by Taylor Hart
That was what was happening with Liberty
He’d been accosted by her uncertainty and fear and worry and regret.
As he shut her door, her regret pierced him to the core. He shouldn’t have kissed her like that.
Not that she was innocent in it all. She’d kissed his scar.
It’d felt intimate.
Now, she had to face the firing squad.
Feeling guilty and a bit annoyed, but more guilty, he reached the large entryway. “She’ll be out in a sec. Want some breakfast?” Was it his guilty conscience offering? Because I kissed your girl?
Hale looked back at him, and Texas realized neither of them could read the other.
Which made him smile.
“No.” Hale waved a hand, his attention pulled from a painting of a landscape on the wall. “This is a great house. Montana Crew’s right?”
Texas didn’t do small talk. “Yeah.” He knew he couldn’t endure this. “Uh, I gotta finish my workout, so make yourself comfortable.”
Hale nodded. “Okay.”
Texas flew back down the stairs, thinking a million thoughts. Was he here to gather her up and take her back to the rich, posh, civilized Boston? Marry her, stick her in a dress, and chain her to a fundraiser table? It surprised him how angry he got thinking those thoughts.
He reached the weight bench and laid down, pushing out ten reps easily. Why did he even care? He got up, taking care to change the music to Paradise City again. He needed music to blare the thoughts out of his head.
Moving on to shoulders, he pumped those out. He did some back and triceps work next.
All he could think about was what Liberty would do. Would she finish the article?
Part of him grew angry at the situation. At her, for not seeing what he’d seen last night in that field where she yelled out and let the motorcycle take her.
She was free.
She could fly.
She didn’t need her freaking mother or boring almost fiancé to clip her wings.
He’d been proud the other day when he’d read a version of the article she’d written about him. He hadn’t told her how surprised he’d been, but she obviously had talent.
That didn’t matter though. It shouldn’t matter—why did he care?
“Texas!” He heard the shouting through his head phones.
Turning, he saw her standing in the doorway. She wore jean shorts and a white t-shirt. Her skin was tanned from being outside. Her blonde, platinum hair was in curls around her shoulders. Dang, she was pretty.
Yanking out his ear buds, he surveyed her expression, and he could tell the wall was back up. She was back to being a snotty, city reporter. “Hey.”
“Uh …” She looked down, not meeting his eyes and gesturing to the upstairs. “I’m going to take the weekend with Hale.”
He couldn’t say he was surprised, but he still didn’t like it. He frowned. “You don’t need permission from me, princess.”
Finally, her eyes met his. “Kay.” She nodded.
“You could stay.” He blurted it out without thinking. “You don’t have to live the life other people choose for you.”
Tears threatened in her eyes. She looked away. “I can’t. I just … it’s not Hale’s fault.” She turned away. “I’m sorry.”
Turning back to the weights, he put the ear bud back in his ear and turned up the music. He needed an extra hour of weights today.
Chapter 17
Monday morning, after dropping Hale off at the airport, Liberty drove back to Montana Crew’s house.
She felt like she was back to herself. Her real self.
That other person, the one who’d been doing all the crazy stuff, having all those crazy thoughts about Texas was gone. She and Hale had worked it out. She would go to a different conference at a different date to report on the refugees. Hale explained that he didn’t care if she reported on the hard stuff, but he wanted to go with her to be sure she was safe.
They would plan for a conference that he could attend with her at a later date.
It was more than she’d expected.
Hale had been so tender with her, making sure she was okay.
It reminded her of how he’d always been that way with her. Granted, the past few months apart it’d been different, but he cared for her. Loved her.
She would get what she wanted. Yes. She had control of her life. She had a life. Her hand began to tremble just thinking about it, and she secured it tighter to the steering wheel. Texas had made her feel out of control.
She wasn’t though, so it was fine. Everything was fine.
The weekend had been exactly what she would have expected it to be with Hale. Some sightseeing. Some polite conversation. He’d reached out to friends in Jackson, and she’d found herself at an art gallery Saturday night. Sterling Pennington’s art gallery. He’d been polite too. Different than he seemed in the movies. But what did she know—he was an actor. The funny part was, when Sterling had asked her what she was doing in town and she told him about the article, he’d winked at her and told her to be careful of Texas’ charms.
What in the world did that mean? How many women had he charmed here in Jackson?
It didn’t matter, she told herself. She was just here for an article. Pulling into the driveway, she shut off the car and tried to squelch the stupid butterflies in her gut.
She’d confessed she’d kissed Texas to Hale.
Hale had been a perfect gentleman about it, smiling at her and telling her he understood. He was sure it wouldn’t happen again. It was all very civilized. Yes.
Her mother’s face flashed into her mind. There was still the issue of dealing with her. Feeling brave and angry, she pushed her mother’s number.
“Hello.” Her mother answered on the second ring.
“You don’t get to control my life, mother.”
For a second, there was no response. “Did you find anything good on him?” Her mother ignored the real issue.
