Chapter 13 #2
The right amount of arrogance could keep things running smoothly.
The right amount of arrogance could make it so you accomplished good things. Just like he had done here.
But once arrogance didn’t have anything constructive to do, it got destructive. It wasn’t a neutral trait, he knew that for a fact.
He didn’t want to be that person.
He was afraid of being that person.
He didn’t even want anyone raising a beer to him, because he might become that person.
He didn’t say that, though, instead he tipped his hat, and lifted his beer bottle.
“What would your old man think if he could see this?” Nolan asked.
“I don’t care,” Lila said. “Because he never cared about seeing me.”
“He would think that it was terrible,” Walker said. “Letting just anybody stay here. This was his cattle kingdom. And the riffraff was allowed to work here, but never to enjoy it.”
“Well, the prices are such that it isn’t like people he would consider riffraff are going to be staying here,” Zane pointed out.
Leave it to Zane.
“Maybe not,” Nolan said. “But there’s the bakery. Anybody can come to that. We’ve turned his temple into a house of thieves.” He grinned. “He’s not even my dad, and I like it.”
Nolan didn’t know who his dad was, so getting revenge on him would be impossible.
But Cody had no issue with Nolan getting a little hit of paternal rage out by proxy.
“He would hate it just because we changed it.” Cody looked at the back wall of the barn, still full of tables, and evidence that people had been here, enjoying the food, enjoying their evening.
“Because anything he gave us we should’ve been happy to take just as it was, keep it as a memorial to him.
The Painted Ridge Ranch doesn’t belong to David Reynolds.
It belongs to us. Our names are on the papers, our mother’s last name, this is our legacy. Her legacy. Fuck him.”
“Fuck him,” Nolan agreed, lifting his beer bottle.
“Fuck him!” everyone said, and they clanked their beer bottles together, even Zane, and took a long drink.
Cody was the last one in the barn. He couldn’t bring himself to leave.
Couldn’t bring himself to walk away from the night.
Because something in him just wasn’t satisfied.
It didn’t feel like the right time to go.
Marlowe.
She had been missing tonight, in the beer circle. That didn’t make any sense. She wasn’t part of the core group. And yet, she was running the resort, so it felt like she should’ve been.
But she wasn’t, because of him.
Because of the way things had gone with the two of them.
He should go and talk to her.
Tension curled tight in his stomach. He knew that if he went and talked to her, it wouldn’t be just to talk.
Luckily, you messed things up with her so badly she wouldn’t want to touch you.
Unless she did.
Unless…
When have you ever done anything for yourself?
That was a shitty thing to think about another human being. That she could be for him.
He wanted that, though, right now, whether it was shitty or not.
He wanted it badly.
He wanted her to be his.
Just for a little bit. It didn’t have to be anything too deep. Didn’t have to be anything forever.
His brother was right. This was the culmination of a whole lot of hard work. Couldn’t they do this? Just for a little while.
Before he could talk himself out of it, he got into his truck and started to drive toward the hotel.
This was stupid, and he should text her. At the very least, rather than just showing up without warning.
This was…
He could remember sneaking away to have sex when he was in high school, but it had been about the sex. It hadn’t been about whatever person was waiting for him. He was ashamed to think about that now.
He had been getting something from it. Temporary, momentary sensations of being good enough. Good enough for a ride, anyway, even if he wasn’t good enough to be seen in public with.
It was gross, in hindsight. Probably on his part, and the part of the woman that he was with.
Because she was slumming it with him, but he was letting himself be that.
This wasn’t the same. This was about Marlowe. It wasn’t about proving anything. She was the one with less power in the situation, and he had too much. He wasn’t his father, though. He wasn’t getting off on the power.
He gripped the steering wheel of his truck and told himself that repeatedly as his tires turned over the gravel road, until it got to the paved one that led to the hotel parking lot.
Not all the lights were on, but there was one, right above the registration desk. And he could see Marlowe, standing there with her head bent low over something, her hair shimmering like copper in the dim light.
Well. He’d done it. He’d driven all this way. Was he going to stop in? Or not? That was the question.
Or he could just sit out here like a creeper, before he turned around and went back to bed. Alone.
He let out a long, hard breath.
He wanted her.
He also wanted her to understand why he’d been such a dick earlier. Because it wasn’t about her. He wasn’t trying to hurt her. He wasn’t trying to make a mess of things. It was just he wasn’t used to there being things. Wasn’t used to there being a connection beyond a transient physical attraction.
He wasn’t sure if he knew how to explain himself to anybody.
Walker was probably the person who understood him the most, but Walker was good at reading everybody, and he didn’t have to talk to Walker for Walker to get a read on him.
Then there was Nolan, who was his best friend.
Like another brother, Nolan didn’t really need to plumb the depths of Cody.
Or of anyone. So that meant he didn’t have to work to explain himself.
Zane would rather cut off his own arm than have somebody explain their emotional state to him. So that was simple.
Sometimes he wondered if Lila needed more than he had ever been able to give.
But, if so, she never said anything. And it was too late for him to do anything about it now.
Well, that was the list of people in his life. Most of them had known him forever.
Zane had known him the least amount of time, and Cody would say that their relationship wasn’t built on much other than quiet understanding. Otherwise…
Yeah. He just didn’t know how to do this.
He had a feeling that she had wanted to get more out of him from the beginning. But he didn’t know how to articulate it.
He knew what he could show her. The top of the ridge.
He let out a slow breath and was halfway out of his pickup truck before he could second-guess himself.
He walked up to the lobby doors and pulled hard, and they didn’t give.
He had a key. But instead, he stood there for a moment, waiting for her to look up. She did. Eyes catching his and holding.
And he figured it was up to her. If she wanted to let him in or not.
He watched as she slowly made her way around the counter, walking toward the door, and turning the lock at the bottom, then at the center.
He held his breath the whole time.
Like the kind of teenage boy he’d never actually been. One who felt some kind of giddy over whether or not a girl might like him.
He had known that none of those girls liked him.
He just wanted them anyway, because it was a Band-Aid for something empty inside him.
Was he doing that here?
He didn’t have time to ponder the question for too long. He pushed the doors open like a warrior storming a keep, and there was nothing between them.
He hadn’t really rehearsed a speech, his thoughts had been spinning the whole trip over here. So, he figured it was best if he didn’t talk at all. Instead, he wrapped his arm around her waist, pulled her against his body, and kissed her.
She kissed him back, hand pressed against his face as he lifted her up and walked her a few paces into the hotel lobby so that the door would close behind them.
Then he set her down, her high heels clicking on the floor. “Sorry,” he said. “For being so bad at this.”
She let out a fluttering breath and pressed her fingers to her lips. Then she looked away from him. “What are you doing here?”
“I didn’t want to leave it three weeks this time.”
“Before you kissed me and said something stupid?”
“To tell you that I want you,” he said heavily. “I want you, Marlowe. For as long as I can have you.”