Call Me Michigan

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Call Me Michigan Page 8

by Sam Destiny


  “Ashley? What’s wrong?”

  “Pick up Mason. He’s drunk off his ass, and it’s your fault.” Her friend was mad, and it was no wonder really.

  “Ash, I’m sorry. Whatever he said I said was a heat-of-the-moment thing and …”

  “Get your skinny ass over to Dooley’s and pick him up. You two need to stop hurting everyone, including each other.”

  “Give me ten,” Taylor replied and then was about to hang up, but Ashley’s voice stopped her.

  “You need at least twenty. Drive careful, babe.”

  Careful wasn’t the problem; worry was. She couldn’t imagine the damage her words had done to all her fragile friendship flowers here.

  The moment she stopped her parents’ truck, Ashley stepped out with Mason.

  “There she is, the woman with the ice heart. Prettiest girl around and no one can touch her,” he slurred.

  “Oh, big boy, you had better shut up,” Ashley suggested, and Mason pushed her away, stumbling over to Taylor and, with surprising precision, drew her in to kiss her like there was no tomorrow.

  Like once before, he tasted of cheap whiskey and undeniably Mason. Taylor knew only that she was kissing him back when his stubble tickled her palm.

  “Fuck, Mason, again?” she cursed, gently pushing away from him.

  “Wait, what? Again?” Ash repeated, and Taylor nodded.

  “Before I left, he found me at the bus station.” Her eyes went from her former best friend to the guy who held her heart. His gray eyes focused on her as if he tried hard to remember that moment. “He was totally drunk and basically ordered me to stay after kissing me.”

  “Even then I wasn’t good enough. Never good enough for the perfect Taylor Collins,” Mason interrupted, and Taylor closed her eyes, rubbing them in mental exhaustion.

  “Time to take him home, Michigan. And tomorrow evenin’, I’ll come by with a bucket of ice cream, and we’ll talk.” Ash gave her a hard stare that she then softened with a smile.

  “I’ll heat the chocolate sauce,” Taylor promised and was relieved when Ashley hugged her.

  “Everyone loves Taylor! Everyone loves Ashley! No one loves Mason. Can I get an ‘oh’ everyone?” Mason called, but except for raised eyebrows, Mason didn’t get anything.

  Taylor opened the passenger door for him, and he climbed clumsily into the seat, instantly turning toward her as she climbed in the driver’s side. “Damn, you’re beautiful,” he said, and she rested her head against the steering wheel, noticing that she had to fight a smile.

  “Shut up, Mason. You can’t think straight. I sure hope your mom’s home,” she stated, and he reached out, brushing his thumb across her chin.

  “I can never think straight when you’re around. I can’t say the right words, or do the right things where it concerns you.” His tone was subdued, thoughtful, and Taylor wanted to believe that they could have a decent talk, but he was barely holding himself upright as it was, so silence was it for now. He made it hard, though, since his fingertips still danced across her skin, making their way from her chin to her cheek and then the back of her neck.

  “My little ice queen,” he whispered, and she swallowed, glad as they eventually came to a standstill in front of his house.

  Getting him up the porch steps and into the house was such a feat that they woke Stella, and she came out of her room, throwing on a blue morning robe.

  “Mother! Look who came into our home! The beautiful, ice-cold Taylor. The woman without a warm heart.” He was giving Taylor whiplash, and she didn’t like it one bit.

  Maneuvering him into the kitchen, she sat him down and filled a glass with water for him.

  “There, Mason. I’m out before you say even more things I won’t ever be able to forget or get over.”

  “What’s wrong with me, Taylor? Everyone gets a piece of you, yet none for me. I guess I wasn’t shiny enough back then, and I’m only a country boy now that the city girl is somethin’ better.”

  “Mason Stiles, shut your mouth,” his mother ordered, a warning clear in her voice, but Taylor was frozen to the spot.

