Slow Burn Cowboy

by Maisey Yates

  She laughed. “Did I go to Harvard, Finn? Am I terribly important, or the wife of somebody who is? I was supposed to get a great education, so I could either move in prestigious circles, or marry someone who did, while I sat at home with my very important degree being smug in its existence. No. I am none of those things. I have none of those things. Dammit. I could have subscription boxes.”

  She wiped the tears from her cheeks, feeling fortified if not completely stable. She wouldn’t crumble in the next few minutes anyway.

  “Are you okay?” he asked.

  “I...yeah.”

  “Do you want to get off the floor now?”

  He moved his hand to her shoulder, let his fingertips drift down to her elbow. And in spite of all the turmoil inside of her, she felt something else too. Something hot and restless and exactly the sort of thing she was trying to banish with her revelation.

  His question felt weighted too. Like there was another level to what he was asking, another layer. As if he was pointing out that she had been on the floor for the past decade, and maybe she should stand up.

  That wasn’t true, though. She hadn’t been on the floor. She had come to Copper Ridge, and she had made a new life for herself. She had separated herself from her past and she had moved forward. And yes, she had kept the details of that to herself, and yes, there was some pain that lingered. But she wasn’t on the floor. Not metaphorically, anyway. Physically was another story.

  “Okay,” she said, and tried not to feel anything momentous when he moved his hand to hers and laced his fingers through her own. Tried not to ascribe any other meaning to the action when he lifted her to her feet, his eyes level with hers.

  He was just helping her up off the floor. That was all.

  “Are you going to be okay?”

  It was a strange question. This was something she had lived with for a long time now. So it wasn’t exactly a new pain to her. But it was new to him.

  “I’m always okay,” she responded, which was about the most disingenuous answer she could have given, all things considered. Clearly, she was something less than okay or she wouldn’t have just had an extended meltdown all over him.

  “I think,” she continued, her words trembling a little bit. “I think I need some time by myself, though.”

  And she felt... Well, she felt pretty crappy saying that to him. She was the one who had chosen to bring it up, and doing so had been a strange experience. Kind of out-of-body. She had been worried it would drive a wedge between them, and in some ways, in the moment, she’d hoped it might. Then it hadn’t. He had just stood there as steady as ever, and then he had offered her his hand.

  So now she was pushing him away, since he didn’t let her bombshell drive him off. Now she felt like she might be a little bit manipulative.

  She didn’t like that thought. But she couldn’t stop her mind from going there.

  “I’ll call you tomorrow,” he said. “If Mark asks... What do you want me to say to him?”

  “Nothing has changed,” she said, parroting the thoughts she had earlier. “I mean, not for me. If I seem off it’s just because I’ve been having to think about all of this a whole lot more lately. Usually, it’s pretty easy to let it stay in the past.” She sucked in a fortifying breath. “It’s a lot harder when you have to look at that guy all the time. But I’m fine. It’s new news to you. It’s not new to me.”

  Even those words tasted disingenuous on her tongue, and she couldn’t quite work out why. Or maybe the truth was she threw a wall in the way of figuring out why the minute she got close.

  She had the sense—all of a sudden—that the inside of her was made entirely of a series of walls and locked doors. Designed to keep certain things, certain moments, certain people in different places so that they never touched.

  She felt both desperately in need of them and desperately constrained by them all at once.

  “You want me to tell him you’re fine,” Finn said. “You want me to lie to him.”

  She lifted a shoulder. “Tell him I’m dealing with a bad breakup. That’s true. Even if it is twelve years in the past.”

  “Fine. If that’s what you want.” He looked at her again, something strange in his eyes. Something she didn’t want to name. “I am going to call you tomorrow.”

  It felt like a promise, one that she kind of wished he wouldn’t keep. She had a feeling he knew that too, which was why he made it with such a grave look in his eye.

  “Great,” she said. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” She plastered what had to be the world’s most brittle smile on her face and took a step back from him. Just in case he was going to touch her again. She really needed him to not touch her again.

  “Okay,” he said, gripping the end of his hat and tipping it forward—a reflex, one he usually reserved for strangers, and definitely not for her.

  That made her want to reach out and grab him by the shoulders. Shake him and ask him why he was being weird. Why he couldn’t just be her friend. Why there had to be tension, and analysis of every movement and reaction.

  And after that, she wanted to shake herself. For being so contradictory. For trying to widen the space between them, and then being angry when she had accomplished it.

  Except, it had seemed for a moment like things weren’t different between them. Like he was her rock again. Her stalwart. Her Finn. Like somehow she had reset things between them with her revelation.

  But then he’d tipped his hat.

  While she was still standing there ruminating, he walked out of her house. On autopilot, she locked the door behind him. Then she turned and went down the hall and fell face-forward onto her bed. She was fully dressed, but she didn’t care.

  She was still wearing her makeup, but she didn’t care about that either.

  Instead of getting up and getting ready for bed, she gave in to that urge that had overtaken her earlier. She drew her knees up to her chest and curled into the tightest ball she could manage.

  Then, she gave herself fully to her misery.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  FINN HAD A feeling that Lane was avoiding his calls. But finally, about midday she had answered a text. And, much to his surprise, she had agreed to have dinner with him at Ace’s. He had considered asking her to go to the brewery with him instead, but that would be a half step fancier than they usually were together, and he had a feeling given the precarious nature of things the change might send her into a tailspin.

  He was sort of surprised she wasn’t in one already. After the way things had gone down at her house yesterday he had expected her to commit a little bit harder to avoiding him.

  But she had promised to meet him after work, and even though very little about being around Lane was a relief right now, that promise was.

  He needed to get away from the ranch. He needed to get away from his brothers. Needed to get away from his sullen niece, who wafted around the house like a specter complaining about her boredom.

