Chapter 9
CHAPTER NINE
AVA
“Oh my god, I love this song,” Layla squeals across the table, spinning in her stool to see who requested Trisha Yearwood’s “She’s in Love With the Boy” at the jukebox on the other side of the bar.
Wells meets her gaze where he stands next to it, smirking, holding a hand out to show her a small pile of quarters in his palm. He shoots her a wink.
“Gross,” I whine.
Layla laughs, blowing him a kiss. “He’s pretty great.”
“Exactly my point.”
Layla turns back to me, eyes flashing, her dark curls framing her pretty face. “Don’t tell me you’re one of those types,” she says, still grinning.
“What types?”
“You know . . . the ‘good guys are so boring’ and ‘I love toxic bad boys’ type.”
Holding a hand over my heart, I let out a teasing scoff. “You’ve only known me for like, five minutes, and you’re accusing me of being attracted to toxic men?”
She shrugs. “I’ve known of you since middle school. When you skipped town, everyone lost their shit. I remember Maeve working herself into a tizzy trying to figure out where you went.”
I can’t help but grimace. “Perks of small-town living, huh? Everyone thinks your business is their business.”
Her eyes roll. “Girl, I know all about it.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah.” She tilts her head. “Do you know how Wells and I got together?”
I shake my head. “No clue. Why?”
Her eyes widen, like this truly surprises her. “I mean, I guess that makes sense. You haven’t been here.” She leans in closer. “I planned on marrying his best friend.”
“No way!” Layla might wear shit kickers around the ranch, but she’s got the poise of a prim and proper southern lady. I’d never expect a scandal like that involving her.
Her face grows solemn. “And then he died.”
“Oh fuck,” I say. “What happened?”
“Car accident. He’d been drinking.”
“Shit. I’m so sorry.”
“Thanks. But there’s more.” Layla pauses and gives an exasperated Where do I even start sigh. “The Bennetts threw his celebration of life here at the bar, and his other girlfriend showed up.”
“Oh hell no!” I screech. Saddlebrook Falls certainly has its share of drama, but I’ve never heard of anything like this.
“It was fucking horrible,” she mutters, sighing. “But, Wells helped me through it. And we realized there were feelings there between us. Well, I realized there were feelings.”
Something small cracks open in my chest. “He already knew?”
She smiles. “He had them the whole time. Kept it to himself because of his loyalty to Jason.”
“Damn.” I look at Wells again. He’s behind the bar now, a white towel slung casually over his shoulder, laughing at something Kasey says.
I look at Kasey too.
His mouth is turned up in a comfortable smile, the shape of his eyes tilted in humor.
His lips are parted, jaw relaxed, shoulders confident as they stretch the chest of his half-buttoned Henley.
It’s nothing at all like the way he spent the day, wound so tight I thought he might snap.
It was obvious he didn’t want me to be on the ranch, and if I’m being honest, I’m not sure why I pressed it, like a thumb in a sore bruise.
Maybe I’m holding on to some shred of hope that if I stick it out, he’ll pull off some of that armor and we can find each other again, at least in friendship.
We’re going to be spending the next few months together; we might as well find a way to enjoy it.
But I saw the way he frowned when I kicked off my sandals in the barn, moving around the cement floor barefoot as I helped him tack up two of the horses.
And I saw the way he threw a look toward Rhett, as if to say Don’t you dare fucking ask when he thought I wasn’t looking.
Like he might be embarrassed by all of this, having to entertain his ex-girlfriend in an uncomfortable and very fake marriage just to keep the vultures away from his family.
He was quiet and broody, pinched with discomfort. And still, I wouldn’t leave.
“Aren’t you ever worried that he’ll end things?” I ask Layla, eyes bouncing back to Wells. “That he’ll break your heart?”
She looks mildly surprised by the question. “No. Not at all.”
“How?” I ask, a smidge incredulous. “How can you be so sure?”
She considers. “If I’ve learned anything it’s that nothing’s guaranteed, so why spend life anticipating the worst things that could happen?
Wells could wake up at any moment and realize he doesn’t love me anymore, and it would break me, for sure.
But waiting for it every day could very well be worse than it actually happening.
I need to hold on to the joy and love and hope of it all, for my own sanity. You know?”
“I’m familiar with that kind of anticipation,” I admit.
Hell, it’s why I left. I couldn’t bear the thought of either of us wanting an out one day, so I got ahead of it.
Ripped off the Band-Aid. There’ve been plenty of days that I regretted it, but also plenty where I’ve felt justified.
The way we burned . . . it was too hot, too explosive to be healthy.
“Hey, girls!”
