BEST BAD IDEA (Small Town Sexy Book 2)

by Morgan Young

  “And you’re in love?” she asks. “Like, you legitimately love each other, and he’s already talking about possibly moving in together?”

  “No,” I say, leaning into the table. “He’s going to build me a house. But we’re not there yet. We’re falling in love.” I pause. “His dog likes me now, though,” I say like it’s the next best thing.

  “Oh,” she says brightly. “Well, that’s good.”

  “I know!”

  “And how often do you see each other?” she asks, rattling the ice in her tea.

  “Every day,” I tell her. “We take turns at each other’s places.”

  “Does Frankie know?” Zoey asks as if it just suddenly occurred to her.

  “Of course,” I say. “I told him.”

  Zoey curls her lip. “Gross. The two of you have a weird relationship.”

  “Stop,” I say. “I’m telling you, too.”

  “Uh, yeah. But I didn’t used to bang you in the back of Morty’s Bar on Sunday nights.”

  “It was Saturday nights,” I say, deadpanned. We stare at each other, and then burst out laughing.

  “Yeah, well,” I say. “Frankie will be married in a few months, and then he wants to buy me out of Miller’s.”

  “Wait,” Zoey says, shocked. “He’s buying you out of the garage?”

  I don’t admit that it kind of hurts my feelings, especially since it was my capital that started the place. But I don’t want a garage, so when he asked if he could buy it from me, I said yes.

  “He’s going into business with Ray,” I tell her.

  Zoey doesn’t make a joke. She lowers her eyes to the table, her lips pouting in that way where she doesn’t even realize. “Frankie Miller’s really getting married,” she whispers.

  And it’s both of our young adulthoods ending.

  “Does this mean we’re officially grown up?” she asks.

  I smile, my eyes a little teary. “I don’t know about you, Zoey,” I say. “But I’ve been divorced since I was nineteen, so it’s probably about time.”

  We both sputter out a laugh, and she lifts up her plastic cup of iced tea. I match her with my latte.

  “To endless nights of sex,” she announces, garnering looks from several tables around us.

  I smile. “And to mornings spent fucking in the shower,” I add, just to one up her.

  “Damn, girl,” she murmurs, and we both sip from our drinks.

  ***

  Ryerson picks me up from my apartment, and we head to his house for the night. He just landed a new project, and now that I’m wrapping up my days in Miller’s Garage, Ryerson helped me get a contract to design open houses. It’s just a start, but Zoey is going to make me make business cards and a website.

  “Next weekend,” Ryerson says, holding my hand as we walk up to the house, “do you want drive out with me to see Brandon?”

  “Your brother?” I ask.

  “Yeah. They just had a baby, and they want to meet you.”

  “Oh, honey,” I say in exaggerated sweetness, getting on my tiptoes to kiss him. He laughs, and lifts me off my feet in his massive arms. He carries me to the door, my legs swinging beneath me.

  “They’re going to love you and want to keep you,” Ryerson says, unlocking the door. “So be prepared for me to have to fight our way—”

  He stops abruptly when the door swings open.

  “Out?” I suggest like he forgot the word.

  He lowers me to my feet, and I turn around, still in his arms. There’s a woman standing in the doorway of the living room, staring at us. Ryerson lowers his arms, and takes a step past me.

  “What are you doing here, Solana?” he asks, his voice tight.

  I quickly dart my eyes to her, taking her in—my heart in my throat. Solana, his ex-girlfriend—is even more beautiful than I imagined. Tall with rich, tanned skin, dark wavy hair, a ring in her nose. She’s amazing, and I feel insignificant in front of her.

  “I used the key,” she says, defiant. She has yet to even look in my direction, and I watch as my boyfriend takes another cautious step towards her.

  “She has a key?” I ask. “I thought you lived with her in Seattle?”

  “She does,” Ryerson says, not turning to me. “And I did. But she has the key in case of emergencies.”

  “You left the dog here alone,” Solana says, putting her hand on her hip. “So when I stopped by last night, and heard him barking, I came in.”

  “You stayed the night?” I ask her, not thinking about the fact that I’m out of line.

