Falling for the Cowboy Dad
Page 5
Billy shot Grace a smile. “I’ll get her a personal-size cheese pizza, and you and I can order something else.”
“That sounds good to me.” Her smile warmed, and they turned their attention to the menu.
“Do you still like sausage and tomato?” Billy asked.
“No, you like tomato,” she retorted. “But add some mushrooms, and you have yourself a deal.”
Billy met her gaze. “I missed this.”
“Bickering over pizza toppings?” She smiled slightly.
“Yeah,” he admitted. “We always did have fun, didn’t we?”
“We always did,” she said, and that reserved look in her eyes softened. “I missed you, too.”
Did this count as making up for whatever he’d done to tick her off? He hoped so. The waitress came by with some crayons and activity sheets for Poppy.
“Those might be too old for her,” the waitress said with an apologetic smile.
“She’ll be fine,” Billy replied, and slid the pages over to Poppy, who scooped them up enthusiastically. Then she opened her little box of crayons and set to work.
The waitress left with their order, and Billy leaned back in his seat.
“So, for that extra tutoring—when do you want to do it?” Billy asked.
“After school would be perfect,” Grace replied. “But I think you should be there for the lessons. She’s been having some real separation anxiety, and having you there would just let her relax a lot more. I mean...if that doesn’t get in the way of your work schedule.”
Actually, that was perfect for him. He’d have a chance to watch those lessons, maybe pick something up.
“That’s fine for me,” he said. “I mean, whatever’s best for the kid, right?”
Grace smiled. “Right.”
“So...starting tomorrow?” he asked hopefully.
“Sure. Just come by at three and we’ll get started. I’ll be able to show you a few things to give her some challenges at home, too.”
“Okay.” He felt a little rush of anticipation. “That would be great.”
Grace looked over to where Poppy was working with her crayons, her gaze softening.
“So, fill me in...” Billy said. “What have you been up to?”
Grace’s attention came back to him.
“Well, I finished my degree the same year you and Tracy left for Denver,” Grace said. “And then I, uh—” She glanced down. “I went to Denver, too.”
Billy frowned, her words sinking into his gut. “Wait, so you were in Denver the last three years?”
“Yes.” She raised her eyes to meet his gaze again, and she looked almost defiant. “I’ve been substitute teaching, and Denver had more opportunities.”
“Yeah...” Billy leaned forward, planting his elbows on the table. “So when I was trying to reach you, you were actually in the city.”
“Yes.” Pink tinged her cheeks.
“So how come we never saw you?” he demanded. “Why didn’t we get together?”
“I was busy?” She shrugged weakly. “We all were busy, Billy. You and Tracy had your life together, and I was trying to do the same.”
“Busy?” he shot back. “That’s a cop-out, and you know it. I called you a few times. I even left voice mails, and you never called me back. I thought you were here in Eagle’s Rest that whole time!”
“You could have tried to visit. You would have found out otherwise,” she replied with a small smile.
“Yeah, Tracy...” He stopped himself. How much to even say? Tracy had been jealous of his friendship with Grace. If he’d suggested going back to Eagle’s Rest to see her, Tracy would have picked a fight. He’d learned pretty quickly that Grace was a sore spot for his girlfriend, so he tried not to rock the boat too much. Still, he’d called. He’d tried to reach out to his friend on his own.
“It’s okay,” Grace said. “Look—you and Tracy left for Denver for a reason. You needed a chance to just be the two of you.”
“I never once said I wanted that!” he shot back.
“We don’t always say what we want, do we?” she replied with a shrug. “I was giving you space.”
Billy looked over at Poppy, who was busy working on a maze, her tongue sticking out the side of her mouth the way it did when she was concentrating.
So Grace had been ignoring him on purpose. And that stung, because when he’d dialed her number, it had been with a sincere desire to connect with her. She’d been his best friend for years, and he had needed more than just a girlfriend in Tracy—he’d needed his rock, his confidant. He’d needed Grace!
