He cleared his throat. “Can I give you a ride home?”
She muttered something under her breath.
“Pardon?”
She turned, slower this time. Shoving her hands into her pockets, she said, “I’d forgotten I didn’t drive here tonight.”
He had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from grinning at her tone. For a woman so proud and poised, she looked like she might start kicking the dirt with the toe of that pretty but totally impractical boot of hers.
He had a feeling that if he laughed now, he’d never see her again. So he held it in and walked past her, shoving his hands into his pockets as well to keep from reaching out to her. “Let me just grab my keys. Unless you want dessert?”
She fell into step beside him and he saw her shake her head. “No….thank you.” She added the ‘thank you’ grudgingly as if realizing belatedly that she ought to be polite.
He raced through the house, avoiding his siblings as he snagged the ranch truck’s keys and met Claire in the front hall by the door. She looked just as eager to escape as he felt. For him that feeling was normal. Something told him her urge to run was unique to this situation and largely influenced by him.
And that kiss.
He should never have done it. He hadn’t been thinking, that was the long and short of it. Claire was a woman who deserved more than fleeting kisses in a dark barn. She deserved far more than he was capable of giving. Not to mention, she belonged to a different world.
As he ushered her into the car and took a seat behind the wheel, he was sure to treat her with the utmost care and respect, not letting his touch linger on her arm or his gaze rest on her lips, which were still swollen and red from that kiss.
Not that he was noticing. He most decidedly was not.
She was quiet as he drove slowly down the winding, dirt road that led from the ranch to the main road. Her silence lasted so long he nearly jumped when she finally spoke just as they were turning onto the highway.
“What did you mean, then, when you were talking to your brother?” She turned slightly to face him. “You never did explain.”
Ah heck. He could feel heat creep up his neck and he shifted in discomfort. He’d made such a mess of things tonight. The least he owed her was the truth and somehow the truth seemed easier to say in the dim lighting of the truck.
“Believe it or not, this is one of those situations where I can honestly say, it’s not you, it’s me,” he started.
“I believe it.” Her voice was so soft he turned in surprise and saw that her lips were turned up in a teasing smile.
He let out a short surprised laugh. “Yeah, well, in this case it’s not just because you’re too good for me….” He glanced at her out of the side of his eye. “Which we all know to be true.”
She rolled her eyes in response, making him grin.
“But aside from that, I’m back in Lulu for good this time.” He gripped the steering wheel tighter, unsure of how to put this into words. “I struggled for a long time with this…instinct, I guess you could call it. I’d always had this urge to travel, see the world. Get out of tiny little Lulu.”
He saw her nod in his peripheral vision and he supposed that if anyone could understand that, it would be Claire, who’d actually done it. Not just in moving to a big city but in creating a big life for herself.
“Now, I didn’t have the dreams, the talent, or the intellect that you did,” he said, earning a quiet snort of amusement from his passenger.
Gosh, he loved that sound. He’d heard it before and it was so unrestrained, so inelegant, so… not Claire. He got the feeling that maybe he was the only person to see this side of her. Or that he was one of few, at least.
“You were saying?” she prompted.
He shook his head, forcing himself back on task, despite the fact that his story was far from flattering. But then, there was no future here anyway, wasn’t that what this all came back to? What did it matter if she saw the real Cole. Despite that epic kiss, there was no telling whether she even had an interest in him like that.
Basically, he had nothing to lose. And, when push came to shove, he owed it to her. She deserved the truth about him.
He cleared his throat self-consciously. “I wasn’t like you, I didn’t have any of that going for me. All I knew was that I wanted…something. A change. Something different.”
She murmured her understanding. “I know that feeling, trust me.”
“Right, but you had ballet and your dancing. I had….” He shrugged. “My bike.”
He thought she might interrupt but he had to get this out before he lost his nerve. “I used that bike to take off whenever the urge struck. When things got too overwhelming at home, especially after our parents died, I got on my bike and drove.”
Her silence didn’t feel judgmental but he still judged himself, and his lingering shame made him uncomfortably aware of her gaze, even in the dim lighting of the cab.
“I told myself that my family didn’t need me.” He shrugged. “And in some ways, they didn’t. Alice had school and a close circle of friends. And Dax… well, Dax always understood this ranch and the business better than me, and if anything my being there just made things harder on him. Instead of running the place with all of our full support, he had to put up with my jealous self looking over his shoulder.”
“You were jealous of Dax?” Her voice, so quiet, could have been the voice of his conscience.
He nodded. “In some ways, yeah. He had it all figured out from day one. He always knew what he wanted and where he wanted to be.”
“Ahh.” The noise held no judgement, only understanding.
“Yeah, so I guess I struggled for a while figuring out how I fit in with it all. I wanted to be there for my family, but I couldn’t figure out a way that I could help, and being there was making me miserable.”
“So you left for good,” she said, guessing the next part.
He nodded. Guilt and shame were twisting his gut into knots but in a strange way it felt good to air it out in the open. He knew he needed to have this conversation with Dax and Alice, but talking to someone who didn’t judge and who wasn’t as invested in his family or their ranch…it was a good start.