  “Why, Mother? Taylor doesn’t care. She never did. Taylor only loves herself.” He rested his arms on the table and then lowered his forehead to them. “Taylor Collins can’t love the right guy because the wrong guys don’t threaten her independence,” he yawned and then it had taken less than thirty seconds before he was snoring.

  “I don’t know what to say,” Stella muttered in disbelief, but Taylor waved her off.

  “It’s not your fault, Stella. I’m …” She couldn’t speak, because she didn’t know what she was going to say. “When he wakes up, tell him his money will be back in his account by tomorrow. Tell him I apologize for what I said earlier to him. Everything but the part about never wanting to see him again.” She took one last look at the only guy who could ever truly break her. She left the house, running past her car and the stables toward the barn, but once she had the handle on the door, she figured she had to let go of all of it, even if it was the only sanctuary she’d ever had.

  ***

  Mason woke with a strain in his neck and an ache in his back as a cup of coffee was slammed down on the table next to his head. The noise almost made his skull explode. Why in the world was he at the table and not in his bed? His memory had a huge black hole, making him miss part of the night before. He remembered going to Dooley’s to get a drink and talk to someone, and only now, he reminded himself that this was never a good idea.

  “I see you’re alive,” his mother commented, and he lifted his head.

  “Alive is different, but at least I’m awake,” he replied and then noticed that his mother was glaring at him. “How did I get home?” he wondered, and she shrugged carelessly.

  “The ice queen brought you home,” she snarled, and Mason furrowed his brow. What the hell was that all about? His mother waited, but he clearly couldn’t remember.

  “Spill it,” he demanded.

  “It what you called Taylor before basically implyin’ she was a whore. A heartless one at that,” she explained, and Mason felt as if a truck had run him over.

  “What?” His voice was small.

  “Son, I think you need to have a coffee, brush your teeth, change, and then go over there. I don’t know what’s going on, but the two of you seem pretty broken right now. Whatever damage you did, you should try to contain it.”

  He got up, his headache replaced by regret. “Why did you let me talk?” he growled, and she rolled her shoulder in a shrug. He knew it wasn’t his mother’s fault, but he needed someone to blame.

  “She told me to tell you that she’s sorry for all she said … except the part about never wanting to see you again.”

  He had known that Taylor hadn’t meant any of the words she had said, yet he had gone to look for oblivion.

  “Fuck,” he cursed and then hurried up the stairs, getting ready in record time before stepping outside and noticing that, of course, his truck wasn’t in its usual spot. Not debating long, he turned toward the barn and followed the small path that led to the Collins’ property. Dew still covered the ground, and fog rose from the fields. He knew Taylor would be outside. She always had loved mornings because they offered her peace. And indeed, she was sitting on the porch steps, a steaming mug of coffee cradled in her palms. He watched her for a few moments, seeing her wipe away a tear. She cleared her throat and took a sip of her coffee as he forced himself to step forward. He knew if he waited any longer, he’d most likely turn away instead of talking to her.

  “Tay … Taylor.” He had to clear his throat twice in order to make his words heard, and her eyes snapped to him. She couldn’t hide the pain in them even though she almost instantly focused on the ground again. He licked his lips, wondering where best to start. How do you apologize for something you didn’t even remember?

  “I can’t …” She got up, and Mason knew that he should say something, but his mind was blank. He wanted to pull
her into his arms and tell her how sorry he was, but somehow, he was missing the right words.

  They looked at each other, and he knew that for this issue to be solved, someone needed to speak. Instead, it appeared as if they tried to remember each other because this was going to be the last time they saw the other one.

  “Remember I told you about this first kiss after high school? You said he was lucky because if he wanted to, he’d get a chance to do it right the second time around.” Queasiness threatened to overcome him as a dark premonition worked its way up his spine. He almost wished she wouldn’t continue. “Well, how many chances does a person need to get it right?” Her voice was breaking, and he shook his head, willing her to stop. “Well, I’ll tell you. I know three times is a charm, but you aren’t getting a third chance, Mason Stiles! Especially not since I’m such a terrible person in your mind.” She paused as if deciding it wasn’t worth it while tears rained down her cheeks.

