Dancing Queens & Biker Kings: Sweet & Rugged in Montana

Home > Other > Dancing Queens & Biker Kings: Sweet & Rugged in Montana > Page 18
Dancing Queens & Biker Kings: Sweet & Rugged in Montana Page 18

by Dallen, Maggie


  And holy smokes, he’d never known being selfless could be so painful. It was a physical pain that held him in its grip as they pulled in to Marty’s shop.

  He turned to face her and saw her face drawn tight in pain. Her eyes were filled with a world of hurt and he forced a smile that he was sure was stilted and unnatural, but it was the best he could do. “I am happy for you, Claire,” he said.

  And it wasn’t a lie.

  He might hurt for himself. His heart was nearly breaking at the thought of her leaving his life, but deep down he was glad for her. A bigger part of him that cared more about her than it did his own self interests… that part of him was glad that she’d gotten the offer.

  She deserved the best. She deserved to have the life she’d worked so hard for. His Claire deserved everything the world had to offer. He’d always known that and he would have been angry and bitter if she’d been forced to stay here against her wishes, just because it was the only option left to her.

  Sure, his own life would have been bliss, but hers would have been tainted with regrets and what ifs. That wasn’t what he wanted for her. He knew that.

  But all that knowing didn’t stop his heart from clenching painfully as if it might just fall to pieces in his chest.

  They sat in morose silence for so long that it was Marty who dragged them out of it by knocking on his window. Cole cast Claire a small smile that held zero joy. It was a smile of resignation.

  He was giving up. Backing away. His spirit withered within him as he did the right thing. He’d wished her well. Now all he had to do was get through the rest of this night without fighting for the woman he loved or letting her see just how much her decision had crushed him.

  Right. No problem.

  He slammed his door shut and went around to Claire’s side to help her out. He could feel his emotions shutting down in a way they hadn’t done since his parents’ death. That urge to escape was there stronger than ever but he ignored it, shoved it aside. He blocked it out.

  That wasn’t an option any more. And besides…

  His new reality settled over him with a bleak, morbid sense of humor. There was nowhere to run to evade this heartbreak.

  She was the one who was leaving.

  For the first time in his life, he was the one being left behind.

  He glanced up at the gathering clouds as he followed Claire and Marty into the shop to finalize the paperwork and answer Claire’s questions about the work that he’d done.

  The one who’d spent his whole life running had finally found his home. And the woman he’d given his heart to was about to up and flee…

  Someone up there sure had a funny sense of humor.

  Chapter Eighteen

  She felt him pull away just as surely as if he’d stuck a wall between them.

  Not that she could blame him. She’d done this to herself.

  But it was right. It was for the best. She told herself that over and over as she watched Marty and Cole hover around her car like it was a patient on a hospital stretcher. Even though her heart ached at the new distance between them, she couldn’t help but marvel at seeing him in his element.

  This distance helped her to watch him as if from afar. That’s how it felt, too. As if she was already miles away, even though he was standing less than six feet from her on the opposite side of her beat up old jalopy.

  His brows were furrowed as he concentrated on whatever it was Marty was pointing out, some last minute alteration he’d added—free of charge—he told her, as if she’d shown some concern about the cost. She hadn’t. Because she wasn’t concerned.

  Because she had a job again, if only for a little while. But she knew herself and she knew the dance community. This job would lead to others, if she wanted it to.

  And she did.

  She thought.

  She hoped.

  Oh heck, she didn’t know. But she needed to find out.

  Didn’t she?

  Yes. She gave herself a mental eye roll and a physical shake of the head. She’d been through this a million times already. She owed it to herself to give her old life another shot. She’d worked her butt off to make it in that world, she definitely deserved to be there. And a lifetime of dedication and hard work insisted that she see this through.

  She couldn’t let herself be distracted by a man. Any man. Not even a great man like Cole.