The dim light of the cab started to feel like a confessional. As if this one woman could make it all right if she could forgive him. It was a silly thought, but he still wanted to tell her. He wanted to be honest with her and now that the words had started pouring out, he was nearly helpless to stop them.
“But the thing was, the yearning feeling—the feeling like something was missing—it didn’t go away, no matter how far I drove.”
He heard her inhale and glanced over to see her turning her head so she could stare out the window into the darkness. He wanted to ask if he’d said something wrong, but she spoke first, her voice not necessarily cooler, but a little distant. Just a tad more formal and reserved. “What does this have to do with what I overheard you saying to your brother?”
This was the Claire he recognized. The one who’d served him and that woman the day he’d first gotten back to town.
He turned back to the road, a stab of disappointment cutting through him at the loss of intimacy between them. It was like she’d popped their cozy little bubble with that comment.
“After some time on the road, I figured it out. It may have taken me too long, but I finally grew up and learned that what I was searching for wouldn’t be found in a new location or at the next town I passed through.”
Her silence was no longer so easy to understand. He didn’t feel that warm understanding acceptance, but he could tell she was listening intently.
“By the time Dax reached out to tell me that I needed to come home to help make some decisions about the ranch, I’d already decided that I was going to come back home.”
“I see.”
No, she clearly didn’t. Maybe she was just trying to shut him up, but after all this he had to make sure she understood that he hadn
’t been rejecting her, he’d been choosing his family.
“I’d left and come back countless times over the years. But there was one difference this time around,” he said. “This time I was coming back for good.”
She was silent, so he found himself spelling it out for her.
“So, you see, when Dax was teasing me about inviting you over for a date, I got defensive. Because I haven’t explained all this to him yet.” He hesitated. “I need to, but I haven’t.”
He heard her shift in the seat beside him, turning to face him just as the lights from town came into view. “So, because you’re committed to staying here and doing right by your family, which is admirable, by the way… you’re not dating anyone?”
He glanced over in surprise.
She flashed him a funny little smile as she added, “Or just me?”
His eyes widened in surprise as he turned back to the road. Was it just him or was she being flirtatious? “Just you. I mean….” He smacked the steering wheel in frustration. “That’s not what I meant. Good grief, I swear you make me nervous because that’s the only explanation I’ve got for why I continually make a hash of things when you’re around.”
He heard her soft laughter. “The feeling’s mutual.”
Again, it was so soft, he thought he might have made it up. But when he caught a glimpse of her smiling and biting her lip as if she’d just said too much, his heart squeezed painfully in his chest.
Sweet mercy, she was adorable when she was embarrassed.
He took a deep breath, determined to get it right this time. “Claire, I like you. A lot.”
He heard her sharp inhale.
“But that’s the problem.”
He didn’t hear her exhale and realized she was waiting for him to continue. “I like you, but I know you’ll be leaving here sooner or later, heading off to that amazing life of yours.” He glanced over to add, “Which you deserve. We all know how hard you worked for that life, and you deserve that.”
He shook his head as he steered the car over to the curb in front of her family’s bar. “But I’m afraid that if I date you, even just once, that I won’t be able to stay here when you leave.” He stared at his hands on the steering wheel, unable to look in her direction in case he saw her repulsion at this outpouring of emotions.
They barely knew each other, for heaven’s sake. It wasn’t like she’d led him on or anything. But there it was, the truth she deserved to hear.
“Why wouldn’t you be able to stay?” she asked. Her voice was so soft, so vulnerable, it nearly broke him.
He glanced over and saw her eyes filled with confusion and questions. They were also filled with a pain that he couldn’t explain.
All he could do, he realized, was be honest, even if that honesty drove her away. “Because I don’t know if I’d be able to stop myself from chasing after you.”
Her breathing hitched again, and he couldn’t tell if it was in surprise or pain or something else entirely.
“It’s going to take me a while to regain Dax and Alice’s trust,” he said slowly, hoping he wasn’t botching this again. He flashed her a small smile. “And James, for that matter.”
She laughed softly, as he’d hoped.
“And to be honest, I’m nervous that I’m not going to be able to do it.” He cleared his throat as emotions threatened to choke him. “Steadfastness and loyalty were always Dax’s strong suit…and my father’s. I didn’t inherit that gene, but I want to be like that. For my siblings, for the ranch, and for my parents…but also for me.”
To his surprise, he felt one of her hands cover his on the steering wheel. “That’s beautiful, Cole. I admire you for wanting to change, for choosing to change.”
A bittersweet agony he’d never known before had him smiling at her hand, wishing he could hold on for dear life but also knowing that he couldn’t. That he’d chosen to be a different person, a better person… a person less selfish than he used to be.
And holding on to someone he knew he couldn’t have would only hurt them both.
She shifted slightly and gently pulled her hand from his.
It was over. She was home, their business was done, and he had to say goodnight.
