Mine Would Be You: A Bad Boy Rancher Love Story (The Dawson Brothers Book 3)

by Ali Parker

  “Well, it looks like we can welcome you to the Truitt family, Mr. Wise,” Evelyn said warmly.

  “Thank you,” Marcus said. “I look forward to a long and prosperous future with the company.”

  Everything had gone perfectly, and for the first time in weeks, I actually felt like there was some kind of hope in my heart. The company was going to make it, and I was going to have the chance to get Amanda back. All I had to do next was get her alone, and I was pretty sure I had a plan already worked out.

  Chapter 52

  Amanda

  My feet were propped up on the coffee table, and my head was leaned back as I listened to Mikey singing along with his radio in the background. I smiled to myself thinking about how he had done that all of his life. Music had been so important to him, and it still was. Quiet was nice, but there was nothing better than the sound of his sweet little voice. It was Saturday, and I was determined to make the day stress-free, relaxing, and to spend my time with my son, looking forward to the future together.

  “Hey, Mom,” Mikey said, running in and jumping on the couch with a couple of his animal figurines. “I took my desk and made it into a huge diorama of how the North Pole looks like. I used construction paper, cotton balls, and all of my animal figurines.”

  “Even the giraffe?”

  “No.” He laughed. “There are no giraffe at the North Pole.”

  “What about Santa?”

  “I don’t have a Santa figurine, and we talked about this,” he said. “I know you’re the one who leaves the presents. I’m okay with that.”

  “When did you get so old?” I laughed, pulling him close to me and hugging him tightly. “Go back to being that cute little boy who believed in elves and the Easter Bunny. I miss your little fingers.”

  “Mom,” he groaned. “You’re squeezing the air out of my body.”

  “I know,” I chuckled, letting him go.

  “So,” he said. “What are our plans for today?”

  “I don’t know,” I sighed. “I haven’t really thought about it. What do you want to do?”

  “We had a big day out on Wednesday, so we can relax around here,” he said. “I have a new book from the library that I want to start reading. It’s an eighth-grade level, but they let me check it out anyway.”

  “What’s it about?”

  “Physics,” he said nonchalantly. “Astrophysics actually. Like space and planets, and how it all came to be. I saw a video in science class by this famous astrophysicist, Neal DeGrasse Tyson, and it made me want to learn more about it. So, I went to the library, and I found a book that I thought I might be able to understand.”

  “Good thing you will.” I laughed. “That stuff goes right over my head every single time.”

  “Maybe it’s because you’re a marketing whizz,” he said. “My teacher said everyone has talents, and some have talents that are stronger in one thing over others. You’re creative, and you always have been.”

  “I have.” I smiled.

  “You should paint a picture today,” he said. “If you don’t have your stuff anymore, you can use mine. It’s been a really long time since you’ve painted or drawn anything.”

  “It has, hasn’t it?” I said. “I’ve been so busy with work that by the time I get home, I have no creativity left in me anymore. Hopefully, that will change with this new job. But maybe you’re right. Maybe I’ll dust off all my old art stuff and paint something. We need some color in the house anyway. The walls are bare.”

  “Yes,” he said. “That would be awesome.”

  “You are my inspiration,” I smiled, kissing him on the head.

  “Later on, tonight we’ll watch a movie together,” I said.

  “Okay,” he said happily. “I’m going to go finish my project.”

  I watched him run off, and I let out a deep breath, glad it wasn’t one of those days when he had a million things he wanted to do. I was running out of money after having taken a week off before moving over to a new job, and I had to be really careful in order to make it to the first paycheck. There wasn’t much we needed, just gas to get back and forth to work and a few more groceries at the end of the week, but still, I didn’t like draining my bank account completely. It sucked that I always had to live that way, that I had to constantly watch my account, constantly count every single penny, and wonder if I was going to get through until the next payday. I was tired of living that way.

  “Hey, Mom,” Mikey yelled from the other room. “Come see my diorama.”

  “Coming,” I said, pulling myself up and walking to his room. “Wow! That’s really creative.”

  “Thank you,” he said, smiling big. “I put it on a piece of cardboard so I can move it and not ruin all the work I did.”

  “That’s smart,” I smiled. “You can put it on top of your dresser.”

  “Good idea,” he said.

  “All right, well, come and get me when you’re hungry,” I said. “I’m going to go hunt down my art supplies.”

  “You got it,” he said, clearing off his dresser.

  I walked down the hall and to the closet, pulling over the stool and standing up to see the top shelf. I pulled a big tackle box out, a canvas, and my satchel of pencils. I brought everything out to the kitchen and set myself up, trying to focus on what I was doing. Several of my paints were dried up, so I tossed those, sighing as the trash can lid slammed shut. I had put a lot of money into the art stuff, but between work, Mikey, and my mom, I had little to no time to use them. I couldn’t wait until I didn’t have to worry about money and financial issues anymore, when I could go out and get anything I needed, within reason of course. Living from paycheck to paycheck and even less sometimes was exhausting, and I was pretty sure I was at the end of my rope.

