by Donna Alward
Before he could, her jaw tightened and her gaze cooled. “What I expected, Pax? I expected us to try. But you never even gave us a chance.”
Chapter Two
She needed to focus for the events of the afternoon, so why couldn’t he just leave well enough alone?
Megan put her hands in her pockets and met his gaze evenly. “I don’t want to be friendly, Pax. What I want is a few hours of peace and quiet to prepare for my ride this afternoon.”
“I just want to make amends.” His eyes pleaded with her, eyes that had been able to convince her of just about anything once upon a time. But she was older, wiser. He was right about one thing. She had wanted to finish vet school. She’d had plans. Plans she’d seen through to the end. If they’d stayed together, would those plans have been derailed? She wanted to say no, but honestly she couldn’t say for sure. Neither of them had a crystal ball.
“Consider them made, then,” she responded. “I haven’t waited around for five years for an apology, Pax. I’ve got my own life. I’m pretty happy with it.”
And she was, for the most part. Besides, every word she’d spoken was the truth. She hadn’t waited for an apology because she didn’t want one. Apologies didn’t wipe out the months of hurt she’d felt after he’d casually tossed her aside as if their time together had meant nothing to him at all.
“I’ve got to go,” she added. “I’ll see you around.”
She was only a few feet away when his voice called her back. “Megan, about the bull riding...”
Here we go, she thought, half turning around.
“Be careful, okay?”
She swallowed against a sudden lump in her throat. Why did he have to be here, stirring up feelings she hadn’t had to deal with in years? “Don’t worry,” she replied, pasting on a brittle smile. “I always take care to protect myself.”
She turned around and walked away, refusing to look back. She had to put him from her mind. No distractions. Distractions meant mistakes.
And she didn’t make mistakes. Not anymore.
* * *
Pax sat in the stands, one knee bouncing uncontrollably as the second competitor was launched into the air by a bull with the appropriate name of Hot Sauce. Megan was third, and he could see her preparing already. At least she took care to protect herself with a cordura vest and helmet. He knew a lot of guys didn’t like the extra gear, but he’d seen enough injuries over the years to be relieved Megan showed some sense. She looked so small as she balanced at the top of the chute, gloved hand ready to take the rope while the announcer introduced her to the crowd. What on earth possessed her to go in for bull riding anyway? She’d always been a little daring and fiercely independent. They were qualities he’d instantly liked about her. But this was taking it a bit far.
His heart seemed to skip a beat as the chute opened and over a thousand pounds of bull plunged into the arena.
She held on as the clock ticked...one hand in the air, her body absorbing jolt after jolt as the bull bucked and twisted, trying to unseat her.
Four seconds. Five. Six. Was she going to do it? Stay on for the full eight seconds? His breath caught as the clock ticked on.
The clock stopped at seven point four as the bull, Tequila, abruptly twisted in the opposite direction and added a kick, sending Megan flying through the air and toward the soft floor of the arena.
Pax’s chest cramped as he saw her hit the dirt, her body motionless as the bull careened away, still bucking. He only started breathing again when she popped up and headed straight for the railing, boosting herself up over the side as the bullfighters led the bull away and out.
Seven point four and it had been a good, solid ride. When the points went up on the board, she was in first place. He wasn’t sure if he was horrified or proud of her as she pumped her fist in the air.
He stayed for the rest of the event. Jacob Baron stayed on for the full eight seconds and took over first, and his brother Jet came in a close second, bumping her into third. Daniel Baron placed sixth.
She’d ride again tomorrow—both in the barrel racing finals and on the bulls. She’d always been an achiever. It looked like nothing had changed.
He’d been right to do what he did, to set her free. It just hadn’t been without consequences. Like the fact that he’d never gotten over her. All it had taken was seeing her today to know that there was a lot left unresolved between them. The question was—did he want to fix it or simply let it go, once and for all?
He should leave well enough alone. He’d made his apology. He was content running the ranch, breeding quality bucking stock that was growing in demand. It was a good living. What he should do was finish out the weekend, load up the stock and go back home where he belonged. Forget about her.
He left the stands, checked on the stock, wandered through the grounds for a while. He stopped and grabbed a burger from one of the food vendors and washed it down with a soda, considered hanging around for the evening events just to kill time. But it wasn’t his speed and it wasn’t much fun doing that sort of thing solo, so he headed back to the motel where he’d booked a room yesterday. He’d take a shower, maybe watch some TV. Chill.
His parents enjoyed this part of the business and he was happy to leave it to them. They traveled together, met up with other ranchers they’d known over the years. It was like vacation and work all blended into one for the middle-aged couple. But it definitely wasn’t his thing. Different motels every weekend, fast food, crowds of strangers...
Yet another reason why their match would never have worked out. Megan clearly loved the circuit. A girl like her would never be content to settle down in one place, would she? She needed adventure, and he hadn’t been in a position to offer any.
He’d done them both a favor, he repeated to himself. And wondered who he was trying to convince.
