Chapter 10
Chapter Ten
BAYLOR
Standing in the middle of her bathroom, so close to her that I could kiss her, I wonder what the fuck I’m doing. I need to walk past her and get the fuck out of this place—out of her space.
I’m about to wrap her in my arms, kiss her, then devour her and fuck her until she screams my name. I’m about to take her, and considering I was close to claiming her as my own the last time I was with her, I don’t think I’ll be able to hold back this time.
Being with Emily Brown the first time was more about luring her away from Beckett so he could get with Maisie without any distractions. I knew they’d been together here and there, just another one of Beckett’s women whom he was using to avoid life.
The life he wanted, the life he could have, and the future that he was scared shitless of. It was a bunch of fucking excuses, but now it’s done and over. He’s married to Maisie now, and they’re going to have a baby.
That is what our parents always wanted and the reason they kept the ranch going through the lean years. For us. For our futures. For our children. Now that I stand in front of Emily, I can’t help but imagine her as my future.
I know I shouldn’t.
But I do.
There is something here. I can feel it. And judging by the way she’s been watching me, she does, too. I’ve done my absolute best to make it clear that I’m uninterested, even if I’m very fucking interested.
It’s worked.
She stopped coming out to the bonfires, stopped smiling at me in public. It’s made it very easy to continue avoiding her.
But standing right here in this small space of her bathroom, I’m not sure how much longer I can avoid her. And I don’t know if I want to any longer.
So I do something that I know I’ll probably regret later, but the way she said she couldn’t afford to get a forty-dollar faucet, combined with the amount of money she’d already spent on plumbing, I don’t think she could really afford to feed me right now.
It’s not that I don’t want her to cook for me.
It’s that I don’t think she’s doing very well financially, and I don’t want to put her in a tougher spot.
She’s got herself in some shit with this place, and it’s not a great place to begin with, so the fact that she’s essentially putting duct tape on a building that’s falling to pieces isn’t helping her situation.
I want to at least do what I can here. Which is to feed her a decent meal.
“Put some shoes on. Let’s go get something.”
Her eyes widen, and I watch as she blinks a few times, her lips parted in what I can only describe as awe as she stares at me, probably unsure of exactly what I’ve just said. I wasn’t very clear, so I dip my chin in a slight nod before I speak again, this time leaving no room for interpretation.
“Let me take you out to eat, Em.”
“Why?” she asks before she snaps her lips closed and presses them together in a tight line.
I shrug a shoulder, my gaze searching hers for a moment. “Don’t know, babe. Figured it might be nice—you and me, sharing a meal, getting to know one another.”
“We’ve known each other our whole lives, Baylor,” she whispers, then winces, almost as if she’s not proud of that, of me knowing her my whole life.
I don’t know why she wouldn’t be.
Emily Brown may have had a reputation, but it was never because she was a bad person or was mean in any way. It was always just about sex. She’s always been a kind person, which is probably the only reason nobody actually hates her in town.
She’s always worn a smile, even if it was a flirty one, but a smile nonetheless.
And I’ve never heard of her taking anyone’s man or anything like that.
In fact, the rumors seem to be just that—rumors.
Emily was shy when we were together, definitely not the sex kitten she portrays herself to be in public.
“We have known of one another our whole lives, but I have a feeling I don’t really know a damn thing about you, Emily Brown.”
She lifts her chin, then excuses herself to change. She’s got a little smile on her face that she’s trying to hide from me. When she comes out of her bedroom, I’m surprised she didn’t do any more than put on a pair of shoes to go with me.
Now she’s sitting across from me at The Shed, and I can tell she’s a bit uncomfortable, probably because this is considered one of the nicest places around here to eat. She’s in shorts and a T-shirt with very little makeup, if any. I can’t quite tell, but I don’t think she’s ever looked prettier.
“I don’t even know what’s good here,” Emily whispers.
I almost laugh, mainly because I have no idea either. All I know is that Beckett and Maisie have come out here a few times and said it was good. No clue what they have or anything, because I didn’t care enough to ask. I hadn’t planned on bringing anyone here anyway.
Now that I’m sitting across the table from Emily at The Shed, I wish I had asked.
“Me neither. My brother has come here a few times, but I have no clue what he’s ordered. Never thought to ask.”
She smiles, then sinks her teeth into her bottom lip. “Well, let’s wing it. Maybe we’ll come across something new and exciting.”
Her words cause my own lips to curve up into a grin.
New and exciting. What a fucking understatement, to say the goddamn least. Shaking my head once, I flick my gaze down to the menu.
My eyes scan the items, then flick over to the prices.
I know the moment Emily realizes the cost of the food because I hear her hiss.
“Ignore the cost,” I mutter.
“Baylor,” she snaps.
It’s sharp but not loud. Nobody else has heard her but me. Slowly, I shift my gaze up to meet hers. I can read the sheer panic in her eyes. It’s expensive, but it’s not insanely priced. I’ve seen worse and paid more before.
“Order what you want.”
“Well, I’m telling you right now, this Caesar side salad is about all I can feel comfortable ordering.”
I snort, and thankfully, the waiter arrives before we can get into an argument, because there is no fucking way I’m bringing a woman, any woman, to a restaurant and letting her order a Caesar salad for any reason other than she just plain wants a salad.
“May I take your order?” he asks.
Before Emily can even open her mouth, I begin. “Yeah,” I start, “we’ll have two New York strips, medium-rare, a rib eye, rare, a baked potato, the roasted potatoes, an order of broccoli, an order of asparagus, two Caesar salads, and an order of the trio appetizer.”
The waiter writes everything down, nodding with each item I list, then he flicks his gaze up to meet mine. “Anything to drink aside from water?”
“I’ll have a light beer. Emily?” I ask.
She opens and closes her mouth a few times, then clears her throat before she orders a Coke.
Interesting. No alcohol. Although it doesn’t matter if she drinks or not, because I’m literally having one beer.
I won’t drive after any more than that, and I plan on being here over an hour, especially with as much food as I just ordered.
Plus, I’m going to get dessert.
When the waiter leaves, Emily gapes at me for longer than she probably realizes. “Baylor,” she hisses, “what the hell just happened?”
“I ordered some food. You can have whatever you want, but no way in fuck were you going to stress about the price of said food.”
“It’s way too much,” she whispers.
Reaching across the table, I take her hand, lacing my fingers with hers. “It’s not, Em. I don’t mind spending money on food, especially when it’s to feed a pretty lady sitting across from me.”