by Lex Martin
Logan scoops up Cody, and I help him get the kids situated in his truck before I follow them back to the ranch.
The familiar sounds of baseball make me smile when we walk through the front door, but my sprig of optimism is quickly dashed.
Ethan is sound asleep on the couch. In front of him is an open bottle of wine and two glasses.
Ethan drinks beer.
I look at Logan, but he just shrugs and helps me carry the kids to bed. He does me a favor and doesn’t try to bullshit me and try to make me feel better, and I don’t bother to pretend I’m in a good mood.
When the kids are asleep, I go to my room and close my door, hoping to have some perspective in the morning. Because right now, I don’t have a good perspective. Not at all.
Ethan
A hard kick to my leg jars me awake.
“What the fuck?” I snarl at my brother, who’s hovering over me with an eat-shit-and-die expression.
My heart races from the shock to my system, and I realize I’ve been dozing in the living room. The game is over, and it’s dark outside. Shit.
“How long have I been out?” My throat feels like a dusty Texas road after a heat wave. Rubbing the sleep out of my eyes, I try to shake myself out of this lethargy.
“Long enough.”
“Where are the kids?”
“In bed asleep.”
Like the slow flicker of a movie reel through a camera, I remember what happened earlier. The scene on the porch. The look on Mila’s face as she watched me argue with her mother. Tori’s imploring expression when I sent her away. All the arguing. “Fuck.”
“Fuck is right, asshole. What happened here?” He points to the half-empty wine glasses.
The mess in front of me looks like something I need to clean up, but that can’t be what has his panties in a twist.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” His glare, the kind reserved for men who beat their wives and other scum of the earth, prickles my skin. “I tried to talk Allison off the ledge.”
“With wine?” He paces in front of me. “And candles?”
What the fuck is he talking about? “Christ, it’s not what you think. I asked her what she wanted to drink, and she helped herself to shit in the kitchen. It’s her wine. She bought it and left it here. What’s weird about it? And those candles were there before.” Weren’t they? It’s not like we lit them.
“Wow, and everyone thinks you’re the smart one,” he mutters. Crossing his arms, he leans back against the fireplace.
“What are we even talking about right now? You’re mad because I let Allison drink her own wine?”
“No, asshole. I’m not. I could care less if Allison drank every fucking bottle in the house, but did you bother to consider how this”—he swirls a finger at the stemware on the coffee table—“might appear to your current girlfriend? The one who looked like someone’d kicked her puppy when I found her comforting your children at the diner?”
My gut reaction is to scoff. Surely Tori knows my heart by now. That I would never hurt her or cheat on her. Much less with my ex. That’s a one-way trip to the loony bin. I’ve never cheated on anyone and don’t plan to tarnish that track record. Only lowlifes cheat on their women.
But judging by the seriousness in Logan’s tone—and, let’s face it, my brother is rarely serious except when he’s about to level me with something I genuinely need to know—I shouldn’t dismiss his concerns.
“Are Mila and Cody okay?” I rasp, finding it hard to say the words with the giant knot in my throat. I want to ask about Tori too, but one thing at a time.
“I think so. Mila looked a little worse for wear, but she knocked out as soon as we got home. Cody fell asleep in Tori’s arms at the restaurant.” The flare of his nostrils tells me what he’s gonna say before he says it. “You shoulda been the one to go to the diner.”
Nodding, I close my eyes. I know. For my kids. For Tori.
“Did Tori say something?” A whole host of things come to mind, most of which I probably deserve for not taking her feelings into consideration before shoving my keys in her face and making her take the kids.
“Nope. Not a word. Just…silence.”
Damn. That’s not good. Tori’s not one to hide her feelings.
Logan lifts his brow. “I wasn’t the one she wanted to see tonight. Shoulda been you.”
The more he says that, the more frustrated I grow.
