“I do.”
They drove in silence for a while. It took about ten miles for his heart rate to tick back down to the normal range and his palms to quit sweating on the steering wheel.
“I’m married.”
And his heart rate shot right back up. Even with his not-the-purest background, he’d never been interested in a married woman.
“Where’s the husband?” he asked, interested to note his voice held steady.
“He hit me. So I left him.”
“Smart girl.”
“I tried to get the marriage annulled, but I couldn’t because we...” Her voice trailed off.
He couldn’t help his grin. “Had sex? Is that what you’re trying to say?”
She gasped a little.
He had to tease his Sunday School girl. “You can say it. It’s not hard. Just one syllable. Try it. Sex.”
“There are other ways to get the meaning across.” She squirmed in her seat.
“Sure. But sex is easy to say, and I’d know exactly what you mean.”
“Intimate.”
“Sex. Go on. You can say it.”
She looked behind them.
“You can do it.” Maybe there was something to being with a Sunday School girl after all. He wished it were light so he could see what shade of red she was.
“We have children in the vehicle.” Her voice squeaked a bit.
“And they’re sleeping. Try it.”
She huffed and crossed her arms over her chest.
“Make the ‘s’ sound. Sex.”
She didn’t move. Maybe he’d pushed too hard. He did that. But that whole exchange highlighted their differences. Sure, she might be married—couldn’t have been for long—but she’d been sheltered, protected, innocent.
He’d never even considered dating a girl like that.
Sure, when he’d signed on to Preacher’s crew, he’d gone to church and cleaned up his act, just because that’s kind of what Preacher did, but he’d always been more attracted to the kind of girls he’d grown up with. Tough chicks. They weren’t sheltered, and they were never innocent.
Neither was he.
Chapter 7
“I’m sorry,” Mack finally said.
“No, it’s okay. Guess I’m just not really used to people talking like that.”
That was nothing. He could do a lot worse. But he hadn’t. Not for years. He supposed the change had been so gradual he hadn’t even really noticed it.
But now that he’d thought about it, the girls from his teens and early twenties, the ones he used to like, weren’t the kind that interested him anymore.
He liked the innocence of Christmas lights and hot chocolate. Of festival plans and pie with chocolate sauce. Of a girl beside him who could blush over the word “sex.”
He hadn’t even really thought about it, but he wanted to be with Angela because he had fun and she made him laugh. But all the things they were having fun doing and all the laughing they did were over clean, innocent things.
Odd that he hadn’t even realized that the stuff he used to do he didn’t do anymore.
Didn’t say the things he used to say. Didn’t go the places he used to go. And wasn’t interested in any of it.
“You’re angry with me again.”
“No.” Again? What was she talking about? “I just realized some things about myself that I didn’t know. I really am sorry.”
“What things?” she asked hesitantly, like she wasn’t sure if he was truly not angry.
“Just stuff. You on the run from your husband?” Maybe that’s why she was in Sweet Water. If the man was going to be coming after her, he wanted to be prepared.
“No. I don’t think he cares. He had another girl anyway.”
“Ouch.”
“Yeah. It hurt, even though I wasn’t even close to being in love with him, it still hurt.”
“I bet. You getting divorced?” He shouldn’t care. He knew he shouldn’t. But he couldn’t keep from asking that question.
“Yes. If he doesn’t fight it, it shouldn’t be long. If he signed his papers.” Her arms came down, and she fingered the gloves in her lap. “I was never in love with Clay, either.”
“Have a hard time believing that.” The snow had started to freeze to the windshield, so he turned the heater fan up.
“Why?”
“Just seemed like you two were kinda meant for each other.”
“Because we’re the same?”
“Yeah. I guess. Sure.” The same in all the things that seemed to matter.
“Wouldn’t that make things kind of boring?”
He looked over at her. “Boring? That’s marriage, isn’t it?” He was joking a little but serious at the same time. Not that he’d thought that much about it. He wanted to get married someday, and when he thought about it, yeah, he figured he’d be...bored.
“I don’t think so. I think marriage is going to be fun. An adventure.”
“If you say so.”
“I do. I think it all depends on your attitude and what you put into it.”
“That’s why you’re getting divorced.” He felt bad immediately. “Sorry. If he hit you, that’s a deal-breaker. If he had a girlfriend, too...that wasn’t a hard decision.” His hands tightened on the steering wheel. He’d like to do some hitting of his own to any man who would hit a woman. Any woman, but especially Angela.
“No. It’s okay. I’m going to pick my own husband this time. And—”
“Wait. What? You didn’t pick him?”
“No.”
She didn’t elucidate.
He couldn’t let it go.
“Maybe you’d explain to me what happened?”
She snorted. Like she’d found something funny. But he couldn’t see what.
“My parents got into a bind, a big one, with their finances.” She spoke slowly, like she was carefully deciding what to say. “We accidentally found out that Clay was set to inherit a lot of money. I never encouraged him before, but this summer, my parents pressured me to get together with him. Because of the money. If it hadn’t been for Reina, and Clay falling in love with her and realizing what he felt for me wasn’t what he felt for her, I’d be married to Clay right now.” She fingered her gloves. “I can see that would have been such a mistake.”