  And he was great. She watched him now, her heart already aching as if he’d already said goodbye. And in a way, maybe he had.

  There was now a distance between them where before there had been the most intense intimacy, the most indescribable closeness she’d ever experienced. It was a kind of unique bond she hadn’t known existed until she’d felt it for herself.

  It was love.

  She shook her head again, annoyed by the melodramatic little voice that insisted on labeling what they had as if she needed a pin to say they were going steady or something. This wasn’t high school and she didn’t believe in the kind of fairy tale love that made it possible for a handful of interactions to lead to the big L-word.

  No, sir. No, ma’am. She didn’t believe it that kind of nonsense. Mutual trust and understanding, sure. A shared history and a certain compatibility, absolutely. There was no denying any of that.

  But love?

  She took a deep breath and stared at her car’s interior as if it held all the secrets of the universe. What she saw was a bunch of dirty parts and engine grease.

  No, this wasn’t love. It couldn’t be. It was a hiatus from reality, a seemingly intense friendship that would fade over time, once she was back in her real world, surrounded by the life she’d chosen for herself.

  As if by an unspoken accord, she and Cole refrained from speaking about her imminent departure over dinner with family. Not that it would have come up. She’d started telling them about her mentor’s good news—the news about the potential VIP guests at the ranch—and that took over the conversation for the remainder of the meal.

  Well, for Alice it did. And that seemed to be enough. She and Cole both seemed to be content to let her run with the conversation, Claire answering questions or inputting info on the new potential guests as needed, but otherwise able to focus on the burgers that Dax and James had grilled, despite the frigid weather.

  Dax and James, for their part, seemed content to sit back and listen. She got the feeling that was their typical role at this table. Neither was a big talker, and both exuded the strong, silent type vibe in a way that was reassuring and sweet, especially right now when questions were the last thing she wanted and reassurance was greatly needed.

  Because every time she glanced in Cole’s direction she was inundated with doubts. Drowning in them, to be honest.

  And she hated it.

  Despised it.

  This self-doubt was new, an unknown. It was everything she’d never wanted from a man, or a relationship, or from anyone. She’d never doubted her course before. Her fate had always been in her hands and hers alone. She’d worked for it, she’d never been swayed.

  Until it had all fallen apart. And then Cole had come along and suddenly given her a glimpse of a life she might’ve had if she’d stuck around, if she’d abandoned her dreams.

  She stared down at her plate and used her fork to toy with the baked beans they’d offered as a side, as if baked beans were a vegetable.

  She swallowed thickly, annoyed with herself for being so emotional over it all, and angry at Cole, even though she knew logically that none of this was his fault.

  It was hers. She should have known better. She had known better. He was the kind of temptation she’d run from. He was everything she’d always said she didn’t want. He represented the life her mother had chosen. The bad boy with the sweet smile. The biker king with his effortless charm and legions of fans.

  She’d always known better.

  Even as she thought it, a part of her rebelled. That wasn’t him. He was different. He had charm and charisma, sure, but
he wasn’t the kind of fickle, feckless man her mother had been drawn to.

  Or, if he was, her instincts were just dead wrong. But she didn’t think so.

  Oh, she was so confused. And she hated that above all else. She’d never been confused before, not really. Even when she’d come back to Lulu, aimless and uncertain of her path, she hadn’t felt this kind of confusion. Because even then she’d known what it was she’d wanted, it had just been out of her reach. She’d known she would have to regroup and come up with a new plan, but that wasn’t the same thing.

  That wasn’t confusion, and it certainly wasn’t this.

  Her fork clattered against her plate and for a moment even Alice ceased talking. Claire could feel all eyes on her and her breath halted, her body froze. She should smile, make a joke, make light of her clumsiness, as if anyone had ever accused her of being clumsy.

  But she couldn’t do it. She felt frozen in place. The only thing she was aware of was Cole’s eyes on her. She didn’t have to look up to know that he was staring, searching. He was seeing her.