He sits next to me, the weight of everything suddenly suffocating. Doesn’t he know I’m doing my best? The divorce, the bills, children who need love and attention constantly, Allison’s demands, the horses in my stable, my employees. It feels like I’m juggling fifty balls at once and about to drop the one thing that makes them all collapse to the ground.
I don’t know what to say except to start at the beginning where all this started.
Resting my elbows on my knees, I run my hands through my hair, feeling more exhausted than before I fell asleep. “Allison was dropping off the kids. She brought up Cody’s birthday and how she wanted to bring her parents and some friends to the party.”
“How did she know about it?” He rubs his chin.
“My guess is Mila spilled the beans.”
He laughs. “That kid.”
We’ve done this before. Back when Dad died. I sat in this here spot and poured my heart out to my brother, who was only a teenager at the time. Told him my girlfriend was pregnant, and I didn’t know which way was up or down. Wasn’t sure what I should do.
The house was a lot smaller then. Logan’s the one who suggested adding on the extra rooms, so Mom could stay here and help with the baby when she arrived, which would’ve been great except Allison never did get along with my mother.
He sinks back into the couch and kicks one ankle over the other. “So Allison decided to invite herself? Did she even give a shit about the kids’ birthdays last year?”
I shake my head, but he already knows that answer. “We were disagreeing, but it wasn’t contentious. Well, until…” I don’t want to say it.
“Until Tori showed up?” he adds helpfully. “And now Allison wants to come to the shindig Tori’s planning for our family? Fuck.”
“What do I do? I can’t tell Tori she can’t come to the party. I want her there. She’s important to me. But I can’t exactly tell Allison she’s not invited. Not when we’re in the middle of negotiating that contract.”
His head dips back to the back of the couch with a groan. “You sure know how to get yourself in a mess. See, this is why bachelor life is great. Wanna bang a hot new chick? No prob. Wanna fuck two cocktail waitresses at the same time? Someone hand me the lube. But this?” He shivers dramatically. “This I can’t handle. I know I said I was on board with the co-op and having silent investors, but the operative word there is silent.”
“Look at you with the big words.”
He socks me in the shoulder. “I’m just saying, are you sure you want to be tied to Allison for another four or five years? Because if we do this deal, you’re on the hook. We both are.”
Frustration, hot and fierce, fires up in my gut. “What am I supposed to do? Refinance the ranch again? Leave Mom nothing for retirement? She doesn’t even have Dad’s life insurance because those bastards never paid out.” The damn life insurance company argued that he had a preexisting health condition he failed to disclose and denied Mom’s claim.
Blowing out a breath, I break it down for Logan. “You heard our attorney as plainly as I did. People in our situation can either refinance to pay off the other spouse or sell assets.” I spread my arms. “Which assets you wanna sell? Your house? Some farmland, which ain’t worth shit except for our houses and barns? The horses, which is where we get our income from? Please spell it out for me.”
The pained groan that rumbles out of him tells me he’s as worked up as I am, and for a minute, we sit there, silent, muddling through our thoughts, with the recap of the Astros game on in the background.
Shifting on the couch, I
try to explain it better. “All I did tonight was talk some sense into Allison. Sat her down, let her relax with a glass of wine, so she’d stop yappin’, and made sure she understood that our disagreements over shit had better start and stop with the kids. That if we sign the co-op contract, she’s a silent partner when it comes to the business.” With a palm over my mouth, I mumble the rest. “I might’ve offered a bigger percentage for her to promise she wouldn’t contest custody of the kids.”
I cringe, knowing my brother might be pissed, but when we make eye contact, all I see is acceptance.
“Mila and Cody are yours, and I’ll go down fighting to make sure it stays that way. Hate that she’s getting more outta this deal, but I can’t say I blame you for trying. If those kids were mine, I’d do the same thing.”
I’m so relieved, I could cry. Instead, I squeeze his arm. “Thanks for having my back, brother.”
He ruffles my hair like I’m a kid. “Always. Now go explain this shit to Tori. Make sure she gets where you’re coming from and doesn’t think you were wining and dining your ex-wife.”