The water was hot and plentiful, and he put on clean jeans and a shirt. He flipped through the television channels listlessly, only half focusing on the images on the screen. His mind kept drifting to Megan, the determined set to her lips, the flash in her eyes as she faced him. The way she’d flown off the back of that bull, making his heart stop—and how she’d climbed the rails on nimble feet, making him breathe again.
He shut off the television. The motel room felt claustrophobic; he needed to get out and do something, anything, to keep himself distracted. Another few days and he’d head back home and they wouldn’t have to see each other again. He wouldn’t have all the reminders of their past together. Because right now the images floating through his brain were five years old and a little bit X-rated.
Pax pulled on his boots, shoved his wallet in his back pocket and headed out, pulling the door shut behind him. A neon sign announced a bar across the street, and he figured he’d head over, grab a beer, pass some time before heading back to the motel for some shut-eye.
Inside the rustic establishment, the country music was blaring at about twenty decibels louder than necessary. One end of the bar held half a dozen pool tables, and the sharp report of cue hitting ball snapped through the air, off-beat with the music. There was a good-sized dance floor surrounded by tables and booths, two different bars to elbow up to, and one motionless mechanical bull that would likely see more action as the evening—and the drinking—progressed.
He made his way to the bar and ordered a beer. He leaned back against the dark wood, taking a long, refreshing sip, feeling out of place and, frankly, old. He was only twenty-seven, for God’s sake. But he’d been shouldering the full responsibility of the ranch for years now. Most of the time he felt about forty. Or older. He was pretty sure that managing Lantry Meadows had given him more than one or two gray hairs.
A familiar laugh touched his ears and he turned toward the sound. His body tightened instinctively as he saw Megan there, her chestnut-brown hair hanging over one shoulder in a s
ingle big curl. Snug jeans, boots and a plain T-shirt drew attention to her toned body without distracting from the attractiveness of her face. Twenty-six and still as fresh and doe-eyed as she’d been at twenty-one. He imagined ranchers were very happy to have her making calls on their stock. He’d be tempted to pay for a few callouts just to see that slightly sweet, slightly sharp smile.
As if she sensed him staring, she looked over and the laugh on her lips died. She paused for only a moment before turning back to the people in her party and laughing again, gesturing with a hand.
Pax looked closer and realized she was talking to members of the Baron family. They’d be sure to have some stock here this weekend, too, as well as lots of competitors. Right now Jet was smiling down at her and, if he remembered right, the girls were Carly and Savannah. Both had barrel raced for a while. Both were pretty, too, the kind of faces a man didn’t forget.
It wasn’t the Baron sisters getting his blood up, though. It was the proprietary way Jet was gazing down at Megan. Like she was dessert. With Jet’s reputation...
He drained his beer and put the empty on the bar, inhaled deeply and casually made his way across the bar to where they were standing. “Evening, Megan,” he said, right behind her shoulder.
She kept talking as though she hadn’t heard him, but he’d seen her shoulders tense just a little at the sound of his voice. She was not an easy woman, and damn if he didn’t like her all the more for it.
Jet saw him and held out a hand. “Pax Lantry, isn’t it? I usually see your dad at these things.”
He gripped Jet’s hand. “That’s right. And you’re Jet. Saw you ride today. Heard you’ve got your own place now, too.”
Jet nodded. “That’s right. Not far from the main ranch. But mine.”
Pax was momentarily jealous. He’d never had the choice to build his own place. But then, the Meadows was practically his anyway. What else would he have done if not taken on the business?
Megan turned around and raised an eyebrow. “Oh, Pax. I didn’t know you were here.”
Pretty little liar. She said the words too innocently to be believable. He regarded her blandly and replied, “You must not have heard me say hello. The music is pretty loud in here.”
“Isn’t it?” she replied, and he fought the urge to laugh. That glint was back in her eyes again.
He looked over her shoulder and smiled at Carly and Savannah. She’d been talking to Carly when he’d shown up this morning, he remembered. “Ladies,” he said, nodding and smiling.
Savannah held out her hand. “Paxton Lantry, right? Haven’t seen you in ages.”
He shook her hand. “I tend to stick around the ranch.” As if he had much of a choice.
“Yes,” Megan added, “you really can’t tear Pax away from Lantry Meadows.”
A little hostility underlined her words and Pax frowned. Jet seemed oblivious, but Carly looked slightly uncomfortable at the tension that had popped up between them again.
“I didn’t know you knew Megan,” Jet said, hooking his thumbs in his pockets. Jet took a mere half step closer to Megan’s side and Pax knew exactly what he was doing. Sending a message.
“Oh, Pax and I go way back,” Megan offered, smiling a little too brightly. “Don’t we, Pax?”
One of them had to keep things on an even keel, so he smiled politely and nodded. “We dated back when Megan was in vet school. A long time ago now.” He smiled at Jet. “She nearly bested you today, pal.”
Jet grinned. “Nearly, but not quite. That’s my brother’s job.”
Pax hoped Megan would take the bait and change the subject to the weekend’s events, anything other than their relationship. But maybe she was still irked, maybe she’d had a few drinks, because she wasn’t about to leave it alone.