  Her throat started to close up as unexpected tears stung her eyes.

  Not now, she pleaded to whoever was listening. Not now. Let the tears wait. She had plenty of time for that—she had a long flight and countless nights sleeping alone in a rented apartment that would never be home.

  The tears could come then. Heck, she might even welcome them then, they’d be a relief, a purging of the pain. But now? When Cole and his kind, trusting family was watching her with concern?

  No. She couldn’t do it.

  Alice, bless her heart, reached across the table and grasped her hand awkwardly over a basket full of rolls. “Claire? Sweetie? You all right?”

  She nodded. “Fine.” She cleared her throat and tried again. “I’m fine.” Blinking away the tears she looked up with a smile so forced it hurt her cheeks. “What were you saying?”

  Alice’s clear blue eyes studied her and Claire knew without a doubt that she wasn’t fooled by that forced smile. But her new friend—because that’s what she was, Claire realized, a friend—her new friend gave her a look of understanding and her hand a quick squeeze. “I was just about to tell you about my new idea for a dance recital in the barn.”

  Claire relaxed slightly as Alice led the conversation once again and everyone except for her and Cole took part. Maybe it was obvious to Dax, James, and Alice that they were not in the mood for lighthearted banter or for planning a dance recital for a bunch of adorable, passionate, loveably silly little girls.

  Claire knew she wasn’t, and one look at Cole’s hard expression, so different from his usual laid-back charm, told her he clearly he wasn’t up for it either.

  But she did her best. Nodding when Claire looked her way and offering little murmurs of encouragement. Because it was a wonderful idea. June and the other girls would be beyond thrilled at the news. And they’d be ready, Claire would ensure it. She wouldn’t leave them stranded without a teacher. Maybe her old instructor from Bozeman could be persuaded to come out once a week. Or maybe her old instructor had an advanced student who’d make the trip for a small fee.

  She’d find a way to make it work, just like she’d make sure her mother’s business affairs were in order and all of the shifts covered at the bar. She might be leaving but she wouldn’t abandon the people she loved in Lulu.

  She risked a quick glance in Cole’s direction and saw his thin-lipped frown as he stared down at the table, apparently lost in thought.

  She wouldn’t be abandoning those she loved… all except for one.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Life in Lulu without Claire was miserable. Though, to be fair, life anywhere without Claire would have been miserable.

  Cole finished setting up the chairs for the “end of the year” recital Alice had planned for the girls, though they’d only been taking dance lessons for a month. But, as Alice pointed out, it was the end of the year for the world at large, if not for the dance classes. He supposed it was semantics, but either way, it didn’t matter.

  The girls were beside themselves with excitement as they wrapped up their final class before the following night’s recital. Ellen and several other mothers were keeping watch over the group of energetic youngsters, but he was certain their squeals of excitement could be heard two towns over.

  And who could blame them? The next night their families and friends would be here to watch them show off all that they’d learned. On top of that, the barn had been transformed into a nice-looking theater, if he did say so himself.

  The only thing missing was Claire. Not only was she their teacher, she was the ranch’s saving grace. Her contacts had come through and wanted to book the new guest houses for a corporate retreat.

  Their deposit money alone allowed him and his siblings to breathe a little easier, and Alice had high hopes that once word spread amongst Claire’s contacts, this would only be the beginning.

  He watched with a smile as the last of the kids filed off the stage after the stand-in teacher Claire had lined up finished their final tech rehearsal. From his understanding “tech rehearsal” meant doing a performance where the light and sound people could work out the logistics, but seeing as the light guy was Dax in the corner with a switch for the spotlight, and the sound was Alice in the back of the room with her iPhone, which was hooked up to some speakers… tech rehearsal was just a fancy way of saying this was the girls’ last chance to fool around before they were thrust in front of an audience filled with family and friends.

  But no Claire.

