Boss Of Her Heart

by Shanna Handel

  “And where is my good morning kiss?”

  “Ah—how could I forget that too?”

  Leaning in slowly, his lips met mine. There was an electricity there as he pressed them firmly. The tip of his tongue found its way into my mouth, just barely entering and caressing. Detaching from me, he pulled back slightly, murmuring, “Good morning to you, Bella.”

  “It is turning out to be a lovely morning, isn’t it?” I murmured back.

  A lovely morning turned into a lovely day. I was surprised when Garrett came to collect me from the barn to take me home before lunch was even served.

  Keeping an aura of mystery around him, he refused to answer my questions as we piled into his truck. “Where to, little bit?” he asked, his hands on ten and two as always.

  “I don’t know. Don’t we need to work?”

  “Not this afternoon. You’re with the boss, and the boss says we’re playing hooky. Besides, I haven’t taken you on a proper date yet. That’s shameful, seeing as you’ve been my girlfriend for all of thirty-five hours. Have you eaten?”

  “Not in so many words,” I answered, thinking of the bites of ice cream I had stirred into my coffee that morning after writing ‘cream’ on my shopping list.

  “I’ll take that as a ‘no’,” he said, raising a stern brow towards me. “How about The Grill?”

  “Sounds good. Greasy spoons are my kind of place.”

  “You mean they cater to picky?” he teased.

  “I am not picky,” I protested, knowing full well I was.

  “Well, you can order anything at The Grill, just the way you want it. I won’t even make you eat a horrid—God forbid—vegetable. Though they have the best home fries this side of Texas.”

  I laughed. “I can make an exception for potatoes,” I acquiesced.

  “Good. The Grill it is.” He turned the truck onto Main Street. “Do you want to talk about yesterday? About Evan?”

  “Not if you don’t. Honestly, I could use a break from living in the past.”

  “I think I’d like that,” he said with a smile.

  We ordered breakfast for lunch. Me, scrambled eggs, bacon, toast and a side of home fries. For Garrett a steak and veggie omelet with a side of fries. We happily munched away, chatting about lighter topics.

  Dropping me off at my house, Garrett looked at his watch anxiously. “Listen, I hate to run, but I have somewhere I have to be. Can I call you tonight?”

  “Sure.” I closed the door to the truck, walking myself up to my door. Garrett pulled away and onto the road before he saw I was safely in. Silly, but it hurt my feelings as he had made it a habit to do so every other time he had taken me home.

  I went inside flipping on lights and locking the door behind me. The place was spotless from my earlier cleaning. I was still full from my meal at The Grill. I had spoken with Oliver that morning, so no need to call and bug him tonight. The empty evening seemed to stretch in front of me, looming with loneliness.

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” I muttered to myself, plopping down on the couch and picking up the remote control. I shouldn’t be feeling lonely when I had just had an incredible date with my boyfriend, after spending the day working with him and some really sweet kids. Every grown adult needed to know how to spend time alone with themselves, and I was no exception. I used to know how to spend an evening alone. Before Garrett that was.

  Getting up, I went to the fridge thinking a little ice cream might curb my case of loneliness. I looked over all my old friends, the different flavors seeming to call out ‘pick me! pick me’. I put my hand around the side of the Chubby Hubby. The words almost made me cry—I missed Garrett so much. And he wasn’t even my hubby. What on Earth was wrong with me?

  I sat back down on the couch, watching old movies and waiting for the phone to ring. I picked up the phone and looked at the screen. My phone was on. I picked it up again and pressed the button on the side, just to be sure the volume for the ringer was up loud enough for me to hear it. It was. I swiped down on the screen and double checked that there had been no missed calls. There hadn’t.

  Finally, I couldn’t take it any longer. Picking up the phone, I dialed Boss Man Garrett Love. I nibbled nervously at my nail as it rang. He said he would call me, not for me to call him. One ring, two rings, three rings, four rings. My mood brightened when I heard Garrett’s voice, but then fell again when I processed the words, “Garrett Love. You know what to do at the sound of the beep.”