“Where does the other guy fit in?”
“He’s the son of a nationally known speaker. They had money too. My parents actually preferred him because Clay is...”
“A farmer.” He didn’t have to have a billboard for him to know her parents looked down on Clay because he hadn’t gone to college and worked with his hands.
“Yes. They didn’t know whether Logan would marry me quickly. Turned out, he did. With a little persuasion.”
“Persuasion?”
“My dad had some contacts and stuff that helped his dad in his business. They scratched each other’s backs, I guess.”
“And you went along with it?” He couldn’t keep the incredulity out of his voice.
“Yeah. I guess it’s probably hard for someone like you to understand, but I was raised to be a blessing and obedient to my parents. I still think that’s the right way for children to be. But sometimes when you’re doing right, other people treat you wrong. In this case, it was my parents. But I can’t be too hard on them, because I was completely onboard. They didn’t have to talk me into anything.”
“They took advantage of your willingness to obey?”
“Yes. They did. But I truly think they thought they were doing the right thing.”
“You would have married Clay and you did marry that other jerk, even though you didn’t love them, just to make your parents happy?”
“Yes.” She had her eyes cast down on her lap, but her hands had stopped moving.
He shouldn’t rub it in, but it was just so hard for him to believe. He hadn’t grown up in those circles, and he didn’t know any adult who would do anything they didn’t want to, just to keep their parents h
appy.
He wasn’t sure whether he admired that or was disgusted by it. Maybe some of both.
“So, your parents are still telling you what to do?”
“No. I’m not under their authority anymore. And I’m not going back. That’s what I meant. The next time, it’s my choice. And I’m going to choose someone who will laugh with me and walk beside me and have a fun marriage. I’m not going to settle for boring.” She lifted her head and put her chin out.
“That’s kind of funny to me because I think every other girl I’ve ever talked to would say she’s marrying for love. And you want to marry for fun.”
She laughed, as he’d intended. He hadn’t forgotten that he really did have fun with her.
“I guess I feel like I’m going to love the person I have fun with.”
“That’s weird.”
She lifted a shoulder and looked away.
“I didn’t mean that in a bad way, necessarily.”
“Weird is bad, whether you mean it that way or not.”
“Strange?”
“Better, but still negative.”
“I don’t know how to describe you, then.”
She snorted. “Thanks.”
The snow had quit falling. Although the roads weren’t completely bare, they weren’t awful. The highway was pretty much deserted, and he didn’t need to concentrate on driving, but he stared out the window like he couldn’t take his eyes off the road.
He wanted to say something nice to her. Something that would pull them closer together. Something that would build on what he felt back as they walked through the lights and drank hot chocolate together, except not only was she married, but she’d admitted her bias against blue-collar cowboys. And she’d also said she wanted fun in her marriage but hadn’t hinted in any way that he might fit that bill.
Normally he wasn’t shy about going after what he wanted, and he wasn’t in this case, either, really. He just wasn’t sure exactly what he did want.
There was definitely attraction. But Angela wasn’t the kind of girl he could have a fling with, and truth be told, he’d basically figured out tonight that he wasn’t that kind of man anymore.
He liked her. Had fun with her. Did he consider her a friend?
“Are we friends?” The words were out of his mouth before he really thought about them. He couldn’t recall ever asking that question before.
“Um...yeah. I guess. I think we are. Do you agree?” She seemed to stumble around like the question had surprised her as much as it had him.
“Yeah. I thought we were, but figured I’d better check.”
“Is there a reason you needed to check?”
“Yes. No. I don’t know.” Now he was stumbling, and he didn’t like that at all.
“Maybe, since we’re friends, you might consider taking us out to the farm that Lark works on. She’s invited the girls, and I think they’d enjoy it.”
“Yeah. It’s kind of cool to see them milk the cows. I think Holly and Ashleigh would love it.” Gratefulness backed up in his throat. She watched the girls for him, but she didn’t need to do the extra stuff she did for them.
“I can go by myself, but I’ve never been on a dairy farm, and I thought you’d maybe go too.”
“They’re my nieces. Of course I will.” He tried to remember what he was doing in the morning. “It’s probably too late for you to get your shift changed from afternoon to the breakfast shift?”
“I can text Patty. Maybe she’s still up. Can’t we go to the farm in the morning?”
“I think they start milking at four. They’re probably done by seven. You want to get the girls up that early?”
She laughed.
“I didn’t think so. They’ll start the afternoon milking at the same time—four.”
She pulled her phone out, and her fingers flew for a couple of seconds before she hit send.
“You’re quirky. In a cute way.”
He waited while it took her a bit to realize that he was going back to their earlier conversation about her being weird. He still wasn’t sure how he felt about her and what he wanted to do about it, but he knew he didn’t want her feeling bad.
Her smile made his risk worth it. “Quirky is good. Cute is even better.”