“Did Tracy say something to you?” he asked, still trying to sort this out in his head.
“She didn’t have to.” Grace licked her lips. “Billy, you were moving in with her. That’s a huge step, and you had to expect there to be some changes that came along with it. What? Were we supposed to keep up like we used to?”
Yes. That’s exactly what he’d hoped. They’d sorted out their friendship through his girlfriends in the past.
“Meaning what?” he asked.
“Movies together, cooking steaks at my place, calling each other day and night when we came across stuff we thought the other would like...?” She shook her head. “That would have been incredibly inappropriate. You needed to be doing that stuff with Tracy, not me.”
“Fine. We could have adjusted out routines a bit,” he conceded. “But you cut me off. Like completely. Are you saying that a civil cup of coffee was suddenly out of bounds?”
“I’m saying...” Grace sighed. “Billy, I couldn’t be your third wheel.”
“Third wheel,” he scoffed. “You never cared about that before. You were my best friend!”
“Tracy was different. I needed to take some space for myself, get my own life in order. I’m sorry. I know it was a little heavy-handed of me, but I didn’t want to be your pal for the next decade while you moved your life forward with Tracy. You were right—it was time to grow up.”
“So, you’re saying you couldn’t find a boyfriend with me around,” he said with a small smile. “Am I that intimidating? Would he pale in comparison or something?”
Grace didn’t look amused. “I’m saying that you had Tracy, and I needed to find my own significant other, too. So I did what I needed to. For me.”
“Right.” He nodded, sobering. A lot more had changed than he’d realized. Somehow, in the last three years of missing Grace, he’d never figured that she’d walked away because it was best for her. “So, did you?”
“Did I what?”
“Find your guy.” He eyed her, wondering why he felt a pang of jealousy, even as he asked it.
“A few.” She laughed softly. “None that stuck.”
“Okay.” And he was glad to hear that, somehow. He knew it made him a Neanderthal to even feel this way, but Grace had always felt like “his.”
“Look, I get it would be hard to watch me go start a life with another woman.”
“Oh, really?” she said with a short laugh.
“It would be hard for me to see some guy take over...everything...when it came to you,” he conceded.
“You’d have been fine,” she said dryly.
“Oh, come on! We had all sorts of little traditions, didn’t we? Like ice cream when one of us broke up with someone.”
“When you broke up with someone,” she countered.
“Fine, when I broke up with someone,” he said. “And what about making steaks in the fry pan—that was ours.”
“That was,” she agreed. “Actually, that was mine. You couldn’t fry a decent steak if your life depended on it.”
He chuckled. “My point is, if I had to watch you move on... I might have felt a little territorial over your pepper-fried steak.”
“My steak. Really.” This time, there w
as a glint of humor in her eye.
“Hey, you make a fine steak, woman,” he said with mock solemnity. “And to have another man sampling that tender, perfectly fried goodness... I’m just saying, he might have felt it was weird if I demanded steak, too, whenever he got some.”
Grace laughed and shook her head. It was a relief to see that tension break.
“I’m sorry,” he added.
“For what?”
“For whatever I did or said that made you feel like you had to give me space.”
Grace met his gaze, then shook her head. “Billy, it was just time. I needed a boyfriend, not a buddy. I needed a guy who wanted more than my steak.”
Somehow she looked a lot less like a buddy now, though. Gone were the oversize T-shirts and the messy ponytails. She looked...feminine. Soft. These new clothes made a difference. He had to keep his eyes from moving down her figure. But that wasn’t the right thing to be noticing right now, either, because he wasn’t looking for romance, and even if he were, he wasn’t about to mess with the best friendship he’d ever had.
The pizzas arrived, and Poppy looked moodily at the personal-size cheese pizza that Billy handed over to her. The medium pizza to be shared between him and Grace was put in the center.
“I don’t want that,” Poppy said, staring at the pizza in front of her.