  “Ugh.” I threw my head back into the cushion behind my head. Agitatedly, I tapped on the arm of my couch, my eyes roving around the room. “What would it hurt to call again?” I murmured.

  Dialing the number, a rock formed in the pit of my stomach. Two calls in a row meant one of two things, the person on the other end of the line had an emergency or was a stalker. My fingertip tapping at twice the speed now, I held my breath as the ringing of his phone buzzed in my ear.

  “Bella?” The voice sounded breathless… and worried. Situation one—he picked up because he thought I had an emergency. Whoops.

  “Uh—hi, Garrett. What are you up to?”

  His tone was serious as he demanded, “Bella—are you okay?”

  “Yes, I just—”

  “Thank God,” he murmured. “When you called twice, my mind instantly went to the worst. Don’t you know you only double call in an emergency?”

  “Yes, but—”

  “Bella, I can’t talk now. I’m with Jessica and we have some things we need to discuss.”

  Jessica. The name of the beautiful, blonde, ex-fiancée hit me right in my gut, making a sour bile rise to my throat. My temper flared before I could convince myself to stay in control. “You have time to talk to Jessica, but can’t talk to me?”

  The stern tone that reached through the phone wasn’t enough to calm me. “Bella—be reasonable.”

  Shameful, I know, but thinking of Garrett with the beautiful blonde suddenly had me feeling all kinds of insecure. I sat silently on the other end, unsure of what to say.

  “Bella, you there? Answer me… Bella?”

  Closing my eyes, I took a deep breath and said, “Yeah—I’m here.” Before he had a chance to respond, I said, “But I’ll let you go now.” Then ended the call.

  Turning my phone off, I tossed it on the cushion next to me. Again, my eyes wandered around the lonely house. “I have to get out of here,” I said, jumping up from my sagging seat. I couldn’t be alone another moment, and I couldn’t be here in this house.

  Shrugging into my thin jacket, I picked up my car keys before I remembered that my only mode of transportation was of no use to me. “Damn,” I mused to myself. Looking down at my boots, I realized I still had one way to get around. The one that was as old as time—my two capable feet.

  Stepping out into the cool evening, I shut my front door. Shoving my hands into the pockets of my jacket, I looked right then left. Making my decision, I headed for Main Street. It was only about a mile past the laundromat where I had washed my clothes before Garrett had sent me the washer and dryer. Thinking of Garrett, I pushed down the feelings of guilt over the way I had handled our brief phone conversation.

  The mature, reasonable thing to do would be to go back to the house, turn the phone on, call and apologize. But something about the way he had said, “Bella, be reasonable,” had me holding onto what was left of my temper and kept my feet moving towards Main Street.

  It was a moonless night and street lights were few and far between. Knowing Poke was the safest town in Texas, I still jumped at every sound in the dark night.

  Finally, I reached the little strip that was downtown, historic, Main Street. I walked by the businesses, checking my options. Five and Dime, closed. Sarah’s Cakes, closed. The Grill, closed. Post Office—not sure what I would do there, but it didn’t matter because it was closed too. The only thing open was Ray’s.

  Ray’s was a bar. I was a recovered alcoholic. People who had problems with alcohol did not belong in bars.
Therefore, I did not belong in bars. Ray’s was a bar. Ray’s was also the only place that was open past eight p.m. within a three-mile radius of where I was. And I was done walking. Peeking through the windows, I saw the laughing faces of the people who were having a night out. A fun time with a couple of drinks to lighten the mood, take away the stress of the day.

  I also saw the other crowd you find in a bar. The lonely ones seated at the bar, drinking to feel numb. The ones I used to be. Steeling my nerves, I opened the door.

  A few faces turned my way. No one really took notice of me, or as I expected, jumped up from their seat, proclaiming, “You can’t be in here. Didn’t you used to be a raging alcoholic?”

  I shyly slid onto a barstool, trying not to draw any attention to myself. The bartender, an older gentleman with a graying beard, made his way over to me.

  “Name’s Glenn. What can I get you, pretty lady?” he asked, sliding a coaster and a tin of peanuts in front of me.

