Chapter 4
Brett
I try not to scarf down my burger, especially while I know Bailey and her friends are looking over here, but she wasn’t kidding; it’s the best burger I’ve ever had in my entire life. Holy cow.
Since I don’t know anyone around here, aside from my buddy Jed—he’s the one who suggested I come here for an extended stay—it’s sure nice to talk to Miss Cowboy Boots Bailey.
At first I wasn’t sure about Jed’s suggestion of coming here for an extended stay, but I’m glad I’m here. Alpine Falls might just be what the doctor ordered.
Despite what some may say about me back home, I’m not a man about town. Well, maybe back in my heyday, but that was so long ago I can barely remember. These days? I’m a one woman at a time kinda guy, though there hasn’t been any women for the last year.
Straightening out my bonfire of a life has taken me a long time. You could say Alpine Falls is like sweet therapy for me. I’m not used to anybody giving a shit. I love it.
I’ve never been able to sit in a bar and watch the game by myself, enjoy a beer and a meal for… well, never. Nobody bothers me here. Nobody cares. I could seriously get used to this.
I take another long pull on my beer, glancing across the room again.
To my disappointment, Bailey’s table is vacant.
Damn it. That fine woman did a number on me with that sure as shit attitude and sexy boots to match.
I palm the back of my head. It’s just as well.
Having another relationship, even a year on, am I even ready for that?
I always pictured my life being different at thirty-eight.
I thought I’d be settled. Married. Maybe a couple of kids.
A dog, maybe a goat, and some ducks. Fuck.
I really am pathetic. I may have a big ol’ house back in Nashville and a fancy car or two, but I’ve never been much into materialistic shit.
The perks of having money are nice, but the old saying about it not buying you happiness has never been more true.
Jed had to work late, hence why I’m here alone, but I’ll catch up with him tomorrow on the farm. This is only day two, and though this isn’t a large town, there’s a shit ton to do.
The warmer weather is well on its way, not that I mind the cooler months either. Wyoming is hardcore in the winter, according to Jed. This town can be snowed in for a week when a storm brews, not that that’s gonna happen in March.
“So, my friends insisted I say thank you on their behalf,” I hear from behind me. I turn just as my heart leaps in my chest. It’s Bailey, her eyes slightly guarded, but there’s amusement on her face, her mouth soft and not as pouty as before.
A shit-eating grin spreads across my face. Well, well.
“Oh? And where did they disappear to?”
“Apparently three’s a crowd, and four is… heck, I don’t know,” she sighs, sitting down on the stool next to me. “And you really should try the cherry pie before you leave town.”
I try not to glance at her cherry colored lips and wonder how they taste. Cool it, bozo. Don’t scare off the only person you know aside from your buddy.
I don’t know if it’s her way of asking if I’m staying in town, or if I’m only blowing in, but I answer honestly. “I’m here for an extended period. I don’t know how long that will be.”
“So, what brings you all the way out to Alpine Falls for an extended period?”
I don’t want to be dishonest, but I also value my privacy.
Not that she knows who I am, clearly. I think the beard and growing my hair longer certainly helped with that.
“I needed a change of scenery. ‘Blow the stink off,’ as we say back home. Plus, it’s quiet here, I have no quiet in my life back home.
Figurin’ stuff out is better when you’re out of the situation. ”
Back home. Should I even be calling it that?
“So you’re here to work things out? I get that. Was it a bad breakup?”
Wow, this chick is really forward, and I don’t mind it one bit. I wouldn’t say I’m an open book, not to people I don’t know, but I feel strangely comfortable with her.
I rub my chin with one hand, my lips fighting a smile. “Nope,” I pop the ‘p’, something I seem to be doing on the regular around her. “I just had a lot of life stuff go wrong. Luckily, an ex wasn’t one of those things.”
“Huh.”
I think she’s trying to figure me out, and that is kinda cute. “Does that surprise you?”
“That you haven’t left a trail of heartbroken women in your wake?” She shrugs. “Sure.”
I chuckle, liking the idea she thinks that’s even possible. “Wyoming women are… uh, blunt, to say the least.”
“I’d hardly call it that. We cut through the bullshit.”
“If I didn’t know any better, Bailey, I’d say you’re doin’ a mighty fine job of flirtin’ with me.”
Her pretty eyes land on me. “We don’t get many newcomers in town, that’s all.”
I place a hand over my heart. “Ouch. Burn.”
“Like I said, we cut through the bullshit. Plus, I’m a good listener. Always have been.”
“Is that your way of tryin’ to poke your nose in?” I chuckle. “Or are you makin’ me work for that cherry pie?”
Her eyes grow wider and she swallows hard. “I don’t sleep with people I barely know.”
“Who said anythin’ about sleepin’?” I laugh. “But that’s good to know.”
She points her finger at me. “There’s something about you, Brett. I can’t put my finger on it—”
I push down the panic inside me. She’s kidding. She doesn’t know you. “I have one of those faces,” I explain. “Or so my momma used to say.”
She studies me for a second, then asks, “So, where are you staying?”