  What the hell had he said? And why weren’t words coming out of his mouth?

  “For weeks after that kiss, I thought and prayed that you’d remember, and you’d come and find me, or at least call me, trying to convince me I made a mistake in leaving. It never happened. And then twelve years later, you, of all people, find me walking down the street. I slide into the seat next to you, and all I can think is how I wish that we could have a do over, and I’d agree to stay with you, while all you think about is how I consider myself better than anyone else is. I look at you and wish I could touch you and be touched by you when all you think is that I’m selfish and not able to love anyone.” She placed the mug down on the banister and then spread her arms as if showing him all he had lost. “A lot of the things you said yesterday afternoon were true, except that I never looked back. I missed you most of all, but coming back without any hope wasn’t in my plan. But all you said last night … God, Mason, what lies have I told myself about us? About the way you look at me even though I thought you were in love with Ash? I was ready to make it right for you two, but instead of being with her, you were with me. What do you think … You know, it doesn’t matter. This ice queen is done hurting you. I’m sorry for everything you think I should be sorry for.”

  He was talking too damn much when drunk and not enough when sober. Taylor turned away, and he leaped the three steps up her porch in one.

  “Wait, Taylor! Listen up, you nerve wracking woman!” He grabbed her, twisting her around and making her back hit the wall of the house. “You drive me crazy. You always did because when I see you, my whole body goes into overdrive. I can’t think straight, and clearly, when I’m drunk, I can do so even less. Fuck, Taylor, I don’t know what I said, but I was clearly and obviously fully out of line, yet while my tongue was loosened up, I still didn’t manage to say the damn words I should’ve.” He drowned his hands in his dark strands, holding onto them until it almost hurt. As long as he had no idea what he had said to put so much pain and self-hatred in those beautiful hazel eyes, he couldn’t say the words that were on the tip of his tongue because she wouldn’t believe them.

  He wanted to kiss the ever-loving hell out of her, but after two drunk kisses, she deserved more than a most likely painful and angry meeting of lips.

  “There’s somethin’ you and I have been doing wrong ever since you came back, Michigan,” he then stated, and she looked at him, her eyes wide and tear-filled. “We thought we could pick up where we left off, but we can’t because nothin’s the same. While it doesn’t change where my heart is at, it sure changes the way I’m gonna go about this. That is after I make last night up to you. Just one more thing, Taylor Collins. You’re my girl, and if you don’t believe me, ask Ash why she broke up with me – the real reason. I’m done hurtin’ you, too, Tay. I’ll only make you happy from now on. I promise.” He framed her face and pressed a kiss to her forehead before leaving the porch, not looking back.

  Mason had been right about Taylor and the farm, so while he still haunted her thoughts, she figured it was time to move forward. Her steps led her toward the stables, and Mason had been spot-on. They were empty. While it wasn’t exactly late in the season, she should make sure they’d be brought in soon. She knew, too, that they used to have horses, but for the last months, she couldn’t see any in the books. Taylor had simply assumed it was a mistake, but clearly, it had been the truth. She had no idea what happened to them but sure intended to find out. It as well made her wonder how they dealt with the cows since trucks could do only do so much and getting cows together didn’t work with them.

  There was no sign of horses in the stables, either, and frankly, it made her long for one just so she could take a ride and clear her head.

  She walked along the wooden doors, looking for hay, crawling up the storage space, too, but there was nothing. While the cows didn’t need it during the summer, horses would’ve needed it. She really didn’t have any on this stupid farm.

  “First thing to be rectified,” she whispered to herself.

  “What’s that, boss?” She jumped, turning toward the cowboy who now stood in the stables with her.

  “Don’t call me boss. I haven’t been very bossy.” She laughed, walking over to the guy she had never seen before. He was your typical cowboy: jeans, flannel shirt, boots, and a cowboy hat. When she came closer, she noticed a scar on his eyebrow and a slightly crooked nose, but it took nothing away from his handsome looks. Blond hair and blue eyes completed him, but while he was beautiful, his classical good looks did nothing for her.