“What?” Billy looked over at his daughter, and he could see her lip starting to quiver as she stared down at the steaming pizza. “You like cheese pizza.”
“No! It’s a little circle! I want a big pizza, in a triangle!” Poppy said.
“You can have some of ours,” Billy said with a shrug.
“No!” Her voice was rising now, and spots of red appeared on her cheeks. Billy felt a wave of panic. What was happening here? “I don’t want this!”
“Poppy,” he said, lowering his voice. “Come on. It’s pizza. Who cares what shape it’s in, right?”
In response, Poppy started to cry—but not a quiet cry like he’d seen from her in the past; it was a loud, wailing cry that echoed through the restaurant.
“Poppy, seriously!” he snapped. “Stop that!”
That didn’t seem to help, because Poppy threw herself back onto the bench and wailed all the louder.
“I don’t want that!” she howled, and Billy shot Grace a horrified look. Here it was—the misbehavior he didn’t know how to handle.
“What do I do?” he demanded.
Grace shrugged. A lot of help she was right now! Billy could see the glares of other patrons boring into him, and he looked at the pizza, then at his daughter. Whipping out his wallet, he pulled out enough cash to cover the bill and then some, dropped it on the table, then reached over and scooped Poppy up the way he would a puppy. She flailed her arms and legs, connecting with the table and rattling the plates until he could stand up with her.
“Could we get this to go?” Grace asked, her voice rising above the din. The waitress removed the food from the table, and Billy could feel his anger simmering.
What on earth was this?
“Poppy!” he said firmly. “It’s pizza, for crying out loud!”
Poppy was no longer willing to even use words, and she howled as Billy attempted to get her back into her jacket. It didn’t work, and he ended up wrapping it around her burrito-style, and pinning her arms to her sides as she wailed into his ear.
The other diners glared in his direction, muttered, and one teenager seemed to be recording it on his cell phone. Great—now his parenting failure could be posted online somewhere. He stalked toward the door and marched outside, not even pausing to see what Grace decided to do. The cold air slapped them, and Poppy paused in her howling, took a few breaths and then started up again.
The door opened behind him, and Grace emerged with two pizza boxes. She shot him a serene smile.
“What is this?” he barked, struggling to keep a good hold on his daughter, lest he drop her in her wailing fit. Her face was blotchy and wet with tears, and she was surprisingly strong, arching her back against his grip as she drummed her winter boots against his thigh.
“That, Billy, is a tantrum,” Grace said with a shrug. “Get used to those. They come with the territory.”
He couldn’t say that Poppy hadn’t warned him before that she wasn’t in the mood for this. But he’d wanted to see Grace, and even with this tantrum, it had been worth it.
* * *
GRACE WATCHED BILLY as he stood there with his daughter screaming in his arms. There wasn’t much she could do—Billy was already doing it. She didn’t envy him this part of the parenting job. But it looked like Poppy had just reached her limit of what she could take for one day, and Grace’s heart went out to the poor kid. She wasn’t very old, and her whole life had been turned upside down. This tantrum was due.
“She’ll cry herself out,” Grace said, raising her voice to be heard. “You’re doing fine.”
“I’m not doing anything!” he retorted, and Billy looked around, mildly panicked.
Grace just shrugged. It was hard to argue anything over that piercing wail, and Grace stood there with the pizzas balanced in front of her, the aroma of cheese, sausage and tomato sauce making her stomach rumble. Poppy might not have wanted that pizza, but Grace was starving.
After a couple of minutes, Poppy started to calm down, and then she subsided into some shuddering sighs and dropped her head against her father’s shoulder.
“Are you cold, Poppy?” Grace asked quietly. She put the pizzas down on the hood of the truck and stepped closer to give Billy a hand.
“Let’s get you into that jacket,” she murmured, and Billy adjusted the girl in his arms so that Grace could maneuver Poppy into her coat and zip it up. Then Grace wiped the tears from Poppy’s face and looked into those tired, sad little eyes.