I thumb behind me. “Alpine Apartments, for the short-term.”
She whistles through her teeth. “Ritzy, but if you wanted a better deal, I know the owners of The Lodge real well at Lawless Farms, it’s better than the resort.”
Ah, yes, the Lawless Christmas Tree Farm. Jed filled me in on the comings and goings of the townsfolk, not that it took very long, but I’m still getting my head around things.
“Thanks, I’ll keep it in mind.” I nod to her empty glass. “Would you like another drink?”
She contemplates for a second. “Just one.”
“Of course,” I say with a laugh as I motion to the bartender. I’m still nursing the same beer I was drinking with dinner. “What’s your poison?”
“It’s a White Russian, ever had one?”
I shake my head. “Can’t say that I have.”
“Well, it’s a delicious mix of vodka, Kahlua and cream.”
“That’s an interesting mix,” I say. “Would you like some pie with that?”
She takes all of two seconds to answer. “Don’t mind if I do. I should’ve warned you. I’m not one of those girls who doesn’t like to eat.”
I don’t know where she puts it because she’s slender, but has a nice round ass and hips to go with it.
“Nothin’ wrong with that,” I say as I order her drink, along with two cherry pies.
So we sit at the bar, the game playing on the television screen above while people come and go, and it’s… nice. Really nice. Bailey isn’t overly talkative, and neither am I, unless you get to know me. I don’t think I’ve sat in comfortable silence in… forever.
“Who’s your team?” I ask, not that it matters; this is a Super Bowl re-run, but still.
“Uh, the Denver Broncos,” she says with a slight ‘duh’ in her tone, then adds, “I grew up there, in Colorado.”
“They performed well last season, focusing on defense and running the ball worked well for them.”
She side eyes me. “Who’s your team?”
“Do you even have to ask that?” I smirk. “The Tennessee Titans.”
Suddenly, she places a hand on my arm and squeezes. “I’m so sorry.”
I don’t think I’ve smiled so much in my entire life. “Your commiserations are appreciated.”
“There’s always next season. Miracles can happen.”
I almost choke on my sip of beer. “I guess that’s true.”
“That is, if your team can refrain from injury like they did this past season, you were shit outta luck with Cam Ward, that was a huge loss for the team.”
I’ve never truly met a woman who likes to talk football before. It’s a first for me. “It was. Despite that, they’re improvin’, which is the best we could’ve hoped for with all our star players out.”
“Brandon Allen had a stellar season, and Simmons had something like eleven sacks. That’s a strong performance.”
I stare at her.
I think I’m in love.
No, seriously.
“You know a lot about football,” I say.
“Blame my dad. He wasn’t blessed with any sons, so he taught me how to pitch, kick a ball, swing a bat, you name it.” Her eyes light up at the memory and I smile to myself.
I miss my parents. A lot. And my little sister, Brianna. She texts me every day just to check in, and she’s the one person who accepts me for who I am. I’m not saying my parents don’t, they do, they’re good people, but my sister gets it. She’s always been there for me.
“Do they live here?” I ask.
“No, back in Colorado, but they visit all the time, and I go down whenever I can.”
“Do you have any siblings?”
“What is this, the Spanish Inquisition?” she shakes her head, but she’s smiling, kind of. “No siblings, just me. My best friend, Sadie, is like the sister I never had. We do everything together since she moved from New York.”
I’m glad she has good people in her life.
I also don’t know why that thought comes to me, or why it matters, but her presence is not only warm, it’s humbling.
I like her. She’s everything the girls I’m used to aren’t.
When I say it’s a breath of fresh air, I’m not kidding.
And I’m not even trying to pick her up. Okay, the cherry pie comment was flirty, but she’s cute, sue me.
I’m good with vibes, and we’re clicking.
She may be a little guarded and has a quick, dry wit, but when I do catch her smiling—holy fuck—the whole world lights up.
She should smile more, but it makes me start thinking about why she doesn’t.
That protective instinct in me rears its head, but I push it back down. I barely know this woman.
“Friends like that are the best kind,” I say. “My best friend Dale is like that, he’s a good guy.”
“Is he wallowy and broody like you?”
Man, she makes me laugh. “You think I’m wallowin’?”
“And broody. You’ve been holding that beer for the better part of the night.”
“I’m drivin’ as luck would have it,” I state, though I’ve never been a big drinker. “I promise, I’m neither, but you’re right, I do keep to myself, a personality trait.” I shrug.
Bailey’s drink arrives, interrupting us, then shortly after the pies are served up, and they look amazing.
Her suspicion of me isn’t comical, it’s sweet. I don’t blame her. I have a little sister; I get it.
Women have to be careful everywhere they fucking go. But I’m not some creep. I’m the guy who would make sure she got home safe, or walk her out to her car like a gentleman. It’s called southern manners.
“Well, you know what they say?” she says, taking a big scoop of pie onto her fork. “When in Alpine Falls?”
“Do as they do?” I finish on a hunch.
She nods, taking a huge mouthful. “Exactly.”