He reached for his handle so he could get out and open the car door for him but a hand on his jacket sleeve stopped him. “Wait.”
He froze, trying to be patient as she sat there in silence for a moment. In the dark lighting he could see her chewing on her bottom lip as if trying to figure out what to say.
Of course, Claire would think before speaking. She’d never shared his tendency to spout off and live to regret it.
“I’m not so sure I’m leaving Lulu.” The words came out so quickly it was almost one long word.
He stared at her. “Pardon?” His mind was reeling with questions but her expression looked wary so he clamped his mouth shut and waited for what felt like an eternity for her to continue.
She glanced over at him. “When I got injured… Um… I didn’t exactly let on how bad my injury was when I got back home to Lulu.”
He continued to stare as he absorbed that. Just how bad was it? He found his gaze moving over her jean-clad legs as if he could see the injury right then and there.
“I didn’t want people to pity me or ask me questions.” She made a sound that was part disgust, part rueful amusement. “Or any more questions than they were already asking.”
She looked over at him and he widened his eyes in understanding. “The people in this town sure do love to gossip.”
She nodded and he was pleased to see a flicker of a smile, despite the fact that her gaze was so serious and so sad it hurt his heart to see it. Maybe it was for the best that they were in this dark truck with just the street lights to see by, he wasn’t sure he could handle that look without the shadow of darkness.
“How bad is it?” he asked.
She gestured to her right leg vaguely. “Bad enough that I won’t dance again.”
He sucked in air as if he’d been sucker-punched. The casual way she’d said it had struck him more than anything. He knew without a doubt that her tone was forced and that this was difficult for her to talk about, probably another reason she’d kept the full extent to herself.
“Who else knows?”
She tucked some hair behind her ear and he had to grip the steering wheel once more to keep from reaching out to her, stroking her hair or caressing her cheek. Anything to make that sadness disappear and replace that sad, flat-lined frown with a smile.
“My mother.”
That was it. Her mother, and now…him? He knew it was ridiculous but he couldn’t stop the surge of pride that she’d confided in him. Him, of all people. “I’m sorry.”
She shook her head. “Don’t apologize.”
He stayed quiet, unsure of what to say.
He heard her let out a long breath. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to snap. I’m just so sick of hearing people tell me they’re sorry.”
Groaning, he nodded. “I get it. Believe me, I get it. Dax, Alice, and I started making a game out of counting how many people said they were sorry to us after our parents’ death. Not at the funeral, obviously,” he explained, realizing how crass that sounded. “But in the weeks that came after. When we’d go to church, when we’d go get groceries or run errands in town… people were always there saying they were sorry.”
“And it’s nice,” she interjected.
“It is nice,” he agreed.
“But not exactly useful,” she finished.
He nodded. “I get it.” Turning toward her, he added a false levity to his tone. “Claire Geddy, I hereby swear to you that I will not tell you how sorry I am that you injured yourself.”
She giggled. “Thank you. I hereby swear not to tell you how sorry I was to learn about your parents’ passing.”
He tilted his chin down in a nod, a smile tugging at his lips. “Thank you.”
In the silence that followed, he tried to be patient, but p
atience had never been his strong suit. “So, are you staying in Lulu then?”
Maybe she heard the desperation in his voice, because she gave him a sweet, tolerant smile. “I don’t know. I guess I’m still struggling to figure out what I’m supposed to do next.”
He nodded. He could understand that.
“I’m at a crossroads, and while I know people in New York want me to come back and that they’d help me find a new job in that industry, I don’t know if that life is right for me anymore. I don’t know what I’d even do. I don’t know if I can be close to the dream life I’d built for myself, but not live it.” She turned to him. “Does that make sense?”
“Absolutely.” He thought now about the yearning, the confusion he’d felt this past year and couldn’t begin to imagine what she was going through.
He’d never known what he’d wanted until just recently, and she’d always known but had lost it.
They were coming from two such different places in life, but for some inexplicable reason, he felt like he could understand, or at least he could empathize. Just like he felt like she could understand what he was going through, and maybe even give him the forgiveness he needed.
Maybe, just maybe, he could do the same for her. Not give her forgiveness, obviously—that she clearly didn’t need—but give her the same kind of understanding he’d found in her. Something like hope started to flicker inside him. He might not be able to give her the answers she needed and she would likely never be able to give him the long-term commitment he craved, but if there was a chance that he could help her, he wanted to do it.
Reaching out, he took her hand in his and squeezed. “Know that I’m here for you, all right?” The words sounded cheesy, even to him, but they had to be said. “If you need to talk, or just need an escape. I’d like to be your friend, at the very least.” He grinned and hoped that smile hid the sadness he was feeling at the thought of her imminent departure. “For however long you’re in Lulu, that is.”
She turned to him, her eyes impossibly wide with surprise and…something else. Something that resonated in him and found a home. Hope, maybe. A new take on this bizarre situation they found themselves in.
Dancing Queens & Biker Kings: Sweet & Rugged in Montana Page 12
