Chapter 37 The Outsider
the outsider
ROXANNE
We all help set up the dinner in the Nook that evening.
Georgia arranges wildflowers in mason jars.
Millie’s organizing the s’mores station.
Topper and Rusty are still arguing over who caught the biggest fish at the camp out while they set the table.
Leo fiddles with the Bluetooth speaker that’s always a little too loud or too quiet.
I take a step back for a moment, soaking up the way everyone pitches in to make the night so special.
The only thing missing is Duke.
“Where’s your man?” Allie asks leaning in and nudging me.
I jab her and she giggles as she helps fill glasses with water. “He should be here any minute.”
“How are you going to function while he’s gone?”
I roll my eyes. “Please, you’re the lovesick one around here.”
“Am not.”
Topper then breezes by us and kisses Allie on the cheek before disappearing into the kitchen. “Okay, so what if I am?”
We both laugh, but I stop when a figure in the shadows catches my eye.
The silhouette alone tells me it’s Garrett.
In the weeks before, he was engaged at these dinners.
After the camp out, he’s stayed to the periphery more.
I shake off a shudder as I lay out water glasses on the table.
When I glance up again, he’s gone. My thoughts don’t linger on him long because someone else steps out of the shadows.
He’s wearing a navy suit that’s tailored within an inch of its life.
His crisp white shirt is open enough to hint at the man underneath.
His hair is damp and tousled like he ran a hand through it on his way here.
He’s all dressed up and seeing him in this new polished form makes me want to rip the clothes from his body and tumble around with him in the grass.
Keep it together, Roxanne!
“Oh … my God,” I whisper.
Allie turns, follows my gaze, and gasps softly. “Whoa, he certainly puts the dude in dude ranch.”
Leo almost drops the speaker in his hands. “I’m going to need a moment. Maybe two.”
Duke spots me, and for a second, his eyes ease down to my dress, then slowly up to my face like he’s memorizing every inch.
He leans in close, his voice low and velvety in my ear. “You’re gonna make me late if you keep looking at me like that.”
“You’re already late,” I say.
“I had to look good for the woman I’m crazy about,” he says.
My heart thrums in my chest like a motor that roars to life from the push of a button. “You wear that suit well.”
“Why, thank you. You’re not the only one who can shop, Trouble.” He turns to Allie, who is staring at him with her mouth open. “Allie, Leo, how does this evening find you?”
“Very well, thank you,” Leo says.
“Good, good, I’m, thank you. I’ll …” Allie stutters. “Okay, there’s no other way to say this. You look hot. Like flaming hot.”
Leo guides Allie to the kitchen. “Come, let’s go see if we can help bring out dinner.”
Duke chuckles as his hand slides to the small of my back. It’s a simple touch, but I feel it everywhere as every nerve in my body tilts toward him.
“Damn,” I whisper under my breath.
“What was that?”
“Nothing,” I squeak.
He smiles like he knows exactly what he’s doing. “Save me a seat by your side.”
“It’s already got your name on it.”
He brushes a kiss on my neck before walking toward the table, leaving me standing there flushed, tingling, and barely upright.
I’m proud when I manage to make it to my seat without floating off the ground. Allie’s smirking at me from across the table.
“Stop it,” I mouth.
“I have said nothing,” she remarks.
“You didn’t have to,” I say.
When Thatcher Green and a couple of sous chefs deliver dinner, the incredible spread of food becomes a distraction for all of us.
The long wooden table in the Nook practically groans under the weight of the spread.
Cast iron skillets hold seared elk medallions drizzled with blackberry port reduction, still sizzling from the stove.
There’s a platter of roasted root vegetables, carrots, golden beets, parsnips that are caramelized to perfection and tossed in fresh thyme. A giant wooden bowl overflows with arugula and citrus salad, sprinkled with toasted hazelnuts and shaved pecorino.
In the center, a sourdough boule still warm from the oven waits to be torn apart, the crust crackling under eager fingers. Next to it, tiny ramekins of whipped honey butter and roasted garlic compound butter gleam in the candlelight.
Everyone murmurs and tries to hold back their drool as Thatcher and his team finish telling us what we’re about to devour.
We clap as he asks for us to recognize his chefs, and he bows before heading back to the kitchen.
We bow our heads as Rusty leads the dinner prayer and once released, we dive in.
Topper raises his glass like he’s making a toast, but instead, he grins across the table at Duke. “Would you look at this guy? All cleaned up and nowhere to rodeo.”
Georgia chimes in, fork mid-air. “Duke, you walk in here lookin’ like a damn catalog model, and we’re just supposed to eat dinner like normal people?”
“Have to look good for when Mr. Hollywood shows up,” Duke says, tugging at his collar.
I lift my water glass and take a sip. “Some of us appreciate the effort.”
Duke turns to me. “Glad you approve.”
“Approve?” I say. “That suit should come with a warning label.”
Topper swallows his bite of elk. “Maybe ‘contents are dangerously hot’?”
Leo pretends to swoon. “Someone hold me.”
They all laugh, the kind of easy, unguarded laughter that only comes after a long day and a good meal.
Millie lifts her wine glass. “Well, I’m thrilled to see Duke dressing up for once. I think we all should dress up more for these dinners Thatcher puts on.”
