Tequila High

by Michelle Leighton

  So I play dumb. “Who?”

  “Nixon of course.”

  “Why would that matter?”

  “Oh, God! You’re seriously not playing it this way, are you? With me?”

  “I’m not playing anything. I wasn’t sure if you meant Nixon or Jason.”

  “Ewwww. I definitely didn’t mean Jason. He’s not welcome here. Ever.”

  “You don’t feel the same way about Nixon?”

  “Ummm. Not really.”

  “Well you should. He’s just as bad,” I point out petulantly.

  “You don’t actually believe that, do you?”

  No, I don’t. Not in the slightest. But I can’t tell Hannah that.

  “Doesn’t matter what I believe. What I know is that they’re both liars.”

  She’s quiet for a few seconds and then, “Plan to come home for Christmas. I’ll make sure it’s just family. No one else.”

  “What about all the dude ranch visitors? You can’t say that when our home has been turned into a hotel.”

  “I don’t think it’s as bad as you’re thinking, but there’s only one way to find out for sure. Just think about it, okay?”

  “I’ll think about it.” I can say that with confidence. I will think about it. Then I’ll decide it’s not smart. Then I’ll not go.

  “I’d never purposely lead you astray. You know that, right?”

  I frown. “Of course I do. Why would you say that?”

  “Just… come home, Haley. If you don’t trust anyone or anything else, trust me.” I don’t quite know what to say to that. Luckily, she wraps up our conversation and lets me off the hook. “I have to run. Got some puff pastries in the oven that need to come out.”

  “Okay. Have fun with that.”

  “Love you, sis.”

  “Love you, too.”

  I hang up the phone feeling sadder and lonelier than I have in the last ten years. Just one more thing I blame Nixon Holt for.

  A surge of anger wells in me, and I embrace it. I cling to it, I perpetuate it because it’s the best relief I can get from my heartbreak. Maybe that’s just what I need—to learn to hate Nixon as much as I hated Jason. It worked before. Surely that can work again.

  33

  Nixon

  I sit in the same bar where I met Haley, having a drink with my older brother, Tyson. My mood is good. I’m optimistic. I chose this location on purpose. I’m going to catch up with my big bro and then I’m going to find a gorgeous drink to chase away this hangover. Tomorrow, I’ll be free, and I very much look forward to that.

  “Dad said things didn’t go quite like you two planned at the Brandt place. What happened?”

  I wave him off, taking a drink from my beer. “Long story that I don’t want to get into tonight.”

  “Fair enough, fair enough.” He falls quiet for a few seconds before he asks, “You okay?”

  “Fine. Why?”

  He narrows his light gray eyes on me. “I don’t know. Can’t put my finger on it, but something seems off.”

  “Nothing’s off.”

  “Maybe you’re off. I’ve been saying it for years.”

  I flick a peanut at him. It hits him on the cheek. He brushes it off the table. “Asshole.”

  “What have you been up to in… Where was it you went again?”

  “Italy.”

  “That’s right. You’re just not going to let this other thing go, are you?”

  “You know as well as I do that there’s a market for this stuff. We just have to do it right, with the right people and the right product.”

  I raise my glass to him. “Whatever you say, brother.”

  “I’m headed to Colorado next week. There’s a shop up there I’m interested in.”

  A sharp pang of want rockets through me. Irritation follows on it heels. “I don’t need the details,” I snap.

  I take a long pull of my beer. So what, now I can’t even think of Colorado without it being ruined by a woman?

  Oh hell no.

  Hell. No.

  I tip back my glass and don’t lower it until it’s empty.

  “Jesus, Nixon, slow down! You’re not in college.”

  I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand and scan the bar for the cute little brunette who caught my eye earlier. When I find her, I see that she’s watching me. I smile. She smiles.

  “Hey!”

  It’s Tyson, trying to get my attention. “What?”