  Sitting up on my stool, I made my request. “I’ll have a glass of milk, please.”

  Eyebrow raising in surprise, but making no comment, Glenn went to the fridge. Pulling a chilled glass from a small freezer, he poured the milk to the top of the cup.

  Bringing it back to me, he put it on the coaster, giving me a wink and saying, “On the house.”

  At that moment, I realized I had come here with no purse, no money. I hadn’t locked my front door. I left my keys in my house. And I had walked, alone, through the dark night to get here.

  And the very worst of my transgressions, I had put myself in the most dangerous situation possible for someone like me. I had entered a bar.

  Standing from my seat without a word of explanation, I turned, running from Ray’s. Pushing the door open, hard, I broke out into the black night, pulling a deep breath of air into my lungs.

  Taking a few deeper breaths, I began walking towards my house. The streets seemed even darker now, only the dim light of the few street lights shone. There was still no moon to speak of. I could barely see my feet as I hurried along the sidewalk.

  The town of Poke was the safest around I continued to tell myself. I jumped as I heard the hiss of a cat in the bushes as I passed by. Maybe walking home hadn’t been my best idea yet.

  Just as I was sure that the hoot of an owl was that of an evil spirit coming to haunt me, I heard a car approaching fast. Shielding my eyes from the headlights, I looked behind me as the car slowed in my presence. Looking around at my feet for something to protect myself with. Spying a rock with a sharp edge, I grabbed it up into my hands, clenching my fingers around it tightly. I was prepared to use my weapon. I could at least gouge an eye out of my assailant.

  Holding my breath, I prepared myself to take a life as the car pulled up next to me. The window rolled down, but it was too dark to make out the face. But I knew the voice instantly.

  “Bella Buchanan, get your ass in this truck this very instant.”

  Considering his face, I decided I had best do as he said. Dropping the rock, I hurried around the front of the truck and opened the passenger side door. The interior light came on and I was greeted by the face of my furious boss boyfriend.

  As soon as I had shut the passenger door of the truck, his angry string of words began. “What the hell are you doing walking home? I thought I told you that if I so much as saw your thumb out on the side of the road I would tear your ass up.”

  “I wasn’t hitchhiking.”

  “What were you doing?”

  “I was walking home.”

  His palms came down hard on the steering wheel. “I don’t know what’s worse. Walking home on your own in the dark, or hitchhiking. You have a total and complete disregard for your safety.” His voice dropped an octave and when he spoke again, it gave me chills. He was livid in that cool, calm way when you surpass being angry. His low voice rumbled.

  “Where were you walking home from?”

  I was too scared to say.

  “Bella.” He said my name like a threat and I instantly broke my silence.

  “Ray’s,” I whispered.

  “You were in a bar?”

  “Yes.”

  A deadly silence filled the cab of the truck. I held my breath, unable to inhale while I waited for the explosion. It remained quiet, which suddenly seemed worse than if he would have yelled at me. Garrett slowly began the drive back to my house. The truck inched down the road as I snuck peeks at him from the corner of my eyes. His brow was strained, his flashing eyes livid. The muscles of his jaw were clenched tightly.

  “What were you doing there?”

  “I just wanted to… go out?”

  “Were you thinking of drinking?”

  “No. I just wanted to feel what it was like to be somewhere else. You know? Somewhere other than my lonely house.”

  “So. Let me get this straight… you hung up on me, walked alone in the dark, and went to—of all places—a bar.”

  “It was the only place that was open.”

  “Doesn’t matter. You shouldn’t have gone in.”

  I sat quietly, my hands folded in my lap. My cheeks burned as he snuck furious glances at me in between his steady stares at the road.

  “You and I don’t get to go to bars anymore. Not to sit, not to chat, not to take in the atmosphere. It is off limits, little girl. I can’t even believe you were in there. Weren’t you tempted to drink?”

  “I didn’t drink, Garrett Love. I had a glass of milk,” I spat at him with venom in my voice.

  His voice was dark—borderline dangerous—when he spoke again. “But were you tempted?”