  Cole headed to the exit, he needed some cold air to clear his head if he was going to make it through this evening without losing his cool. It had been a week since she’d left. One lousy week. He hadn’t dropped her at the airport. He’d offered but she’d refused. Not meanly, in fact, he was pretty sure she’d been trying to do right by him. Or maybe she’d just known how painful it would be… for him, if not for her.

  He shook his head as he swung open the back barn door and stepped out onto the hard-packed snow that covered the walkway behind the outbuilding. He wasn’t being fair. Her leaving had been hard on her too. They might not have said the words out loud, but he knew without a doubt that he wasn’t the only one who’d been developing real feelings… strong feelings.

  He knew leaving was just as hard on her as it had been on him. But somehow knowing that didn’t seem to help much. There was still a bitterness inside him at being left behind. Which was ridiculous, he reminded himself as he stared up at the night sky, as if some answers might be found there in the stars.

  No answers, just memories. The way she’d felt in his arms as they’d both gazed up at those same stars. The way the silence had echoed that night when he’d first led her out to this barn and showed her what he’d had in mind. The sizzling tension between them that had gone beyond words. The silent communication he’d felt whenever she’d been near, as if she understood him even when he didn’t know himself.

  He blew out a long exhale and watched the steam from his breath dissipate as the door opened behind him.

  The silence and then the crunching sound of boots on snow gave his brother away without so much as a word spoken.

  “Were you sent out to check on me?” he asked, begrudging amusement clear in his voice.

  Dax stopped beside him but he didn’t glance over and he could tell from his peripheral vision that his brother was staring up at the night sky just like he was. “Yup,” he said without apology. “Alice sent me.”

  He gave a grunt that was part amusement, part irritation. It was good to be home again, for better or for worse. But this past week he’d been living under a microscope. He knew they all meant well but when all was said and done, their concern was driving him nuts.

  “I’m fine,” he said for what had to have been the millionth time that week.

  “I know.” Dax sounded confident, but Cole didn’t believe him. Why? Because he’d been lying, and if anyone would know that, it w
as Dax. Which meant that Dax was just trying to make him feel better, going along with the lie to appease him.

  Aw heck, sometimes it was a pain to be surrounded by family who knew him so well. He cast Dax a long suffering look. “Spare me the pity, little brother.”

  Dax had the good grace to grin, but his eyes were filled with empathy and Cole had to turn away or he was afraid he might lose it. Taking a deep breath, he crossed his arms and looked off into the distance, which was pitch black.

  Kind of like his future.

  Oh, give me a break. Now even his internal monologue had turned pitiful. He needed to snap out of it, move on with his life just like Claire had done. But that was easier said than done.

  Dax seemed to be reading his mind. “It’s hard being the one left behind, isn’t it?”

  Cole turned to face his brother, studying his staid features and unflappable demeanor. “Is that a dig?”

  Dax’s lips twitched up in amusement. “Believe it or not, it wasn’t meant to be. Just speaking from experience.”

  Cole gave a grunt that had to pass for laughter at his younger brother’s attempt at humor. Dax might have always had his act together when it came to working at the ranch, but there was no denying that he’d had more than his fair share of failures when it came to women.

  But he was guessing Dax didn’t want to relive his past mistakes any more than Cole wanted to dwell on the topic of Claire. So, he took the opportunity to do what he should have done the first day he’d come back. “I wouldn’t have blamed you if it had been a dig,” he said, meeting his brother’s eyes. “I deserve for you all to be angry with me for the way I’ve run off over the years.” He cleared his throat. “Especially after leaving you and Alice the way I did last winter. That wasn’t right, and I’m sorry.”

  The words hung out there in the open for so long, Cole wasn’t sure his brother was ever going to respond. And he supposed he didn’t need him to. It was enough that he’d gotten the words off his chest. He felt lighter for having shed that weight he’d been carrying around. He just hoped his brother could forgive him.

 

‹ Prev