  He doesn’t look very pleased with me at the moment. Lucky for me, I don’t give a shit if he’s pleased or not.

  “What the hell is going on with you?”

  “I’ve got something I need to work out.”

  “Mind cluing me in on what it is?”

  I look back toward the bar for the girl. I’m ready, ready to get her and leave this place—along with the remnant of Haley—behind. She’s gone, though. I don’t see her in her spot.

  “Let me clarify. I was going to work something out, but you ruined it. Thanks for that.”

  Tyson leans back in his chair, throwing his hands up. “I give up. Talking to you is like talking to a schizophrenic, man.”

  Before I can spit a retort, I spot a dark head over Tyson’s shoulder. I grin when I see the hot girl I’ve been watching. She’s carrying two shot glasses, each with a lime on the salted rim.

  Tequila.

  Of course. Just my luck.

  “Make yourself scarce for a minute. Let me do my work.”

  “Work? What are you—” He stops when a female hip appears by his right shoulder. He glances up at her and stares for a few seconds then shoots me an amused look of understanding. Now he gets it. “I’ll, uh, I’ll be back. I’m gonna hit the head and then order us another drink.”

  “He might not be here when you get back,” the brunette warns in a sultry voice.

  I hike a brow at that. This is better than I’d hoped. She’s not even going to make me work for it.

  Tyson stands and holds his chair for her. “Keep him for as long as you want.”

  He nods to me, I nod back, and then I turn my attention to the beautiful woman in front of me.

  “I’m Charlize.”

  “Like the actress?”

  “Yep. Like that.”

  “Nixon.”

  “Nixon. I like that. Sounds…dark.” She sets the shot glasses down in front of her, watching me from under her lashes. “I thought you looked a little thirsty. Can I interest you in a little something to satisfy that thirst, Nixon?”

  She slides a shot across the table to me. I pause.

  I pause and then I get pissed at myself because I do.

  I grit my teeth, and I wait, wait for that empty feeling in my stomach to be replaced with something else. Anything else. And it is. Within a few more seconds, a ruthless kind of determination sets in. This will be the end of Haley for me. This is me being over it, being over her. I’m going to drink this and wash away her taste, and then I’m going to take this girl back to my hotel room and wash away her memory. Tomorrow will be a new day.

  I raise the tequila in a toast to my companion. My smile feels brighter than usual when I say, “To the cure for a hangover.”

  She shrugs and raises her glass. “I’ll take it. To the cure!”

  We both toss back the shot. The liquor burns all the way down, searing the flesh of my throat. That burn I can take; it’s the other one that takes me by surprise. There’s a burn in my chest, something deep and unexpected. The taste of tequila on my tongue doesn’t wash away anything. It only seems to stir up what I already can’t get away from. It stirs up flashes of dark red hair, shining hazel eyes, and a smile that turns my stomach inside out. It’s all as fresh as if she were standing right in front of me. Or lying right beneath me.

  I growl low in my throat. That image, the one of her lying under me, eyes fixed to mine, mouth open in pleasure… Christ, I can’t get away from it. Every time it enters my mind, it’s like a punch to the solar plexus.

  �
�Are you okay?”

  I open eyes I hadn’t meant to close and find Charlize staring at me. She’s gorgeous with her dark, silky hair and her almond-shaped blue eyes, and she’s got a body to match, too. Long legs, thick curves, tight ass. But something’s missing. And I know what it is.

  I swallow.

  I swallow the flavor of tequila. I swallow the acidity of memories. I swallow the fact that I have no interest in this woman, no matter how hot she is. It’s not who or what she is; it’s who she isn’t.

  “You know what? Let me buy you another shot, one you can give to someone else. I… What I really need tonight is to drink alone.”

  I smile my apology at her. She balks at first. I’m sure she doesn’t get turned down very often. But then she shrugs, scoots her glass out of the way, and stands. “Don’t worry about it. I hope she’s worth it.”