  I thought about those foaming pints of draft beer sitting on the polished wood countertop, condensation forming on the edges of the cold glass. The thought of the feel of the alcohol warming my body as I watched a man snap his head back, downing a shot of Jack Daniel’s whiskey. The warm floating feeling after the first drink, leading to the heady deadening feeling of the twelfth.

  “Yes, all right. Are you happy now? I was tempted to drink.” For the first time in five years I had come dangerously close to tasting the elixir of the intoxicating nectar. But I had ordered a milk.

  “Are you so sure you want to get fresh with me, little girl? You’ve already gotten yourself in a heap of trouble as it is.”

  This was the ‘just wait until we get home’ moment I had been waiting for in our relationship. Only instead of my tummy being filled with butterflies, a ball of ice formed there.

  Giving him a sidelong glance, I shivered at the set of his chiseled jaw. I had crossed some type of line with Mr. Love and I was going to pay dearly for it. I could tell. Giving a gulp, I folded my hands tighter in my lap, pressing my knees together and making myself take up as little room as possible in the truck. Almost as if to make him forget I was here. Forget that I had gone to a bar, then tried to walk home by myself in the dark.

  “Why were you with Jessica?” I asked shyly.

  Sighing, he ran a hand through his hair. “I was with Jessica, and her husband. I was giving them my will. The one that says when I pass away, Evan inherits half of what is mine of the ranch. It’s been weighing on me ever since the conversation he and I had at the Burger Barn. I wanted it to be official—to hold tight to my word. And to do it right away. It’s how I do things now. Or over the past ten years actually.”

  Oops. I guess I could have asked that question a lot sooner instead of hanging up the phone and hightailing it to a bar.

  “How’d you find me?” I asked, curious and trying to change the subject.

  “After our fight… after you hung up the phone, I came straight to your house. I didn’t want to leave our conversation like that. When you didn’t answer, I went looking for you. I figured you went on a walk to blow off steam. Then I tried the grocery—you are out of dish soap after all—then I just had this sick feeling. I knew I needed to check Ray’s.” I could feel his heated gaze raking over me before he continued his story. “Bartender said there had been a cute, li
ttle redhead in there. Ordered a glass of milk, looking scared as a kitten, then left. I drove down the road a bit, and there you were. I was relieved to find you in one piece.”

  “You don’t look relieved. You look angry.”

  “I am angry. About as angry as I’ve ever been. And just about as relieved as I’ve ever been. Bella—I’ve never been that worried about someone in my whole life.”

  Slowly he pulled the truck over onto the wide shoulder of the road. Putting the gearshift into park, he ran his hands through his hair. Turning his lean body towards me, his gaze locked on mine. There was a flash of an emotion I couldn’t quite read as his stare bore into mine.

  “Bella. I’m only this angry because I care so much about you. It’s caught me off guard how worried I get, how much concern I feel for your safety. How much I miss you when you’re not there. My heart literally stopped when there was no answer at your door tonight. Tell me the only logical explanation for why I feel this way, Bella Buchanan.”

  “I don’t know, but I feel the same way about you.”

  “I love you, Bella. That’s why. I am in love with you.”

  I held my breath as he reached out, stroking my hair softly. His fingertips trailed across my cheek, underneath my chin resting there as he continued. “I’m in love with you. I’ve known it all along, but I couldn’t vocalize it until tonight. When I was looking for you all I could think is ‘I love that girl and she doesn’t even know it yet’.”

  “I love you, too,” I breathed.

  A bright light gleamed in his eyes in response to my words. He leaned in, kissing me, hard. The kiss was passionate and deep and left my lips feeling bruised. It melted me right to my core, even the block of ice that had first formed when I knew I was in deep trouble.

  My hands went into his hair. Reaching up, he untwined my fingers from their hold.

  Pulling away, he said, “First things first.”

  “What?” I asked dumbly, heat flushed in my face and my body straining towards his. I wanted to keep kissing.

  “A little visit to my office.”

  The nervous butterflies took flight in my stomach as I considered his face. His jaw was now set again, his dark eyes flashing. An arched brow rose all the way up to his tousled hair.