My attention returns to glasses in front of me. To the red lipstick on the stemware. To the half-empty bottle of Pinot.
Goddamn it.
I have to believe she knows me better than that.
The hard thud of my heart in my chest is all I hear as I tap on Tori’s bedroom door, but there’s no answer. With a twist of the handle, it opens, and I’m relieved, so fucking relieved, she didn’t lock me out.
“Tor?” Her petite outline curled up on the bed sends a bittersweet ache through me.
What would she and I be like without all the drama? If we were just two singles in Austin bumping into each other on a Friday evening over drinks in a bar? I’d ask her out in a second. I’d spare no expense to make her feel special.
Instead, tonight, I asked her to whisk away the kids while I dealt with my ex-wife.
How long will Tori deal with that kind of baggage? In my head, I consider all the reasons this would’ve been easier if we hadn’t gotten involved. If we’d kept things professional. Because the boss in me feels like I’m taking advantage of her by asking her to do me personal favors, like watch my kids on a Sunday night.
But the boyfriend in me? Yeah, he’s grateful as hell to be able to trust her with my children. To know when they’re in her care, I don’t have to worry like I would with a stranger. Save for my brother and Mom, there’s no one who adores Mila and Cody more.
Does she have any idea how much she means to me? How grateful I’ve been for our friendship and all the nights she’s let me wrap myself around her in bed?
I toss my t-shirt and jeans on the ground next to the bed and crawl in behind her.
Her breathing is slow and deep, and though I’m relieved we don’t have to talk about all the shit that went down tonight because I’m beat, I hate letting unresolved issues linger. I did that with Allison, allowed too many unspoken things go, and I don’t want to make that mistake again.
“Baby,” I whisper as I hug her to me.
She’s not a terribly deep sleeper, but tonight she’s out. I almost forgot she had her sister’s shower today. Tori must be worn out.
And when she got home, you made her babysit. Nice job, asshole.
Wishing I could wake her and apologize, tell her how sorry I am to put her in that position, I settle for whispering it to her and hoping we get time tomorrow to have this conversation face to face.
If tonight has clarified anything for me, it’s that I can’t do this—life, the ranch, the business—without her help.
But more than that, I don’t want to do it without her.
Tori
The ingredients seem to weigh a million pounds as I mix in the mayo for a new potato salad recipe I’m testing for Cody’s birthday party next week. My mind snags on Logan and Ethan’s argument last night, their voices animated enough to swell through my closed bedroom door as I was dozing off, drained from my sister’s shower and the Allison drama.
Was it arguing?
All I remember is Ethan saying, “It’s not what you think.”
Those words send chills down my arms.
Because cheaters say those kind of things, my heart warns.
No. No, tontita.
Ethan is not Jamie. It’s a mantra I’ve reminded myself of all summer. Just because Ethan and Allison talked over a glass of wine does not mean anything happened. Rationally, I understand this. Rationally, I don’t have a problem with the two of them needing to calm down to discuss the plan for Cody’s birthday.
But Loony Tunes Tori? The one who fails out of school when she’s too depressed to get out of bed and attend class when her boyfriend cheated on her with his wife? Yeah, she needs help stepping away from the ledge. Because she’s screaming I’m being naive.
My stomach knots at the thought that I might come out the loser again.
Maybe I should take a step back. Maybe Ethan isn’t ready for more. Maybe the kids need time to adjust to everything that happened this summer.
Basically everything Ethan told me after Allison found us that Sunday morning in the back of his truck comes rushing back to me like a dark tide after a storm.
I cannot believe I fell asleep before I could talk to him last night.
With a wipe of my elbow across my clammy forehead, I sigh and taste the mixture before reaching for the mustard.
Sometimes I wonder if I should’ve confronted Jamie about what he did last year instead of shutting him out. Sure, I slashed his tires like a fucking psycho, and that felt amazing in the moment, but it didn’t do anything to help me deal with the emotional turmoil he’d unleashed on my life. Never mind that it was stupid as hell. What if he’d called the cops? It’s not like I can afford to get in trouble again.