  I pulled out my paintbrushes and set the canvas down on the table, wishing I had an easel. I sighed and went to work, trying to lose myself in the painting process. I usually thought all of my artwork out completely, but in that moment, all I wanted to do was paint until all the emotions and feelings I had on the inside were laid out on the canvas at my fingertips. With every stroke of the brush, another memory or emotion came to the surface, to the point where I found myself frantically brushing paint across the stretched fabric. Tears pooling at the corner of my eyes, but I pushed them back, moving deeper into my project. I had taken myself to another world, trying to forget about everything I had put myself through over the last several months. It was therapy, only I wasn’t feeling better, just more emotional and instead of fighting and yelling, I was brushing furiously against the canvas. I wasn’t really sure it was helping anything, and I was relieved to be interrupted by the sound of someone knocking on the door.

  “Mom?” Mikey yelled from the other room.

  “I got it,” I yelled back, opening the door and smiling at Dalton who was standing in the hallway.

  “Well, hello, Picasso,” he said, looking at the paint splattered up my arms and across my cheek. “You repainting the house?”

  “Kind of.” I moved out of the way and let him in. “Mikey suggested that I pull out some of my art supplies and get to work trying to create some pretty art for the walls.”

  “I see,” he said, walking over to my painting. “Oh, wow. Well, that is definitely something with emotion behind it.”

  We both stared down at the canvas covered in thick acrylic, mixed together to mostly create brown and gray blobs. We both tilted our heads and scrunched out brows together, trying to figure out if it was even functional beyond the trash can. Dalton cleared his throat and nodded his head.

  “I mean, I can see it,” he said.

  “You can?” I replied.

  “No, not in the least,” he said. “But I didn’t come here for your superior painting skills. I came here to say hello.”

  “Oh,” I said, looking at him suspiciously. “You never come by to just say hello. What’s going on? What are you not telling me about?”

  “Nothing,” he said, puttin
g his arm around me. “Can’t your best friend just come by and check up on you from time to time?”

  “I saw you yesterday.” I lifted an eyebrow. “And I know you better than that. It’s Saturday afternoon. You should be at the salon or the nail place, not standing in my apartment trying to act like you aren’t up to something suspicious.”

  “All right,” he said finally. “You caught me. I am up to something, but I promise, in the end, you’ll thank me for it. At least I hope so. Otherwise, I might have to move.”

  “Oh god,” I said. “What have you done? I can’t hide a body in this place. There isn’t enough room.”

  “No, no.” He laughed. “No dead bodies today. Something else. Something that I’m not sure how you’ll react, but I’m going off of the faith that I know you better than anyone else, and you’ll see the light.”

  “Your riddles are making my head spin,” I said. “Just tell me what’s going on.”

  “There’s something for you in the hall,” he said. “I’m going to stay here and hang out with my buddy, and you’re going to go see what it is. You can take as long as you need.”

  “I’m scared,” I said. “This is some kind of television hidden camera thing, isn’t it?”

  “Do they do those anymore?”

  “I don’t know, but those kinds of things are constantly coming back into style, so I can never be too careful,” I said, squinting my eyes at him. “Seriously, what’s in the hall?”

  “I’m not telling,” he said, crossing his arms. “But what I will say is you might want to wash the paint off you before going out there. Maybe put on a shirt that’s not made for someone five times your size.”

  “You come to my house, tell me there’s something top secret in the hall, offend my artistic sensibilities, and then pick on me for the clothes I’m wearing on a Saturday in my own house. Why does that seem wrong?”

  “I am your best friend,” he said. “If I don’t say something, before I know it, you’ll be grocery shopping in sweats with your hair up in a scrunch, reliving your teens in horror. I have to keep you straight, you know this.”

  “Hey, scrunchies really work, and they don’t get your hair all tangled,” I said, heading to the bathroom to clean up.

  I washed the paint off my arms and hands and pulled my hair down, running my hands through it. I wasn’t even sure what I was making myself presentable for, but I had a bad feeling about the whole entire thing. I pulled on a new shirt and walked back out to the living room.

  “Yes, much better,” Dalton said. “Now, go out there, and please, don’t embarrass me.”

  “Whatever,” I said, deciding not to ask any more questions. “But if I get bitten or injured, you and I are going to have words.”

  “I’ll tell them to take the velociraptor back then,” he said, rolling his eyes. “Go.”

  I pulled on the door and opened it up, looking to the right but seeing nothing. I turned and walked down the hall, staring down at the paint on my shoes. I had gotten a bit messy. When I looked back up, I stopped in my tracks, staring Elon right in the face.

  Chapter 53

  Elon

  All morning, I’d thought contacting Dalton and having him get Amanda in front of me was a brilliant idea, but as I stood there in the empty hall of her apartment complex, I was starting to have second thoughts. He had just gone into her apartment, and hearing her voice made my hurt shudder in my chest. This was pretty much going to be my only chance to talk to her, but before I did, I would have to convince her to hear me out first. As soon as I heard her door open, my nerves raced through me, and I took in a deep breath, watching her walk down the hall toward me, staring down at her shoes. When she looked up, she froze, looking at me as if I was the devil incarnate.