“I don’t want it...” Poppy whispered.
“I know, sweetie,” Grace said softly. “I think you’ve had enough, huh?” Poppy didn’t answer, and Grace looked up at Billy with a rueful smile. “I think our evening is over.”
“Yeah... Sorry.” Billy rubbed a hand over his eyes. “I didn’t mean for all this to... I mean...”
“Billy, this happens,” Grace said. “Welcome to parenting. I think you count as properly initiated now.”
Billy laughed softly, and she felt a wave of relief. That’s what she’d been aiming at—making him feel better. He met her gaze, and he shot her one of those boyish grins of his.
“Thanks, Gracie. You’re the best.”
Yeah. That’s what he’d always said—and it had never meant what she wanted it to mean.
Grace tried not to think about Billy the next day, as she taught her roomful of rambunctious four-year-olds, but it didn’t work. Dinner last night had been a little too much like old times, where they’d had so much fun together and even everyday occurrences had turned into something memorable.
Back then she would read too much into every little gesture and she’d jumped every time he called. She’d put her own plans aside if he wanted to get together, because she wanted to. He’d been her priority, even if she wasn’t always his. His girlfriends had always come first—as was expected. They’d suggest some romantic date, and he’d cast Grace that boyish grin and say, “Rain check? You know I’m good for it.” And she’d had to pretend she didn’t mind. So when he did ask her to do something just the two of them, she made the time because she missed him.
Poppy’s tantrum had broken off those old, familiar feelings—and Grace was grateful for that. She’d needed the reality check. This was not old times. Back then she could remember going home after hanging out with him, sifting through the details of her evening, wondering if he felt something more this time... When he gave her a hug goodbye, had he held her just a little bit longer? Or was that her imagination? Maybe he meant something more when he said, “You’re the best, Gr
acie.” Maybe he’d finally recognized that she was the one for him...
Dumb. That was what she’d been. She wasn’t going to put herself through that kind of misery for any man ever again. She’d been stupid before—seeing romantic potential in a man who’d never seen it in her.
Because he hadn’t needed years of friendship to see more in Tracy. Tracy had been new in town, and she and Grace had been chummy at their office job at city hall. They’d gotten along well, confided in each other over coffee after work. So Tracy knew that Grace was in love with her buddy, and that had hurt—Tracy’s immediate and enthusiastic betrayal when it came to a chance with Billy. And it hadn’t taken more than two or three times seeing Tracy for Billy to set his sights on the leggy blonde.
“What does she like? What would impress her?” Billy had asked. “Is she single?”
“Single? Yes...but, not really your type,” Grace had hedged.
“Trust me, Gracie, she’s my type,” he’d said with a grin. “Come on. What’s so wrong with her? Or is it me? Am I the wolf in this situation?”
By that time, Grace had seen some new sides to Tracy’s personality—including her ability to betray a friend.
“She’s a bit selfish, honestly,” she’d told him.
Tracy had been the kind of woman who snapped up what she wanted—friendships notwithstanding. She’d known what she could get, and she’d gone for it. Grace had been the idiot who just waited around.
“I like a woman who looks out for herself,” Billy had quipped back. “So...are flowers too much?”
So Grace had done what any good friend would do, and she stood back and watched him fall in love with another woman. Not like she had much choice. Tracy was Grace’s polar opposite. She was tall and thin to Grace’s shorter stature and more generous proportions. She was fair and blonde to Grace’s dark mane. Tracy knew how to flirt rather effectively, and Grace had never figured that out. Tracy was everything that Grace was not. Including thin.
That was when Grace realized what “falling in love” looked like with Billy. And all those nudges, laughs, shared jokes and late-night cell phone conversations between herself and Billy hadn’t been love. Or even attraction on his part. It had been friendship. She’d been the fool who was waiting around for it to blossom into something more. He wasn’t.