  I want to ask what she’s talking about or maybe how she knows, but she disappears into the crowd. I instantly stop looking for her. Instead, I go to the bar and order an entire bottle of tequila. If I can’t get rid of Haley with a replacement, I’ll drown her out instead.

  34

  Haley

  It’s coming up on a month since I left the ranch. I’m making myself count the days. I count them, so I’ll know how long it’s been since I’ve heard from Nixon. It’s the best way to keep my rage fueled. It’s the best way not to allow myself to forget that he lied to me, that he used me like every other man in my life, and that I’m better off without him. Nixon wanted me sexually from day one. He didn’t try to hide that. I just shouldn’t have given it to him. He got what he wanted, and I got a broken heart. That’s why I gave up any hope for him. Now, the only hope I’m clinging to is the hope that my fury will one day burn away my love.

  I’ve thrown myself into work, focusing day and night on ways to improve Tumbleweeds. Exclusive manufacturers, top designers, better selection—my vision for the store grows by the minute. I keep waiting for the enthusiasm to grow as well, but it hasn’t. I know what the problem is. My heart hasn’t yet caught up to what my head knows. It hasn’t bought into the rage yet. It’s still wallowing, wallowing in long looks and steamy kisses and the kind of passion that digs deep and doesn’t want to let go. But it will catch up. My heart will realize soon enough that my best chance forward is to hate him and move on. I refuse to give up until it does. Some part of me knows that if I don’t get past this soon, I’ll never recover. And that’s just unacceptable.

  I’m holding tight to my resolve when I hear the gentle purring sound of my phone’s ring tone. I left it in the living room. It stops ringing by the time I get to it, so I hit the home button to check for messages.

  My heart stops.

  I recognize the number. As much as I’d like to forget it, I haven’t. Not yet anyway.

  It’s Nixon.

  But why would he be calling? It’s been weeks without a peep from him. Why now?

  My first thought is that something is wrong, that there’s been an accident at the ranch or something has happened to a member of my family and no one can get away to call. But before my pulse can bump up to breakneck speed, my rational side kicks in and reminds me that the odds of that being the case are astronomical. This is the age of cell phones and all kinds of virtual communication. The mere idea that not one of them would be able to reach me is almost laughable. And if that’s the case, that must mean that Nixon is calling for another reason.

  As I’m staring at the phone, I see a tiny red one pop up beside my voicemail box. It’s the number of new voice mails.

  I didn’t listen to his others. I knew I couldn’t bare it. I doubt I can now, but when I go to delete it, my finger trembles. It hovers over the button, but I can’t seem to press it.

  I gasp when, before I’m even fully aware of doing it, my finger taps the play button. A beat later and Nixon’s voice is oozing out of the speaker and into my ears.

  “Haley, uh, it’s Nixon. I don’t know if you’ll even listen to this, but I’m leaving it anyway. I can’t… I don’t…” He pauses to sigh. “I just have to try, I guess. I want to start with I’m sorry. Because I am. I’m sorry that I let you down, that I wasn’t the man you needed me to be. I couldn’t see it then. I couldn’t understand why you were so upset, but I want you to know I see it now. I see how someone could’ve hurt you enough to cast a shadow on everyone and everything around you. I understand that more than I can explain. And I…I wish I could go back. If I could, I’d do things differently. I know you probably won’t believe that, but it’s true. Haley, I—” His voice stops and the line goes silent for so long, I think he might’ve gotten cut off. But then, like the rasp of velvet, it scratches through the air again. Through the air and straight into my heart. “Please. I don’t know how else I can get through to you except that one word. Please. Please, Haley. Call me back.”

  When his voice disappears this time, it never comes back on. The silence drags on for almost a full minute, like he’s there on the other end, waiting. But then I hear a click and a beep, and I know he’s really gone this time.