“Dated? Is that what you call it, Pax?”
He swallowed. He shouldn’t have come over here. Why had he again?
Because he was a fool, that’s why.
“Would you call it something different, Megan?” He hadn’t meant to answer her so sharply, but he was getting a little tired of being made to feel like the Big Bad Wolf every time she looked at him. He’d done what was best—for both of them. He’d been in no position to offer a woman anything once his father had been rushed to hospital.
Someone cleared their throat. Carly stepped forward. “Look, I think you guys need to talk. There’s obviously some unfinished business between you.”
Megan looked startled. “Oh, never mind that! Let’s get another round and chill for a while.”
Savannah frowned a little. “We’re just going to get a booth over there.” She motioned to a corner where a trio of booths sat empty.
“Guys, it’s okay...” Megan looked from one to the other.
“Are you really that afraid to talk to me?” Pax challenged her.
That was all he needed to say, apparently. “Me, afraid? That’s your thing, not mine.”
The Baron siblings slid away and took over a high-backed booth, leaving Pax and Megan standing alone.
* * *
Megan looked up at him, felt her brow furrow as she studied his face. She wasn’t usually this...well, snotty. She simply didn’t know what to say or how to say it when it came to Pax. She wanted him to know how badly he had hurt her but at the same time, wanted to protect herself, and the result was behavior she knew was fairly unbecoming and perhaps a bit immature.
“I’m sorry,” she offered, and meant it. “I’m not usually such a brat.”
“I’m not sure if I should be flattered or offended that I bring out that side of you,” he replied, a ghost of a smile flirting with the corners of his mouth.
“You don’t exactly make it easy.”
“I know.” His gaze caught hers. “Despite what you might think, this isn’t easy for me, either.”
Why? She wondered. Was it guilt? Or did he have unresolved feelings, too? Maybe they should talk it through. She’d carried a fair amount of bitterness around where he was concerned. Maybe finally hashing it all out would mean she could leave him behind—for good. Obviously she hadn’t done such a great job of that to this point, considering the way her pulse quickened every time he was around.
They had to raise their voices to hear each other. Megan scanned the bar and saw a table in a corner, away from the speakers. “Want to sit over there for a few minutes? It’s kind of loud to carry on a conversation here.”
“I’ll buy you a drink. What would you like?”
She considered a little vodka for courage, but dismissed the idea just as quickly. “Just a soda,” she replied, nerves tumbling around in her stomach. This was not how she imagined this weekend going at all.
She went to the table to wait, fiddling with her thumbs until he came back, carrying a soda and a beer. When he took a seat across from her, she sipped at the drink hastily to cover her nervousness.
They’d gone to the trouble of finding a place to talk and now neither of them were saying anything.
He took a swig from his bottle and looked around the bar, then back at her again. “If you don’t want to do this now...it’s okay if you’ve changed your mind.”
“No, no. Of course not. This is fine.” She offered him a weak smile. “I’m nervous, okay?”
“You don’t have to be. Just get what you want to say off your chest, Megan. I don’t want to play games.”
Her chest cramped. “Honest questions and honest answers? Are you sure you’re ready for that?”
His gaze was steady. “I don’t know. I guess all we can do is try it and see how it goes.”
More silence. And once again Pax took the lead. “You want to start, Megan? I get the feeling you have a lot to say.”
It sounded slightly like an accusation and was just enough to prompt her to ask the question she
’d been dying to ask for nearly five years. “Why didn’t you answer any of my emails or call me back?”
He leaned a little bit forward and answered steadily and evenly. “I didn’t want to prolong the inevitable or make it harder than it had to be.”
A flash of anger shot through her veins. “Inevitable? Why on earth was it inevitable?”
Pax looked away for a moment. “Megan...”
“Honest answers, remember? Shit, Pax. If you didn’t have the guts to tell me the truth then, can’t you do it now? I’m a big girl. I can take it.”
“It wasn’t about guts...”
“Actually, it was.” She took a long, fortifying drink and then crushed the tip of her straw between her thumb and forefinger. “All you said was that you couldn’t be with me anymore. That it was too hard. Didn’t I deserve more of an explanation?”
Pax had been turning his beer bottle around in a circle on the table, but now he stopped. A muscle ticked in his jaw. “More?” he asked, his voice brittle. “Come on, Megan. If I’d emailed or called, you would have pushed and we would have gone around in circles, solving nothing. You know that as well as I do.”
Her cheeks heated beneath his scrutiny and her gaze slipped to the tabletop. He was right, and she took a moment to collect herself by taking another long drink of soda.
“We both know you wouldn’t have let it go. You would’ve demanded answers, made a scene. And it would have drawn things out, when nothing would have changed my mind.”
“So I didn’t deserve an explanation because you were afraid of a few tears? See, I was right. It was cowardly.” She looked up at him as the song changed and an old Johnny Cash tune twanged through the bar.
After a few beats, his voice came, slightly lower, slightly mollified. “Maybe it was. Maybe it was the only way I knew how to do the right thing.”