  “I’m Daniel,” he introduced himself, and she shook his hand. “You have a strong grip. I like that.” He grinned, and she winked.

  “Country girl, despite what they say. Honestly, though, up in Michigan, I learned that it makes a hell of a difference to the men you’re doing business with, so I know how to shake hands. I’m Taylor Collins,” she gave back.

  “Heard a lot about ya, lady.” He nodded, and she groaned.

  “Whatever they say, less than half is true, I’m sure. At least, I think so.” She shrugged. “And I was talking about horses. I think we need some again,” she explained, deciding to finally deal with her farm.

  “Your horses are at the Stiles’ farm,” he reported, and she wondered if there was anything Mason hadn’t done for her family.

  She pursed her lips. “Well, let’s get them back. I like taking care of horses, and it’ll give me something to do besides the books. So, next up, I need to find out what’s missing, what needs to be done, and what we need to plan money for.” She arched a brow in question, and he rubbed the back of his neck.

  “I sure hope you have some time, lady,” he stated, and Taylor sighed.

  “Let’s get started. Timmy is getting back by lunch, but until then, I’m all yours,” she promised.

  “Best sentence I’ve heard all morning.” He flirted with her! While Taylor felt flattered, she decided to let him down easy.

  “Charming, but there’s work to do, and while I have no doubt you do your job perfectly, I’ve been slacking at mine. I really need a rundown on all that’s been happening.”

  He lowered his eyes, silent laughter on his lips. “Got it. Let’s go and start with the barn then,” he suggested, and she nodded. His tone was no less warm but much more businesslike.

  They entered the huge space, and Taylor spotted the hay. Clearly, the horses had been relocated since she had left and no longer stayed in the stables but were usually in the barn.

  “There’s somethin’ classical about horses in a barn, so your father thought it was a better place for them. I actually agree,” Daniel told her, and she nodded. The stalls had been built big enough so each animal would be able to lie down. She counted four and liked that. It was a nice number and something they sure could handle.

  “Equipment?”

  He pointed at a closed door in the back of the barn. “Still there. Mase picked them up with one of his own, so everythin’s still in place. It might need some cleanin’ and some wipin’ dow
n, but other than that, you should be fine. I do have to tell you, though, that your horse is no longer among them.”

  She had figured as much, but it still hurt.

  “It was old, very old. Just couldn’t get up anymore. It was for the best.” She breathed a sigh of relief, wondering if he’d been able to read her that well or if Tammy had mentioned how she’d feel.

  “Well, I guess I shouldn’t have been surprised.” She laughed through the tears that had come to her eyes.

  “Your father bought you a new one. I know it’s not my place, and I should probably not comment on it, but your father loved you. He just loved your mother more, I think. After she was gone, he was a different man.”

  “Damn, how long have you been working on the farm?” she asked, trying to rein in her emotions.

  “I came the summer after you left. It was the first summer I worked here. I came back the summer after that and eventually was here longer. After he had left, Tammy hired me full time because she figured …” He stopped, another time rubbing the back of his neck. “So we need more hay if we get the horses back.”

  She didn’t mind the topic change. She couldn’t believe that her little sister had known her so well.

  “I owned a business when I was away, and I had ten employees. I should be able to handle this here,” she whispered, and he turned back to her after having started to walk toward the cattle paddocks.

  “It was somethin’ you loved, not somethin’ you had to do. It’ll take some time, but trust me, you’ll come around. I’ll make it easy for ya,” he promised with a wink, and Taylor couldn’t help but feel better.

  “No doubt.” She grinned, and then fell into step next to him, making a mental note to pick an especially thankful card for him for Christmas.

  After everything was done, Taylor went into the house and jotted down everything she’d need to take care of, and then she dialed her sister.

  “Collins?”

  “Collins, too,” she replied, and Tammy started squealing. The girl sounded much better than the last time Taylor had heard her. “Sounds like you have a great roommate and a lot of fun?”

 

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