  I sit back, stunned. Stunned and happy and heartsick and confused. Oh, God, how I want to believe him! I want so much to trust him, to run back into his arms and know that he won’t hurt me. But I can’t. He’s already given me reason to doubt him. Giving in at this point would be insane.

  I sit back and stare at my phone. My hand twitches several times as I reach to tap the play button again. The longer I stare at it with his voice still fresh in my mind, the more I regret listening to it in the first place.

  My soul aches with want, with betrayal, with hopelessness. I fight the sting behind my eyes as long as I can, but then I just give in and let the tears come. I feel myself fall back to square one, back to the stage when the weight of the pain felt like it was crushing my bones. This is why I didn’t listen to his other messages. I can’t let him in this way, not even a crack. He will rip my world and my heart wide open if I do.

  35

  Nixon

  My truck seems to follow the road without my guidance, like it’s been waiting for almost two months to come back this way. I pause when I drive under the arch that announces the Circle B Ranch. The day I drove under it with Haley, I had no idea how much she was going to change my life. I expected a nice distraction, maybe a hot little affair. I never would’ve suspected she’d get her claws into my heart and refuse to let go.

  I sigh and put my foot back on the accelerator. Maybe this trip will be different. Maybe this will be step one in winning her back.

  I pull up in front of the house. I don’t intend to stay long, so I don’t go around to the back like I used to. I try the knob, but it’s locked, so I knock. I don’t know who to expect to come to the door, but whoever it is, I’m not leaving until he or she tells me where Haley is.

  I knock three times before I get an answer. Finally, it’s Hope that opens up. Her brows draw together when she sees it’s me. “Daddy’s not here.”

  “I’m not here to see him.”

  “Oh,” she says, leaning against the doorjamb and crossing her arms over her chest. “Then what do you want?”

  “I want to know where Haley is.”

  “If she wanted you to know, she’d have told you.”

  “Look—”

  “No, you look. You don’t know what she’s been through. She needed someone to love and to trust, and you betrayed her. You don’t get to know where she is.”

  “I didn’t betray her. I—”

  “You lied to her. It’s the same thing.”

  “I didn’t lie to her. I just didn’t tell her everything.”

  “Still the same thing,” she says vehemently, flinging her arms up. “Why do you men think—”

  “Hope, please. For the love of God, just tell me how to find her. I’m not going to hurt her. I just want to talk to her.”

  “Why? There’s nothing left to say. She knows what you did. You aren’t denying it. It’s done. Walk away, Nixon.
Just walk away.”

  She starts to close the door, but I put my hand out to stop it. She glares out at me through her pale green eyes, and I meet them head-on. “I can’t. Don’t you understand? I can’t walk away. Please, Hope.”

  I’m pleading with her, and I hope she can see it. We stare at each other in silence for what seems like an eternity before she softens. I see it first in her eyes, expressive like her sister’s, and then in the way that the ice holding her upright seems to melt a little. “Do you love her?”

  “That’s between Haley and me, but no one will ever know if you don’t tell me where to find her.”

  She eyes me for so long I start to wonder if she’s going to answer, or if she’s simply going to stare at me until I give up and leave. But then she finally cracks. “Promise me you aren’t going to hurt her.”

  “I would never hurt her on purpose, Hope. Not ever.”

  She searches my eyes like she’s trying to see into my thoughts, into my motives. I stand still and let her. I have nothing to hide. I’m a desperate man. If she can’t see that, she can’t see me right now.

  “Fine, but if this backfires, I’m coming for you.” She steps toward me and sticks her finger in my chest. “I might be young, and I might seem easy-going, but let me tell you something. I’m like a mama bear when it comes to my family. You mess with them, you mess with me. And if you tangle with me, you will walk away with scars. I promise.”

  I can’t help grinning. These sisters are something else. I raise three fingers. “I’ve got good intentions. Scout’s honor.”

  She swats my hand down. “I’m sure a guy like you was never a scout.”

  “You’re wrong about that. You’re wrong about me.”