  Dismissively, she turns to me. “Yes,” she says. “I stay the night here sometimes.”

  Sometimes.

  There’s a swift turn in my stomach, and I beg the universe not to do this. Please, don’t break my heart. Please.

  “Ry,” Solana says, lowering her voice for him. “This town… it’s not you. Come home.”

  “We’re not talking about this,” Ryerson says, shaking his head.

  He walks into the house, and I hesitantly follow him in, not sure how I’d get home otherwise. He goes into the living room, and finds Rufus on the couch, forlorn. The dog gives him a long howl, and then lays his head on the couch arm again.

  “Ry…” Solana says again, walking over to stop in front of him. She looks up at him, her dark lashes blinking slowly.

  They stand there, pretty fucking close to each other, and I’m waiting to see if he’s going to kiss her, sweep her away in his arms. The fact that he hasn’t sent her away already is hurting me. And when she reaches out to put her hand on his bicep, I’m about to ready to cry.

  “You know why I’m back,” she murmurs, and I see him swallow hard.

  “Ryerson, take me home,” I announce, startling them both. Solana looks over at me, and smiles like she thinks that’s best.

  “Just give me a second, Cheyenne,” Ryerson says, not looking at me. How dare he make me stand here and see this? Seriously, what the fuck?

  “No, now,” I say, and he turns me, hurt in his eyes. But it’s not hurt from me. It from her. “I don’t have my car,” I add.

  “I need a second,” he tells me again. Solana actually laughs, and I feel like a joke. I should have known it wouldn’t be this easy. Great guys didn’t just fall into the pool with me, have a whirlwind romance, and then build me a house. I’d been daydreaming from the start.

  “Wrong answer,” I say, taking out my phone and calling the garage. Miller’s is the closest place to me, and Frankie will definitely pick me up.

  “You better not be calling who I think you’re fucking calling,” Ryerson says, setting his jaw hard.

  “If you’re not going to take me home…” I turn away, and when Frankie answers, I swallow hard.

  “Can you pick me up?”

  “Uh, sure, kid. Where you at?”

  I give him Ryerson’s address, and before I hang up, Frankie must be worried about the strain in my voice.

  “Chey, are you all right?” he asks.

  “No,” I tell him. And Frankie tells me he’ll hurry.

  When I put the phone back in my pocket, I turn to find Ryerson glaring at me. Solana has an eyebrow raised like she’s enjoying the show. I’m a country mouse to her, and I realize I must look pathetic in a thrift store dress and wild curls. Low class. The kind of girl who got married at seventeen. Divorced at nineteen.

  I sniffle, afraid I might cry, and I go over to sit on the couch next to the dog. Rufus immediately comes over to rest his face on my lap. I pet the top of his head, my eyes downcast.

  “Look, Ry,” Solana continues as if there was no interruption. But now, there’s a bit of an edge to her voice. “I made a mistake. And clearly, you’ve made a few,” she adds with a little laugh. “But it’s time.”

  “Take the dog out back, Solana,” Ryerson says, still staring at me. He doesn’t tell her to leave.

  Solana sighs, throwing back her head, and then calls to Rufus. The dog lifts his eyes to me, not moving right away, and then
Solana says his name again and snaps her fingers. He gets up, and trots away, past the washing machine and out the back door with Solana.

  “You sure you don’t want to go too?” I ask, looking up at Ryerson accusingly.

  “You called Frankie to pick you up from my house?” he demands.

  “Yeah. I wasn’t going to watch you and Solana make up. Sorry, Ry. I’m not into that sort of thing.”

  He shakes his head, disgusted, and walks over to the kitchen counter, leaning his hands on it and stretching like he’s trying to deal with how angry he is.

  “That’s not what’s going on,” Ryerson says. “But feel free to jump to stupid conclusions.”

  I scoff. “Uh…” I start like he’s insane. “She asked you to come home. And she sleeps here sometimes?” I ask. “How often is that? You neglected to mention it.”

  “Because it wasn’t important. Now stay. Call Frankie and tell him you don’t need a ride.”

  “No,” I say angrily.

  There’s the double beep of a horn outside, and I’m relieved that Frankie is already here. Ryerson closes his eyes, and then straightens up, his back to me.