“I’m not doing the article on Texas anymore.” Honestly, she hadn’t realized it until she’d said it. “And I’m not going to work for you.”
“Liberty, don’t be silly.”
“Texas Waters is one of the most honorable men I know. Like father, not like you.”
Her mother cursed. “I still need you at that engagement party. I need you marrying Hale.”
She hung up, feeling wild and completely confused. It stunned her to finally realize how manipulative her mother was.
More than she’d ever thought.
Getting out of the car, she rushed to the front door and pushed the doorbell.
No one came.
She rang the bell again.
No one. It annoyed her she didn’t have Texas’ cell number. It felt strange. Where was he? Off running maybe? She went to the back of Montana’s house, feeling like a burglar. Then she heard music from the studio.
Taking a chance, she opened the door, but found only the band.
Walking in, she saw that the whole band was there.
Looking around, she didn’t see Texas in the room or anywhere. “Where’s Texas?” she asked Sloane when he popped his head out of the sound booth.
A feeling took hold of her. A feeling that something was wrong.
Sloane turned to the rest of the band. "Let’s take a break guys.”
He turned to face her. “Texas’ dad took a turn for the worse. He went home for a bit.”
Confused, it felt like someone had slammed her in the gut. “What?”
“His daddy has cancer,” Sloane said.
“I know. But is he …?”
Sloane shrugged. “He’s dying at some point, darling. None of us make it out of here alive.” His voice was sad.
All she could think about was how Texas had said “things were complicated with daddy.”
All the guys came out and said hello, and they talked about Texas’s dad.
Sloane pulled out his phone. “I just got a text from Texas.”�
��He turned to her. “He’s been there since yesterday. I guess his dad has stabilized. He doesn't know how long he’ll be gone.” Sloane shrugged and turned back to her. “I guess this kind of puts a kink in the article.”
“Yeah.”
Sloane exhaled. "Or you could go there. I know you might not want to, but that’s part of up close and personal, right?”
Without thinking, Liberty made a decision. “Yes, yes it is. Sloane, could I get Texas’ number from you? And the address of his home there or the hospital?”
He gave all of the information to her.
She walked out of the house and back to her car. Every part of her felt hyper and jittery. What would she do, just show up?
Getting in, she felt like she needed to run, bolt. She felt like one of those wild mustang horses. Where could she run to?
Closing her eyes, she inhaled deeply. Texas, Texas, Texas. With his deep, piercing, dangerous blue eyes. Texas, those men on his tattoo. The way he’d held her and told her that pain was pain and hers was real too. Compassion where she’d least expected it.
Did he have anyone to give him that? The same compassion he’d shown her?
She thought through the many famous people in his life. Maybe Montana? She thought about his band. They were here.
Texas would tell them to keep recording, she thought.
Dang. She started the car and began giving her phone commands. “Airplane tickets to Myrtle Beach.”
She would go. She would find him, and she would … Well, she didn’t know what she would do.
Getting off the plane at Myrtle Beach Airport, South Carolina, she was immediately shocked at the stark difference between the Wyoming and South Carolina air. She’d been to Myrtle Beach one time growing up, with a friend from school who had a house here. Her parents had allowed her to go without them. The weather was a big change from Boston and the dry Wyoming weather.
After grabbing an Uber to the hospital, she tried to quell the nausea she felt.
She knew exactly how Hale would react if she showed up unexpectedly. He would be polite even if he didn’t like it or it was inconvenient or someone was dying.
But Texas? Her mind couldn’t stop going to the kiss they’d shared in the pool a couple of days ago. It was anything but polite or civilized. In fact, the kiss was a good microcosm of Texas in general. Unpredictable, demanding, consuming.
He might just order her with his stiff lip to leave. He might not say a word. The worst was when she thought of him being alone, his head down, his beautiful blond hair streaming into his eyes. Pain ripped through her chest.
Was he alone?
No. He had his mother, but Liberty was pretty sure Texas would be there for her. He wasn’t the kind of man who would allow anyone to be there for him. So why was she going there? She asked herself the question for the millionth time.
“Here, Miss.” The driver stopped outside of the hospital, and she jolted back to reality. It felt like it had taken hardly any time to get to there, and she felt out of sorts.
She grabbed her small carry on and her computer bag, and got out. “Thank you.” Man, she loved Uber.
Going into the hospital, she wondered if they would even let her up. She went to the front desk, and said she was there for Texas Water’s dad. Yeah, she was right. No go.
So, she paced the lobby for five minutes, watching people come and go.
Finally, she bit the bullet and texted him.
It’s Liberty. I’m here. They won’t let me come up.
Send.
Nervous energy pulsed through her. Dang. Dang. Dang. She waited.
No quick response.
She kept looking at her phone.
Nothing.
Five minutes went by. She was back to pacing. What if he lost his phone? Left it? It was out of battery? Why had she come here?
She kept pacing and couldn’t stop her mind from going back to her mother and Hale. How would she explain why she’d come here? Lie and say Texas wanted her to come? Hale, she didn’t know what he would say. Did she have to tell them? No.
