by Quint, Suzie
Terry’s offer also awoke an ache for the feel of a bull between his thighs and the heart-pounding adrenaline rush when the gate opened. He needed something pure and good and simple in his life. His feelings for Eden were good and pure, but with Georgia wrapped up in them, they sure as hell weren’t simple.
“Hell, yes,” Sol told Terry. He looked up to see Gideon grinning widely. Damn. That was the third time today he’d been busted. He dug a crumpled dollar bill from his pocket and held it out. Gideon took it and walked away whistling Last Dollar Blues.
He really needed to hit the road.
###
Georgia’s phone rang. She pulled it from her pocket and checked the number before she answered it. “Hey, Daniel.” She hadn’t talked to him since the previous week. It hadn’t felt right, calling him while he was at his ex-wife’s. “Are you back in the Big D?” she asked as she gathered up her purse and the latest Stacia Kane novel she’d been reading while she waited for her mama’s therapy session to end.
While he spoke, she walked outside to sit on the building’s wide front steps, so she wouldn’t bother anyone.
“So she was sober the whole time you were there?” she asked.
“Yup, not a drop. No alcohol at all in her place. Trust me. I checked. I’m feeling a lot better about Deanne being there.” He sounded better. Happier. Easing your worries about your kid did that. “So how was your date?”
“Oh, well. Good. And bad. Sol and Tommy got into a fight at the drive-in.”
Daniel laughed. “So now you have men fighting over you. I’ll bet that makes you feel special.”
“Not really. Turns out it was more about their male egos than it was about me. And it’s not as though I’d pick either of them to be my Prince Charming when they’re strutting around like two roosters in the barnyard.” C’mon, Daniel. Ask me who I would pick.
But Daniel only laughed and asked if she’d at least gotten to see a good movie.
She clawed the fingers of her free hand and curled her lips in a snarl. Why was he so damned uncooperative? “Yeah, the movie was good.” She sighed before she told him the rest, but she couldn’t withhold the confrontation she’d had with Missy. He’d enjoy visualizing that.
She was right. He practically howled with laughter as she described the scene to him. “I barely escaped with my life, and you laugh,” she said with mock despair at the end of her story. “And then, to top things off, when I told Tommy about it”—if this didn’t get a reaction, she didn’t know what would—”he kissed me.”
“Whoa.”
She listened hard to the pause that followed, hoping she could read the silence.
“Did you kiss him back?”
She hadn’t thought this out very well, now had she? She was tempted to lie, but she could picture that one lie leading to others, and then she’d have to keep track of the lies. It was almost a relief to realize that would be more trouble than it was worth. “No. I cut and ran without an ounce of grace.” She couldn’t tell if there was a note of relief in his laugh or not.
“Well, you can’t blame the guy for trying.”
She had to bite her tongue to keep from asking, And what about when you kissed me? But he might say she couldn’t blame him for trying either, and then where would she go with it? She was getting tired of trying to get him to show serious interest in her.
After they hung up and she went back inside to stare at the pages of her book, she wondered why she didn’t just lay her cards on the table with Daniel.
A second later: Well, duh. Their daughters were best friends. If he wasn’t interested, things would get awkward. Then again, they’d gotten awkward after they’d kissed, and they’d gotten past that. Of course, their method of getting past it had been to never talk about it. Maybe they should have. Or maybe that would have made it worse.
She didn’t know the answer, and didn’t she have enough to worry about without adding that? It could wait until summer was over. When they were both back in Dallas, she would decide what to do about it. But she knew she’d keep trying to pick up clues when the opportunity arose because she flat couldn’t help herself.
Chapter Seventeen
That afternoon, Georgia pulled into the McKnights’ and saw Sol walking across the broad expanse of the ranch yard.
Good. I won’t have to hunt him down.
He stopped near the barn and waited for her with a look on his face that said he expected round two to commence as soon as she got out of her car. He wasn’t off by much, but first, she had something she needed to say that might make him faint dead away.
She got out the car and walked over to him. Without preamble, she said, “I have to apologize to you.”
His eyebrows nearly disappeared under his hat brim. “For what?”
“For thinking you were a barbarian.”
“A barbarian?”
“I assumed you threw the first punch.”
His eyebrows returned to their normal place as the tension in his body drained off. “I should’ve. Tommy has the hardest damned head.”
So much for her good intentions. She glared at him. “Is it you? Do you just bring out the idiot in everyone around you?”
She could practically see him sorting through possible responses and tossing aside the ones he didn’t dare say. Before he could find one he thought would annoy her without digging himself a hole so deep he couldn’t climb out, she said, “Don’t think that gets you off the hook for being a jerk. How dare you tell him I slept with you?”
Sol opened his mouth but then wisely shut it again. It didn’t matter. She knew he was thinking, But you did. She didn’t care. Some things were private.
“How could you throw that out there?”
His face went through several expressions as though he kept changing his mind about the most effective defense. Finally, he sighed. “You’re right. I was way outta line.”
Well, surprise, surprise. She hadn’t expected him to abandon his normal philosophy that the best defense was an obstinate offense. “Sol, you’ve got to give up the idea that we’re going to get back together someday.”