  “Why are you doing this?” he asks. “Why right now?”

  “It’s never too late to admit when you’ve made a mistake,” I say, and the words are crueler than I mean or intend. I’m just angry. I have a temper.

  “Get out, Cheyenne,” Ryerson says, shaking his head. It’s like a slap, and at first, all I can do is stare at his back.

  “Fine,” I say, my voice hitching. “But don’t think I’ll come back through that door again.”

  He waves his hand, like he doesn’t care either way, and he sniffles. I can’t see his face, but I’m not about to stand here and let him humiliate me. He’s done a bang-up job of that already.

  As I storm toward the door, Rufus lets out a long, soulful howl from the backyard, the kind that shatters hearts, and I have to rush out before I cry.

  I slam the door behind me, slip off my heels, and literally run to Frankie’s car. Tears steam down my face before I even get in, and Frankie is a tiny ball of rage when he sees I’m crying.

  “I’ll fucking kill him,” he says, going for his seatbelt.

  “No,” I say, wiping my cheeks. “Just take me back to the garage. I want to go home.”

  Chapter Twelve

  When we park at the garage, I pull down the passenger mirror and swipe under my eyes. They’re red-rimmed and miserable, my skin a little blotchy.

  I filled Frankie in on the way home, and he told me I should call Zoey. But I didn’t want to call her yet. I didn’t want to hear I told you so. Not that she would say that, not this soon. But she’d think it.

  I was so stupid.

  I glance at the office window and see Ray standing behind the counter, looking concerned. She offers me a small wave as she darts a look from me to Frankie. She comes out from the office, hands in the back pockets of her jeans, and Frankie gets out to see her.

  I stay in the car for a moment, devastated. I fell fast for Ryerson, too fast, I admit. But I fell completely, and I thought he felt the same. It’s such a sad story, the sort that means that someday there will be statues made in my honor, ones that serve as dire warnings to other lovers. The Patron Saint of Bad Ideas.

  After a moment, I get out, and Ray waves me over. Frankie must have told her the situation, because she comes over to put her arm around me and lead me into the office.

  “It’s going to be okay, kid,” Frankie says from behind me. I turn back to him, and smile, thanking him for saving me.

  The three of us head into the store, and Ray hands me a bottle of water, her elbows on the counter as she waits to listen. Just as I start to talk, a truck pulls up in front of the garage.

  Frankie, Ray, and I all look out the window at same time. Ryerson is here, and as he gets out of his vehicle, glancing at Frankie’s car along the way, his posture looks pissed. Not sad and miserable like me. Angry.

  “I’ll handle this,” Frankie says, puffing up his small frame.

  “Be careful, hon,” Ray calls after him.

  Ryerson isn’t going to fight Frankie, even if Frankie takes a swing at him. Which is totally possible; he loves to fight.

  For his part, Ryerson holds up his palms the minute Frankie walks outside.

  “I just need to talk to her,” Ryerson says.

  “Not going to happen,” Frankie says back easily. “If she wants to know you, she’ll call.”

  Ryerson groans, and turns toward the office window.

  “Mrs. Miller,” he calls. “Can you please come outside.”

  “Did he just call you—?” Ray starts.

  I ball my hands into fists. Ryerson can’t say that Frankie and I are the same thing as him and Solana. Frankie doesn’t show up and beg me to come home. We don’t share longing looks and a dog.

  But the truth was, Ryerson yelling that name seemed to hurt him as much as it hurt me. I watch as he quickly wipes his eyes, and turns away. Holy shit. I think he’s crying.

  Ray looks at me from across the lobby, stunned. She’s ready to cry too, and she doesn’t even really know what’s going on.

  “His ex-girlfriend is back,” I say. “I didn’t handle it well, but he took her side.”

  Rays mouth opens and snaps shut.

  “What?” I ask her.

  “No offense,” she says sweetly, “but I can relate. Imagine what it’s like for me.”

  “What are you talking about?” I ask.

  “You and Frankie,” she says. “Imagine what it’s like for me. How close you two are?”

  “We’re not like that, Ray. You know that.”