Layla and I turn our attention to the freckled girl heading right for us, her strawberry-blonde hair brushing against the tops of her shoulders. “Hey, Liv!” Layla says, pulling out a stool beside her.
The girl sinks down into it, her patchwork quilt purse sliding off her as she smiles at me. “You must be Ava,” she says, tucking her hair behind her ear before holding her hand out to me. “I’m Olivia.”
“I remember you,” I say. I’d been at the bakery next to her mom’s café enough growing up. “You’re Rhett’s girl, now?”
She beams. “Yeah. Still feels a little weird to say.”
“More like he’s her man,” Layla says with a burst of laughter. “I’m not sure I’ve ever seen a guy so whipped.”
Olivia grins. “He’s still making up for . . . well, you know.”
“Ah,” Layla says, nodding. She turns to me. “So . . . tell us all about it. I want to know every detail.”
“About what?”
She laughs, not unkindly. “You and Kasey! What was he like as a teenager? I was too young to know much of anything back then.”
“Me too,” Olivia says.
Wells materializes out of thin air, dropping three cold bottles of beer on the table. “You ladies need anything else?”
“Oh,” I say, eyeing the beer. “Uh, I’m actually okay—gotta drive later.”
“Okay,” he says. “Sure.” He picks up the bottle closest to me and takes a long swig before kissing Layla on the cheek and disappearing again.
“Damn, he’s whipped too,” I jest, watching him stride back to the narrow alley behind the bar. “Anyway, Kasey was . . . good,” I say. “He had a real good heart and was very protective of me. I was a stick of dynamite, blowing up his life.”
“What do you mean?” Olivia asks.
I sigh. “I just always felt like I was ruining him. I was never good at following rules and he’d end up in the middle of all my messes.”
“It couldn’t have been easy, you being the sheriff’s daughter,” Layla points out.
“Oh my gosh, that man has a stick so far up his ass when it comes to the Bennetts!” Olivia exclaims before shooting me an apologetic look. “No offense.”
I laugh. “None taken. And you’re right—he hated that we were dating, which only brought more heat on Kasey. His parents didn’t love it either, knowing who my father is. We’d have to sneak around just to see each other.”
“Why did you leave?” Layla asks. “Was it because of Kasey?”
Yes.
No.
“I was afraid, I think, of what my life would look like if I never made it out of here.” It’s vague enough that I don’t feel so raw letting the words out, but it still feels heavy to admit out loud.
“I get that,” Layla admits. “But you’re back now. Maybe . . . maybe there are still feelings between you both?”
The insinuation has my heart catapulting. I frown, looking back and forth between the girls. “Our feelings are long dead and buried,” I say bluntly. “Trust me.”
Layla’s mouth pinches.
“Sorry if this is overstepping,” Olivia chimes in, her voice lowering as she leans in, “but Rhett told me you and Kasey were engaged for real once.”
Layla’s attention snaps to Olivia as the words hit me like a slap in the face. Rhett knows? I mean, why wouldn’t he? There’s no reason to think Kasey wouldn’t confide in at least one of his brothers about it, even if the whole thing lasted all of five minutes.
“Does this arrangement have anything to do with . . . You know, that?” she continues. “Like maybe trying again?”
“Who’s asking?” I throw back. It comes out harsher than I mean for it to, but it’s hard not to feel affected by the weight of history I’ve been trying to keep from falling on top of me.
Olivia straightens, her eyes widening. “Me,” she assures. “Rhett didn’t ask me to, or anything—”
“Look,” I say, glancing around at the tables full of other patrons and keeping my voice quiet.
“Kasey and I have history, sure. But it’s been ten years, and we’re two completely different people.
This wedding isn’t about anything more than convincing the rest of town that we aren’t committing any felonies with a fraudulent marriage so the Bennetts can keep the ranch, even though that’s exactly what this is, okay?
I knew Kasey wouldn’t want to lie to his family about it, but outside of them and us three sitting here, no one else can know the truth or we risk all of this going up in flames.
But just because we’re pretending doesn’t mean anything is there, either. ”
They nod. “Understood,” Layla says.
“Got it,” Olivia echoes.
Silence wraps around us before the sound of rowdy cheers comes from the bar, where two patrons are locked into a game of quarters.
“Still,” Layla eventually says, “this is a wedding, and you are a bride, right?”
I stare at her. “Yeah . . . I guess so.”
She smiles softly. “Let Olivia and me be a part of it. I’m sure there are things we can do to help plan? It’ll be at the church, right?”
“That’s the plan,” I grumble. “We just have to pass Pastor Brown’s tests first.”