“Cute? I’d think beautiful or stunning or breathtaking would be more what a girl would want to hear.”
She huffed out a breath. “Not this one.”
“That’s different.”
“You can’t really help how you look. I didn’t do anything to make my eyes blue or my hair blond or my face the shape it is. If I get complimented on my looks, it has nothing to do with my character, and I didn’t do anything to earn it.”
“Makes sense.” He’d never thought of that before. “You’re being quirky again.”
Her laugh filled the cab of his truck in a warm and happy way.
They were home before he knew it. Funny that he’d looked forward to being with her, then dreaded it, then ended up having a great time. He could get whiplash with the different ways she pulled him.
He got Holly unbuckled from her booster seat, while Angela worked on Ashleigh. The cold and wind woke the girls, even though he’d parked as close to the boardinghouse as he could.
Angela bent over Ashleigh as she hurried to the dark porch. Mack used his elbow to shut the pickup door and strode past her up the stairs, using his leg to help hold Holly as he opened the door for Angela.
She slipped through, stomping the snow off her boots but not stopping to take them off. He followed her example, figuring a little melted snow on the floor was better than a crying child who didn’t know why they were awake in the middle of the night and, more than likely, would want their mother.
Angela made it up the stairs with Ashleigh. He really wished he could carry both children, because it had to be hard on her to climb the stairs while carrying a child. But she didn’t stop and didn’t complain, and he followed her as softly as he could.
“I put their jammies under their pillows this morning,” she said in a low tone when they made it into the girls’ room.
“Thanks.” He never would have thought of that.
Assuming that she went to the right side because that’s where Ashleigh’s jammies were, he carried Holly to the left. Her arms clutched his neck, and she whimpered a little as he set her down.
“Mommy?” she said with a little whine in her voice.
“No, honey. It’s Uncle Mack.” His heart broke a little. His childhood hadn’t been the best with his parents splitting and getting back together a couple times a year and with little to no discipline or boundaries, but at least he’d never had his mother abandon him.
Holly sniffed and whimpered. He wasn’t sure she was completely awake, and she might not even remember this in the morning, but his chest hurt anyway.
He would never do this to his children. If he got married, his marriage might not be fun and it might not be perfect, but he would never have his kids wondering where he was and crying because he wasn’t there, and he wanted to be sure to pick a girl who wouldn’t walk away either.
Slipping Holly’s pink jammie pants with purple cats over her feet, he looked up at Angela, who was gently threading Ashleigh’s arm into her shirt.
Angela had walked.
He couldn’t hold that against her.
He was pretty sure that as long as her physical safety wasn’t endangered, she’d stay.
He couldn’t say why that mattered to him.
When Holly was tucked into her jammies, he settled the blankets around her and straightened. Angela had just finished with Ashleigh, and their eyes met over the little girls.
In those few moments, he knew she was feeling as he was—hurt for the children who were confused and lost and didn’t understand why their mother wasn’t there.
“I hate that she did this to them.” He couldn’t keep from saying what was clearly between them.
Her lips flattened even more, and she nodded, touc
hing Ashleigh’s forehead once more before moving to the door. He followed, closing the door softly behind them.
“It hurts and makes me angry at the same time. You can’t just walk away from your responsibilities,” she whispered. “It’d be different if someone were in the hospital or there was some legit reason...”
He nodded. Frustrated because he was powerless to do anything.
Her head twisted back and forth as though trying to shake off the thoughts that were going through her head. “Thanks so much for taking us tonight.”
“Of course. Thanks for going.”
“I mean, I know you didn’t have to take the time to see the lights and everything, and I might have worried about driving in the snow, but I felt safe with you driving.” She shuddered. “I have no doubt that you saved our lives tonight.” Pulling her lower lip in, she looked up at him. “I had a really good time. Thank you.”
If it were any other girl, he’d pull her close and kiss her good night. They’d both be expecting that much and, at one point in his life, more. But he wasn’t like that anymore, and Angela never had been.
For some reason, he wanted to be sure what he wanted before he made any moves with her. He didn’t want to have to backtrack.
“Did you ever hear from Patty?”
“Oh, yes. I’m sorry. We were talking about something else when her text came in. I can work the early shift and get off at one.”
He nodded. “I’ll check with Jeb and see what time we can show up.”
“Okay. Text me when you know.”
“I don’t think I have your number.”
She bent over her phone, and his eyes traced the soft curve of her neck and watched the graceful tap of her slender fingers. Something tugged at him, deep inside, and he could hardly resist taking the one step that would close the distance between them.
“What is it?” she asked, not looking up.
It took him several heartbeats to realize she was talking about his number. He rattled it off to her. Why was it so hard to take his eyes off her hands? When had he ever not been able to look away from a woman’s fingers, for goodness’ sake?
She finished clicking. “There. I sent you a text.”
“I must have left my phone in the pickup.”
Cowboys Don't Stand Under the Mistletoe (Sweet Water Ranch Western Cowboy Romance Book 10) Page 6