No, she didn’t.
Dang it. She was a grown woman. If she wanted to go to Myrtle Beach, she could, right? Self-loathing washed through her. If she wanted to go to Nigeria before she was married, she should. Shouldn’t she?
She’d let her mother control her most of her life. It hadn’t felt like a big deal, she realized. Because it was just the plan. Go to boarding school. Yale. London. Had she really wanted it?
Now, was she just turning the reigns over to Hale?
Nigeria.
Did she want that?
Yes. Yes. Yes. She wanted it. She thought of all the articles she’d read on refugee dislocation. How it was out of control. Yes, there were some articles about it. But where was the main stream coverage? These were people’s lives.
Yet she’d given in to Hale.
Another ten minutes went by. She wondered if she even had the right number.
How long could she just sit here waiting? She looked out of the floor to ceiling windows, staring at all the people coming in and out, not really seeing anything.
A throat cleared behind her, and instinctively, she knew it was him.
She turned slowly.
He was an arm’s length away, but she could feel his presence. Texas Waters made people take pause when he entered a room.
Well, at least he had that effect on her.
He looked different, and she realized he was clean shaven. His long, bushy hair wasn’t as long on top. It was actually done. He looked more like a Calvin Klein model than the casual musician she had come to know. It nearly took her breath away. She felt small. He wore jeans and a plain button-down black shirt. Not dressy, but not casual for him.
Their eyes met, and he didn’t say anything for several seconds.
His intensity would be creepy if she didn’t know him.
Finally, he let out a slow breath. “What are you doing here, Liberty?” His voice was soft.
Not wanting to say something stupid, she only shrugged. “I didn’t want you to be alone.”
Immediately, his eyebrows lifted, and his eyes took on a skeptical look. She imagined this was a look he would give a salesperson trying to sell him something he really didn’t believe he needed and wondered if the salesperson really believed he needed it.
Her heart was like a caged bird inside her chest, banging around erratically. She wouldn’t leave unless he told her to. She would just stay here and face his penetrating gaze.
His eyes moved slowly down her then back up, not in a seductive way, but in a soldier way. Suspicion clouded his eyes. “What do you want?” he asked again, with the same measure and quiet calm as before.
She didn’t answer.
“The article?” he asked, and a pissed off look crossed his face. “Couldn’t wait until I was done here?” He gave her an accusing look.
She didn’t answer immediately. The truth seeped out of her, as it always did around him. “I came so you didn’t have to face it alone.”
His eyes still held hers.
“I came because I wanted to come,” she said finally.
“Then what?” He pressed, only a hint of anger fell into his eyes. She guessed most people wouldn’t see it, but she wasn’t new to the moods of Texas Waters.
She knew the question he was asking without asking. He wanted to know about Hale. About that kiss. It wouldn’t suit to answer him. She couldn’t. Instead, she opted for the truth. “I don’t have answers, Texas.” Slowly, she put her hand out to him. “I thought you could use a friend.”
Keeping his eyes on hers, he didn’t take her hand.
Feeling foolish, she pulled it back. What would she do now? She didn’t have a plan. Didn’t have a next step. How had she got to a point in her life, her very carefully planned life, where with this man there was never a plan? Even if there was, he didn’t play along. She closed her eyes and shook her head, feeling like an idiot. What had she done?
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br /> “I don’t need a friend.” He said the word like it was evil. “I don’t need someone to hold my hand.” His voice was growing louder. No. No. No. She didn’t like this. But wasn’t it what she had expected? He wasn’t polite. He didn't care who saw what. He glared at her. His eyes, the anger, turned a switch inside of her. All the fear and worry and polite society was suddenly silenced.
“What do you need, Texas?” she asked with the same amount of vehemence he was giving to her.
Swinging back his head, he cursed beneath his breath, looking flummoxed. Good. She could give it back too.
A light laugh escaped him. “Dang, woman.”
She held his eyes.
A small smile played at his lips. “How’s your husband?” he asked.
Any amount of relaxing she’d done, instantly left her. She shook her head. “He’s not my husband.”
Shaking his head, he let out a breath. “Are you engaged or not?”
She threw up her hands. “Does it matter at this point?” She countered.
Taking a step and closing the gap between them, his breath ran across her face. “All I know is if you were my fiancée and you kissed someone the way you kissed me the other day …” he let out explosive breaths of air and then grabbed her forearm firmly. “I’d kick his butt, and then you and me would be done.” He let go of her arm, but he didn’t move.
Part of her marveled at the way he could make her want to hit him and cower and scream all at the same time.
“Did you tell him?” he asked accusingly.
“Yes,” she said in the snippy teenager voice she hadn’t used in a long time. “But I don’t owe you an explanation, do I?”
He scoffed.
Tears bubbled in her eyes, and she shook her head, stepping back. “I shouldn’t have come.” What had she been thinking? She hadn’t. She fumbled for her bag, grabbed it, and turned for the door, feeling unsteady. Her mind whirled with confusion.