  “I do, but love is still love. You still come first in nearly every way but one. I can never compete with you, Cheyenne. Frankie loves me, but for me to love him back, I had to accept that you would always be there.”

  “Frankie and I will never—”

  “That part doesn’t matter,” Ray says. “He’s your ex-husband, and he’s out there right now ready to defend your honor. And you let him. So before you judge your boyfriend, consider how you’re handling yourself in this situation.”

  “Cheyenne,” Ryerson calls again from the driveway. “Come out, please. I’m sorry for—I’m sorry for everything, okay?”

  “Are you sorry for the Mrs. Miller shot?” I yell back.

  He can’t see me, but he scans the building trying to find me anyway.

  “No,” he says, shaking his head. “Will you come out anyway?”

  “Chey,” Frankie says over his shoulder. “Just give me the word and I’ll lay him out.”

  Ryerson sniffs a laugh, but doesn’t acknowledge Frankie’s threat.

  In the back of Ryerson’s truck there is a sharp bark, and Ray and I nearly knock each other over trying to look out the window.

  “Rufus’s not leaving until we talk about this,” Ryerson says, motioning toward the dog. On cue, Rufus barks again.

  “That is one hell of a dog,” Ray says, looking sideways at me.

  I smile slightly. “Yeah. He’s a beast. I love him, though.”

  Ray looks me over, and crosses her arms behind her back innocently. “You talking about the dog or Ryerson?”

  I turn to her, and she smiles. I wait a beat, and then close my eyes. “Fuck,” I say. She giggles.

  I walk out into the stall, and before Frankie can push me back toward the office, I tell him I’ve got this. He looks at me pleadingly, wanting to spare me from pain.

  And maybe that was my bad, always expecting him to. I was broken when Frankie met me, and I’ve let him fight my battles for too long. It was wrong. I get it now.

  “Go see your fiancé,” I tell him, hiking my thumb toward the office. It feels a little weird to say, unnatural, but it’s time to let Frankie out of the promise he made me when I was seventeen. It’s time to let him move on.

  “You sure about this, kid?” he asks. His bright blue eyes are a little bit glassy, and I realize
this is it. I nod, and he nods back, and then Frankie Miller touches my arm as he walks past me to where Ray is waiting for him in the office.

  Once he’s gone, I look at Ryerson and see that up close, he’s absolutely miserable. Good. He deserves it.

  “You kicked me out of your house,” I say, making him wince.

  “I needed to deal with something, and you wouldn’t give me the chance to explain. You called your ex-husband.”

  “You told me to wait, and maybe you should have told your girlfriend to wait instead.”

  “You’re my girlfriend,” he shoots back immediately. “And I told you I needed a minute.”

  “And? Are you moving back, Ry?”

  He stares at me. “No. Why would I? My life, my family, you—everything I want is here.”

  Although I’m still mad at him, I’m beginning to feel very confused as to why. I cross my arms over my chest.

  “And Solana?” I ask.

  “She wasn’t here for me, Cheyenne,” he says, exasperated. “She wants the dog. She wanted me to come back to Seattle so we could split custody of Rufus. The sometimes where she stayed over? It was to dog-sit when I was out of town. She has never stayed there with me.”

  He looks around at the garage, and then turns back to me. “You didn’t stay to ask, but Solana is married with a baby,” he adds. “Someone else’s in case you want to jump that dumb conclusion too.”

  “Oh,” I say, absolutely unsure of what to say next.

  “But she and I have been disagreeing about the dog. She felt I didn’t provide a stable environment. But… even after you left, she understood. She gets where I’m at now. She’s leaving. She’s not taking the dog.”

  “That’s good,” I offer, looking past him to Rufus.

  “Sure, that’s good,” Ryerson says, looking me up and down. “But what am I doing here, Cheyenne? Is this what will happen after every misunderstanding?”

  “No,” I say. “Frankie and I—”

  “Aren’t like that,” he tries to finish for me.

  “Are done,” I say instead. “The co-dependent stuff. It’s done.”

  Ryerson’s expression fills with relief, but he crosses his massive arms over his chest like it’s not enough.

  “I didn’t want you to go,” he says in a quiet voice. “You left anyway.”