He gave her a blank look as if she’d spoken in a foreign language, and he was waiting for the translation.
“Oh, never mind. The whole thing Saturday night was my fault anyway.”
“How do you figure?”
There was a breath of something in his tone she couldn’t quite identify. Something tentative. A little sad. A little hopeful. A little . . . she didn’t know what.
Georgia took a deep breath. She didn’t like being in the wrong, and she hated owning up to it to him even more. “I should have told you what was really going on.”
He cocked an eyebrow.
“I’m not dating Tommy.”
His eyebrows shifted position as though they were on a seesaw. Sometimes he made her think of a Muppet, the way his eyebrows were so expressive.
“I went out with him to help him make Missy jealous.”
Sol made a disparaging noise. “Damn, you must think I’m really stupid.”
“Come on. You’ve seen how she treats him. It’s not right. All he wants is to salvage some pride. Surely you can understand that.”
“So it was a pity date?” Something in his voice made her feel like he wasn’t going to believe her no matter what she said.
“No, of course not. And no, I didn’t sleep with him,” she said to forestall any chance he’d ask. “Not that it’s any of your business, especially since you went out with Missy.”
Sol frowned. “I haven’t gone out with Missy.”
“Really?” Georgia loaded the word with skepticism.
“I don’t date married women.”
“That’s not what I heard.”
Sol’s mouth tightened. “From Tommy, I’ll bet. Is that how he convinced you to go out with him?”
“No. It had nothing to do with it. At least, not on my end. But I’m sure it contributed to how much Tommy enjoyed hitting you.”
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br /> “Well, if I had dated her, which I didn’t, I’d understand that, but I didn’t.”
“Why would Tommy think you had?”
“Maybe Missy lied to him. Or maybe he . . . ah . . .”
The ah was drawn out as though something had fallen into place. Like a forgotten date.
“Missy pulled into The Lariat right behind me about a month ago. We got to the door about the same time. I think I even held it for her.”
“So you think Tommy saw you walk in together and made a wild assumption on that thin evidence?” Georgia let her disbelief color her tone.
“No, even Tommy’s not that dumb. But they had a band that night and the place was packed. I got the last empty table. Missy asked if she could share it with me.” He winced. “I did dance with her a couple of times. I may even have bought her a drink.”
“But it wasn’t a date?”
“No. I told you. I don’t date married women. I stopped in for a beer and to see if the band was any good. That’s it.”
She could actually picture it happening that way. Especially since Missy had been crushing on him since high school. “So you didn’t leave together?”
“No, I only stayed about an hour. I have no idea how long Missy stayed.”
She could picture Missy leaving right behind Sol. Maybe hoping to catch him in the parking lot. Or maybe only planning to use him to twist the knife in Tommy’s gut.
“Okay. I guess I believe you.” She shouldn’t feel so good about knowing he hadn’t gone out with Missy. Hadn’t swapped spit with her. Hadn’t, thank God, gone to bed with her. Georgia caught herself smiling as Sol.
Sol smiled back. “Thank you.”
“But it still didn’t have anything to do with me and Tommy going to a movie. We’re just friends.”
One corner of his smile twisted as if he’d just tasted something nasty. “Yeah. Sure. I believe you.”
But clearly he didn’t. If she could believe him about Missy, why couldn’t he believe her about Tommy? “We’re friends,” she said again as though the repetition might get through to him.
Sol shook his head slowly. “If you really think I’m gonna buy that you and Tommy are just friends, one of us is dumber than a doorknob.”
“You think men and women can’t be friends?”
“I didn’t say that. I said Tommy doesn’t want to be friends with you.”
She threw up her hands. Sol was a one-note song. “I don’t believe it. You really think every man in the world is dying to sleep with me.”
“Nope. Only the sane, heterosexual ones.”
She rolled her eyes.
“Really, Georgia? You don’t get that?” His voice was soft but full of some emotion she couldn’t interpret. “You don’t get that when a man looks at you, he can’t help wanting you?”
“I am not my breasts, Sol.”
He shook his head again, but this time he smiled as though he couldn’t believe her naivety, then he stepped into her space. “It ain’t your breasts, darlin’.” His voice had gone soft and husky. “It’s you. The way your hair catches the light.”
He slid his finger under the hair at her shoulder and lifted a lock free. “It looks like spun gold. A man can’t help imagining how it’ll look mussed up in the morning.” He rubbed her hair between his fingers as if testing the texture then lifted his eyes to hers.
Georgia’s breath hitched. She should back away, but Sol’s gaze held such intimacy that it nailed her in place.
He lifted his hand and stroked her cheek with his knuckles. “It’s how soft and smooth your skin is. A man wants to feel it against his.” His finger traced her lower lip. “It’s imagining how your lips will taste.” He slid his spread fingers into her hair. His thumb stroked the soft skin near the corner of her eye. “It’s wanting to see your eyes darken with passion when you look at me.”
Did he realize he’d stopped pretending he was talking about “men” and was sharing how he saw her? Was this why he’d never given up on her? His vision was seductive as hell.
“Then I hear your voice, and I want you talking to me in bed, soft and low, and saying things no one else should hear. I want to hear you breathe my name and to feel like no one exists in the world but us.”