Between my sister not wanting me to plan her baby shower and Ethan’s cozy chat with Allison, that kernel of worry snowballs, making me question if this is the right place for me.
Maybe I should be trying to carve out my own life in Austin after all. Ethan and I could take things slow and see each other when Allison has the kids. I’ve never done slow in my life, as my driving record indicates, but if that’s what this family needs to move forward, I’m willing to take a step back.
My hands drop to my sides, mashed potatoes sliding off the wooden spoon and landing on the floor with a wet plop.
It would break my heart to leave the ranch. Already, I feel the cracks forming at the thought, like fissures of ice on the sidewalk when it freezes, making it hard to breathe. I’ve been so intimate with Ethan, opened up to him in ways I’ve never opened up to any man before, but can I really afford to go any further if I’m some kind of rebound from Allison?
I look up at the ceiling and blink away the heat building in my eyes.
Please, Ethan. Please don’t jerk me around.
When I woke up this morning, I could’ve sworn I was going to roll over and find Ethan, but the sun was up, which meant he was already in the barn, and I couldn’t figure out if I’d only dreamt him wrapping his arms around me last night or if we’d really slept in the same bed.
The kids’ voices bring me back to the present where they’re sitting at the kitchen table with a million crayons, coloring Paw Patrol images I printed off the internet. Back to apple slices and story time and dress-up—simple things that bring so much joy to my life.
No more crazy, I decide, mentally boxing up all of this emotional crap until I can deal with it later. Because I have a job to do. I can’t very well take care of these children if I’m an emotional wreck, and they deserve my best. But more than any job or expectation, I love Mila and Cody, and I always want to be in the moment with them instead of staring off into space like a lunatic.
I clear my throat and try to sniffle quietly.
Their jubilant laughter makes me break out into a watery smile. They’re such a bright spot, always cheerful and loving and sweet. Truly, no one deserves happiness more than my tiny tikes.
<
br /> I turn around and… Oh, holy shit.
Sputtering, I’m caught with my mouth hanging open at the sight before me—Cody’s head coated in butter, his mischievous eyes peeking up at me through the pale yellow slime.
The condiment tub, gaping and empty, sits on the floor. Next to it, Cody-sized hand prints decorate the hardwood floor like an art exhibit gone wrong.
What just happened?
He giggles. “Rawr! Scawwwwwwyyyyy!” Waving his hands, he grins up at me.
Mila shields her smile with her hand like she’s embarrassed. “He’s a ghost. For Halloween.”
Internally, I’m yelling at myself for not paying better attention.
Because like everything else, this is my fault too.
Ethan
With a haughty flick of her wrist, Mallory Mathers shoves a lock of red hair over her shoulder. All the better to glare at me.
I glare back. “You need to lean back more. If you’re sitting up that high in the saddle, your ass is gonna go flying off that new filly of yours faster than you can blink.”
“Maybe we should call it a day.”
“It’s your dollar. You wanna quit twenty minutes early, be my guest.” I’m in a foul mood, and Mallory’s piss-poor attitude is gnawing on my last nerve. All I want to do is head into the house, hug my kids and kiss my girlfriend. Make sure they’re okay after last night. But no. I’m sweating my balls off while I deal with this spoiled princess.
Mallory’s eyes narrow like she’s mentally murdering me, and I force a smile. No sense in actually being murdered. “Cool off your horse. You know the routine. And put your saddle in the right place this time.”
Last week, she left it in the stall instead of in the tack room. Almost had a hemorrhage when I saw the damn thing. She’s off her rocker if she thinks I’m gonna clean up after her again.
It’s barely ten a.m., but the heat is unforgiving. Sweat barrels down me like I just hopped out of the shower. As soon as my client is gone, I can take a break. I’m gonna have to or I might pass out.