Topper groans dramatically. “Last time I tried to dress up for one of these dinners, I split the seat of my pants getting out of the golf cart.”
“Those pants were four sizes too small,” Duke quips.
Rusty chimes in without missing a beat. “That was the same night you tried to impress that yoga instructor from Aspen.”
Stedman lifts his brow. “The one with the man bun?”
“No, that was her assistant, Jeff,” Topper says, pointing his fork at him. “Although he was handsome.”
Georgia giggles into her wineglass. “I remember that night. You refused to sit down the whole evening. Kept leaning against the wall like it would fall down if you weren’t there.”
“Y’all were just jealous,” Topper says. “I looked good.”
Millie shakes her head, laughing. “You looked like you got dressed in the dark.”
I catch Duke watching the table. He’s smiling, but not just with his mouth. It’s in the way his shoulders relax, the way his gaze lingers a second longer on each of us. This … this right here is what Firebird gives people—a family.
Rusty starts chatting Duke up about his trip with Charlie when Millie taps me on the shoulder.
“You’d be good for him,” she says, nodding toward Duke. “I can see it. And Lord knows that man needs someone to light him up from the inside out.”
I blink. “Oh, I—”
“Don’t be modest, honey. Duke was a broken man until you got here.”
I smile and give a small nod. “I was broken too when I arrived. Not sure I’m all put together again, but I’m getting there.”
“You will. You’ll get there,” she says, gently rubbing my arm. “I’ve seen miracles happen on this ranch, and I know they will happen for you, too.”
“Thanks, Millie.”
The table is still humming with the final notes of laughter and clinking glasses when Thatcher and the other chefs join in to enjoy the last bites of dinner.
Though they protest, I tell everyone to relax and enjoy as I collect empty dessert plates and head for the kitchen.
The hallway is dim, the chatter behind me fading under the low drone of kitchen fans.
I pass the swinging door and place the plates by the sink, pausing for a breath.
When I turn around, I freeze.
Garrett.
He’s leaning against the wall like a shadow that’s slipped free of its source. His fingers are wrapped around the lip of a beer bottle. His eyes are dark, his shirt rumpled in the way that spells trouble. “Hey.”
“Hello,” I say carefully. “Everything okay?”
He takes a step forward, and something tightens in my chest.
“I wanted to talk to you,” he says, blinking slowly, like he’s dragging each word up from the bottom of a bottle. “You … you’re always with him now. Faraday.”
I swallow and avoid his eyes. “I think you better sleep this one off.”
I try to move past him, but he steps into my path. His shoulders are squared now, and he’s carrying military muscle that hasn’t softened.
“Please let me pass, Garrett.”
“You’re so pretty.” His words are almost slurring now. He lifts a finger from his bottle and runs it down my arm, causing me to flinch.
“Get out of my way,” I bark.
“What’s your hurry?”
I glance to my left and see a side exit to the kitchen. I step back and then rush toward the door. The night air barely hits me when I feel two large hands grab me from behind. Garrett whips me around and slams me up against the outside wall of the kitchen.
The breath rushes out of me in a choked gasp. Panic is crawling up my spine, my chest is heaving, and Garrett has me pinned against the cold wall.
“You think this is a game, don’t you?” he growls.
I shake my head. “Garrett, you’re drunk. Let me go and we can talk—”
“Shut the fuck up!”
He slams a hand against the wall beside my head, caging me in. His eyes flick over me like he’s trying to decide whether to kiss me or crush me. My heart rate spikes as I scan behind him to see where I can run.
He dips his head down on my neck and trails his mouth against my collarbone. “God, I wish you were mine. I’ve seen you walking around in your skimpy clothes. Faraday isn’t the only man on the ranch, you know.”
I punch him in the ribs, but it only hurts my hand. He glances up at me, smirking.
“Relax, baby. I just wanna talk to you.”
“Pinning me against a wall isn’t how you just talk to someone.”
His expression shifts from raw emotion to something I can’t explain. “I saw my entire unit get wiped out, okay? You don’t fucking understand!”
“Garrett, I’m sorry for what you’ve been through, but you need help.” I can barely get the words out because my blood is pulsing in my ears. “They can help you here.”
“They don’t do shit for us! You think taking care of some dumb animals is supposed to fix me?”
“You have to want to get better.”
“I do,” he says and his eyes wrench, tears welling up in them. “I want to, but I can’t stop the nightmares.”
His voice breaks at the end, and for a flicker of a moment, my heart aches for him. He looks so lost, so shattered. “Please talk to Duke.”
Garrett takes a step forward, his eyes glassy with drink, jaw tight like he’s grinding through something unsaid.
“Garrett, don’t—” I try to wriggle out from under him, but he moves quicker, grabbing my upper arm.
“Why him?” he says between clenched teeth. “Why does he get everything?”
I try to yank my arm free. “Let go.”
His grip tightens.
“Garrett,” I snap, louder now. “Let go of me!”
He jerks me toward him so fast I slam into his solid chest.
“You don’t belong here,” he growls. “None of this is real for you. You haven’t seen the shit I’ve seen—”
“Get off me!” I shout, my voice breaking, fury and fear colliding as I try to shove him back. “Stop!”
He clamps both hands around my arms and starts dragging me toward the woods.