  “Amanda,” I said, stepping forward. “Don’t run. Just hear me out because I want to explain myself. I need to explain myself. Please.”

  “What the hell?” she said, crossing her hands over her chest. “Why in the world would I agree to stand in the hallway of my apartment complex and talk to you about anything?”

  “Because you’re locked out,” Dalton hollered from her apartment.

  She rolled her eyes and looked back at me, tapping her foot. She was pissed, I could see it, but how long could she possibly stay mad at me? From the look on her face, it seemed like a bit longer than I had hoped for.

  “I know you’re angry, and I know you don’t like surprises,” I said. “But a lot has changed. I have done a lot of thinking, and I don’t think I can go on without having the chance to talk to you about what happened.”

  “You aren’t angry?” she asked.

  “No,” I said. “I’m not angry in any way. There’s a diner down the street. Please, go to the diner and have something to eat with me. It’s a bit early for dinner, but knowing you, you haven’t eaten at all today. I’ll buy something for you to bring back to Mikey for dinner too.”

  “Don’t forget the fabulous gay babysitter,” Dalton yelled.

  She tried to hold back a laugh, but she struggled. “Fine,” she said. “We will eat, and I will hear you out, but I’m not promising anything.”

  “That’s fair.” I smiled. “The car is waiting out front.”

  We walked silently out of the complex and decided to walk the three blocks to the diner instead of riding. I kind of felt it was more because she didn’t want to be alone in the car with me, but I tried to ignore that fact. When we got there, we sat down at a table in the back and ordered some sodas and looked over the menu.

  “Anything I should or shouldn’t stay away from?” I said.

  “Everything on the menu is good, but I have to say no one has ever ordered the fish special.” She chuckled. “We stick with burgers when we come here.”

  “Sounds good to me.” I smiled, thankful she wasn’t still growling at me. “How has everything been?”

  “Okay,” she said, putting down her menu. “Things have been stressful, confusing, but it all seems to be coming together. How about you?”

  “You know, the same old thing, trying to get things done, finding resistance everywhere I turn,” I chuckled. “But it will all come together.”

  We ordered our food from the waitress and sat there talking. The conversation was slow at first, but not as awkward as I thought it would be. I actually felt incredibly comfortable with Amanda, even after everything that had happened between us. I let the conversation progress a bit before changing the tone.

  “I know you have better things to do than sit here and talk about work,” I said. “So, I guess I will get to the point of why I brought you out in the first place.”

  “All right,” she said, eating a fry.

  “First, I want to thank you for giving in and coming out with me,” I said. “I know it was hard for you to let go enough to do that, and I appreciate it.”

  “Sure,” she said, staring at me.

  “I’m not going to dull it down or sugarcoat it, or anything like that,” I said. “As soon as I was in your presence, I felt comfortable with you, close to you. I’ve never felt like that with anyone before. You make me want to be a better man, Amanda, just by being around you.”

  She breathed deeply, listening but not talking. I could tell she was truly hearing me, though, not just placating me for the moment. I swallowed hard, feeling the nerves reentering my chest.

  “I’ve never been the kind of guy who was very good at spilling my feelings,” I said. “I’ve always kept them to myself, no matter what was going on. I know, though, after what we’ve been through, I can no longer sit back and hope it works itself out, not if I want to have you understand how important you are to me. I made a mistake. I understand that now. I shouldn’t have stepped in when it came to your mother. You told me it wasn’t my burden to bear, and I took that as you not wanting to ask for help, not as you telling me there was more to it than what was on the surface. I know it caused you a tremendous amount of stress and heartache as well. That was never my intenti
on, not even for one second. I’m sorry I didn’t respect you and your wishes.”

  “I appreciate that,” she said.

  “From the moment I met you, I found myself wanting to protect you,” I said. “I don’t know what it was, but I cared about you, and I loved seeing you smile. When we had dinner and you laughed and joked, I could see this side of you that you never let out. You were carefree, if only for a moment, and I wanted to see you like that again. I could tell how much it hurt you to not be able to take care of your mother, and I thought the reason you hadn’t made a choice about her was that you were too stressed with the finances of it to think about the rest of it clearly. I wanted you to be able to take a deep breath and at least have one month where you felt more comfortable and could focus on you and the things that you wanted.”

  “Being a mother and a caretaker doesn’t afford you that ability very often,” she said quietly.

  “I know. Well, at least, I know that now,” I said. “I was incapable of understanding that and that’s not an excuse, but I wanted you to hear that I was aware of it. I just wanted to do what was right and be with you through all of this. I want to hold your hand through it.”

  “I get it,” she said with a sigh. “I just don’t know what to say about it.”

  We finished up dinner, ordered Mikey and Dalton some food, and then slowly walked back to the house, the entire time not saying much between us. Both of us were caught in our own heads, and I was afraid if I pushed her too hard, she would just take off again. This had to be on her watch, and I had at least gotten to get it all out for her. When we got to her complex, I handed her the bag of food and stood before her, not wanting to let her go.