anyone should happen to recognise Beau, at least it will look like this is part of the job.
‘Whaddaya wanna know?’
‘Anything.’ I tap my finger against the tabletop. ‘Let’s start with the ranch itself. What was it like growing up somewhere like that?’
He looks into the distance, a small frown on his face. ‘Untamed,’ he says, after a beat. ‘Liberating.’
‘In what way?’
I lean forward without realising it, like I’m literally hanging on the words I hope he’ll speak, fascinated by the web he’ll weave—if he starts to open up to me.
‘We had a lot of freedom; most kids do in those parts. After Mom died, Cole kinda took over shepherding us. He was just a kid, you know, but he’s one of those guys …’
His voice trails off and his eyes fall to the notepad. I put my pen down.
‘Off the record, for now,’ I promise.
He nods once. ‘He’s just always felt like it’s all his to fix, you know?
The whole world. Everything that’s wrong with it, everything that’s wrong, it’s something he’s gotta find a solution for.
Dad was a mess after Mom, and Cole did everything he could to keep us all on track.
I took it for granted as a kid, and I resented the fuck out of him as a teenager when he’d tell me what to do.
’ Beau smiles in my direction, but I catch something like guilt in the darkness of his eyes.
He shrugs his shoulders, and my mouth goes dry as I remember how broad they are, how warm his skin is to touch.
‘But you don’t now?’
‘I guess you grow into yourself as you get older. He can’t tell me what to do; I don’t listen, even if he tries.’
‘What’s he like with the rest of your family?’ I flick through my notepad. ‘Nash, Austin, Cassidy …?’
He lifts a piece of bread to his lips. Once he’s finished chewing, he wipes his mouth with the napkin. ‘The same, mostly. He can’t help it.’
‘Does it bother them?’
‘It doesn’t bother me. Not now. If anything, I just always felt sorry for him, for how much he takes on.
And he holds it all in, like he doesn’t want to put anything on anyone.
Even stuff with the ranch. Then Beth came along, and it was like Cole was suddenly shaken back to life. She just woke him up again, you know?’
I can’t help but smile at that. ‘Beau Donovan, you’re a romantic.’
He guffaws, reaches for his beer, takes a sip then almost chokes as he laughs again. ‘A romantic. Yeah, okay.’
‘I’m serious. You think true love brought your brother back to life. That’s awfully sweet, for a cowboy.’
He looks toward the ceiling. ‘I’m just saying what I saw.’
‘And what about you?’ I prop my chin in the palm of my hand. ‘We’ve already established that you don’t do relationships. Why, though? When you clearly believe that love has the power to be so transformative?’
His eyes widen and then he glances at the bread. There’s one piece left—I push the basket in his direction, but he ignores it.
‘Who can say?’
‘Well, presumably you can.’
‘Nah, that’s the thing, I can’t. I just know I’ve never been interested in the whole love thing. I’m happy for my friends, family, when they fall in love or whatever. Weddings are great, kids are great, but I’ve never watched someone walk down the aisle and thought Gee, I wish that was me.’
‘Maybe you just haven’t met the right woman?’
‘I don’t know,’ he says. ‘I’ve met a lot of women—don’t you think statistically by now I’d have fallen for one of them, if I was gonna?’
‘Fair point,’ I murmur, ignoring the stab of something in my chest when he refers to how many women he’s been with. He doesn’t say it, but I feel myself added to that, like a piece of hay on a haystack. Nothing special.
‘You’re coming to the next event?’ he asks, changing the subject with all the subtlety of a brick.
‘I’m coming to the next two events. Which is why a visit to the ranch will work perfectly.’ On that score, I don’t intend to take no for an answer.
‘You can come to the ranch,’ he agrees. ‘But just don’t expect to escape without getting your hands dirty.’
I hold his gaze, silently encouraging him to continue.
‘It’s a ranch, darlin’. You can come rope a horse with me, move a fence, maybe even get on the back of a bull.’
I blanch. ‘Erm, no, thanks.’
He laughs. ‘Yeah, forget the bull. Don’t think I’d wanna see that.’ He takes a drink of beer. ‘We can drive out there together from Albuquerque.’ His eyes narrow. ‘In fact, how’re you getting to the next event?’
‘I have a flight booked Wednesday.’
He leans forward, and beneath the table his ankle brushes against mine. Sparks shoot through me. I glance around guiltily, but no one’s looking our way. Besides, they couldn’t see beneath the tablecloth, even if they were. ‘I got a better idea.’
I halfway hold my breath, waiting for him to speak.
‘Let’s drive over together.’
My heart slams into my ribs. ‘Why?’
His smile spreads slowly, making his eyes sparkle. My insides burst. ‘You wanna see what my life’s really like? Well, a huge part of that’s being out there. Just me, the open road, and the setting sun.’
Vivid imagery comes to mind, along with the possibility of being enclosed in a car with this man.
On the road, away from prying eyes, the risk of being discovered.
Excitement bubbles beneath my skin. Enough excitement that I should take that as a warning and back right away.
Because this is casual and meaningless—not the beginning and end of my fantasies.
‘It does sound beautiful,’ I say, noncommittally.
‘But?’
My lips pull to the side as I consider that. ‘Maybe the less time we spend together, the better.’
His laugh is a soft rebuke. ‘Why’s that, Bailey James?’
‘I just … think it’s smarter.’
‘Safer?’
I expel a breath of relief, glad he understands.
‘I don’t think it matters how much time we spend together, we’re still gonna want to jump each other’s bones whenever we can.’
My heart speeds up. I glance toward the windows of the restaurant, heat moving through my whole body. ‘That’s kind of my point.’
‘Let’s make the most of it while we’re together,’ he suggests. ‘Two-and-a-half weeks’ll fly by.’ He reaches out and brushes his hand over mine quickly. ‘No regrets.’
No regrets.
The simple phrase lands inside of me with a thud.
Ever since Kirk, I’ve tried to make choices that avoid exactly that: regret.
I regretted falling in love with someone who was a lie.
I regretted falling in love with a married man, trusting him blindly, planning a whole life with a guy I evidently barely knew.
I have regretted that every day since. So I know a thing or two about the pain of waking up and wishing you could click your fingers and change the past.
Beau’s right.
If I don’t dive headlong into this for the rest of the time we have, I’m not going to be able to walk away with a clean break.
I mean, I’ll still do it. There’s no future here, no hope for anything other than what we’ve agreed.
But I don’t want to be waking up thinking about Beau Donovan in ten years, wishing I’d spent more time with him, wondering ‘what if’.
Particularly not when he’ll probably be settled down, married with kids by then, despite what he says.
‘You just can’t get enough of me, can you, cowboy?’ I make sure to layer my voice with amusement, to lighten the tone.
But there’s nothing light about the look on his face as he reaches under the table and brushes his hand over my knee. ‘No, Bailey, I don’t think I can.’