It was impossible not to want to be wanted like that. Especially when so many men saw only her breasts.
She took a shaky breath and realized she was standing there, gazing into her ex-husband’s eyes as though he were the only man in the world. This was not the conversation she’d expected to have with him. Three things had been on her agenda. Her apology for thinking he’d started the fight, her explanation about Tommy, and . . . and . . . something else. Something important. Good Lord, what was it? She couldn’t think when he was stroking her face and looking at her like that. Clearing her throat, she stepped back.
Part of her was disappointed when he let her go, but with the distance, her brain finally kicked in. How could she have forgotten about her daughter?
She cleared her throat again, so her words wouldn’t come out sounding husky. “We need to talk about Eden. I don’t want her barrel racing.”
Sol looked over her head as he heaved a deep breath. When his eyes met hers, he’d shifted gears. “I don’t get it. Why does this upset you so much?”
“I don’t want her spending her future on the rodeo circuit, falling for some stupid cowboy.”
His lips pressed tight for a fraction of a second. “She’s only ten, Georgia.”
“She’s eleven. And pretty soon, she’s going to be looking at boys—”
The thunderstruck look on Sol’s face pulled her up short. He wasn’t a stupid man, but she knew he didn’t want his baby growing up. He certainly knew her dating years were coming, but he’d probably deluded himself into thinking they were a dozen years away.
When she figured he’d had time to catch up, she continued. “I don’t want her looking at boys who want to ride bulls.”
Georgia saw the surprise on his face, and the hurt, too. She’d been afraid he’d take her words personally and wished he wouldn’t.
“She could do a lot worse,” Sol said defensively. “Cowboys are good men.”
“I’m not saying they aren’t.” Though rodeo cowboys were typically hard drinkers and often hard partiers and buckle bunnies were a constant temptation in their nomad lives, they were also disciplined and hardworking. The very danger of their sport built a camaraderie that had them cheering each other when one of them made a good ride, even if it knocked the others out of the money.
“I’m saying it’s a hard life for the women who love them.”
Sol’s head dropped. All she could see was the top of his hat. The toe of his cowboy boot scuffed at the dirt.
“Is that what you want for your daughter?” Georgia asked softly. She hoped she’d won this battle.
But when he lifted his head, she saw the bulldog stubbornness etched in his face.
“I want her to be happy. I see too many people sleepwalking through their lives, not knowing what they’re supposed to be. They ain’t got a drop of passion for what they’re doing. That ain’t how you’re supposed to live. Eden loves horses. Her face lights up like a Christmas tree when she and that horse go ‘round that barrel just right.
“I think you’re borrowing trouble. It could be she’ll be like Daisy and just want to work with the horses. Hell, she might decide it’s too much work and quit. But if she wants to compete, looking for her passion, I ain’t gonna take that away from her.”
And that’s what scared Georgia. Eden was too much her father’s daughter. “Then I’ll do it. My daughter is not going to get sucked into rodeos.”
“Your daughter?” He scowled, his stance changing subtly, telegraphing intermingled aggression and stubbornness. “I guess that’s where I went wrong. All this time I’ve been laboring under the delusion that she was our daughter. I thought that was why you wanted me to make decisions about her, but I guess I was wrong.”
&nbs
p; Her face flushed hot. When had he learned how to push her buttons about Eden?
“Mine, yours, ours, it doesn’t matter. She’s not going to become a buckle bunny.”
“Hellfire and damnation, Georgia. What is this burr you got up your butt about cowboys?”
“I don’t want her with some rodeo cowboy who’s going to break her heart like you broke mine.”
She hadn’t known those words even went together, let alone ever planned on saying them to him. They seemed to hang in the air, waiting for his response.
He cocked his head and looked deep into her eyes. She wanted to look away, but his gaze trapped her.
Softly, he said, “What did I do, Georgia, that broke your heart? You only stayed with me six weeks.” He took a shallow breath. “Six weeks, two days, and a handful of hours.” His brow wrinkled as though he was trying to solve some unsolvable problem. “What did I do that was so terrible?”
Her heart was pounding like a jackhammer. She felt like a bug caught in a spider’s web, but the spider wasn’t supposed to look at her like he wanted to read her soul. “You just . . . I felt . . .” She swallowed and tried again. “I was smothering out here. I felt trapped.”
His lips thinned. “Yeah, you’ve said that before. I didn’t quite believe it then, and I sure as hell don’t believe it now. I don’t know how I broke your heart, but you sure broke mine.”
She shook her head. This wasn’t the conversation she’d planned either, and it was starting to tread on dangerous ground. As if by their own volition, her hands rose as though to ward him off. “Let’s not rehash ancient history, Sol.”
The look on his face said it wasn’t ancient history to him, but he took a calming breath.
Georgia breathed easier, too. She was out of the woods for now, but she knew Sol too well. Later, he’d replay the things she said. There wasn’t much about him that wasn’t all man, but in this one area, he sometimes acted like a love-struck girl who tried to read meaning into every word spoken by the object of her affection.
“I don’t want Eden riding in the rodeo. It’s that simple.”