  After work, he took a quick shower and changed into a fresh T-shirt and jeans. Then he put on his cowboy hat.

  He walked out of his room, and met Liam partway down the stairs. “Going out?” his brother asked.

  “Yes,” Finn said. “There’s a surplus of leftovers in the fridge. Help yourselves.”

  “Are you going on a date?”

  “Did you want to come upstairs and help me choose my shoes while you asked me these questions?”

  Liam’s lips twitched. “No. But I was wondering if I could catch a ride down with you if you weren’t going on a date. Because I need to get out.”

  “You want to hook up—that’s what you’re saying.”

  Liam lifted a shoulder. “We’ve been here for a couple of weeks.”

  Finn could have laughed at his brother’s blatant objection to wh
at he clearly felt was a horrendous dry spell. Finn himself hadn’t gotten laid in nearly a year. That was what happened when you were hung up on the one woman you couldn’t have.

  Or maybe it was why he was feeling so increasingly hung up on her. Because it had been so long since he’d been with somebody else. Chicken or egg, it didn’t much matter to him. It was what it was.

  “The place I’m going to is crawling with local girls, and it is definitely where people go to hook up. But, local girls. That means they have family here. That means if you do something dumbass, their dads are going to show up at the door with a shotgun. And I don’t particularly want to deal with the fallout of that.”

  “Hey, I get very few complaints,” Liam said.

  “Stay away from virgins and farmers’ daughters,” Finn said. “And stay away from my table. It’s not a date, but I’m meeting my friend Lane.”

  Liam’s gaze was assessing. “Your friend, huh?”

  “Go to hell,” Finn said, continuing down the stairs, not able to inject all that much heat into the invective.

  Alex chose that moment to walk into the house. “You going out?” he asked both Finn and Liam.

  “Yeah,” Liam said. “We’re going to the bar. You want to come?”

  “Did I say this was an open invitation?”

  “I need a drink,” Alex said. “Give me a minute.”

  Alex walked back toward the stairs, and took them two at a time. Finn looked after him incredulously. “Let’s go find Cain,” he said, his tone resigned. “Maybe he wants to go get laid too.”

  As if on cue, Cain appeared from the kitchen. “Well, as tempting as that sounds,” he said, “I have to spend some time with Violet. I can’t leave her alone. Not right now. She’s acting depressed. Or maybe she’s not. Maybe she’s just a teenager, but I can’t tell and it makes me nervous. I might take her out, though. That would be a good idea. Let her see the town. So that maybe she feels a little more enthusiastic about living here.”

  Liam snorted. “You don’t remember the town very accurately, do you? Because if you did, then you would know that showing a teenager around the place isn’t exactly the way to make her excited about it. If your goal is to make her run away, though, by all means give her the grand tour.”

  Cain scowled. “Thanks for that. I hope someone breaks a beer bottle over your head tonight.”

  And that was how Finn ended up with a full truck driving down into town. Because he was in a particularly bad mood, he made Alex sit in the bed, rather than having the three of them squeeze into the cab, on his bench seat. If his brothers touched him in addition to crashing his evening, there was going to be bloodshed.

  “I remember this place,” Liam said when they pulled into the parking lot at Ace’s. “It used to be called something else, though. Also, the last time I was here I wasn’t quite old enough to drink.”

  “Lucky for Copper Ridge,” Finn commented as he got out of the truck and made his way across the parking lot. “One of you better stay sober,” he added. “I’m probably going to get a ride home with my friend.”

  “I’m hoping to get a ride myself,” Liam said.

  “Don’t worry.” Alex clapped his hand on Finn’s shoulder, a wide grin on his face. “If anyone asks if we know him, I’ll deny everything.”

  Finn walked in ahead of his brothers, then scanned the room, looking for Lane. He saw her sitting in the corner and forgot about the two jackasses who had come along with him. He forgot everything except last night. Or, more specifically, the way it had felt when her lips met his.

  And then she’d told him about the baby and he’d broken inside for her. The thought of her going through that alone like she had. The thought of her being so young and making such a hard choice tore at his guts.

  It was no wonder she’d seemed so fragile when she’d come to Copper Ridge all those years ago. No wonder he sensed that same vulnerability inside her now.

  But knowing about the baby didn’t change the fact that he wanted her. He wanted her more than he could ever remember wanting another woman. And until he had her, it wasn’t going to go away. What he’d said to her last night had been the God’s honest truth. Nothing and no one had done anything to dim his desire for Lane Jensen. At this point, he doubted anything could.

  Except maybe having her. That might do it.

  It was about the most pleasurable solution he could think of.

  He took his hat off, placing it on the table, before sliding into his chair. “You came.”

  “I wasn’t about to say no to a free dinner.” The corner of her mouth quirked upward, but there was no shimmer in her dark eyes. She looked tired.

  “Who said I was paying?”

  “Hey,” she said, frowning, “this was your idea. That means you’re paying. I, of course, already took the liberty of ordering for us.”

  “What am I eating?”

  “Fish and chips. Regular French fries.”

  “Don’t tell me you pulled some bullshit like ordering a salad thinking you were going to eat all of my fries.”

  Her lips twitched. “You don’t need all the fries. And I’m in the mood for salad.”

  “You have never in the entire history of our friendship been in the mood for salad. You get it so you have something green to look at on the table. And so it looks like I’m the one who eats fried crap.”

  She seemed to be warming to him a little bit now, and some of the exhaustion had faded from her expression. Still, the conversation felt strange and unstable. Like a truck driving on a muddy dirt road. At any moment it could all skid off course, no matter how well it seemed to be going now.

  “Oh, I’m sorry. You can have my salad. Then everyone will think you’re healthy.”

  “No. I don’t want your salad. I want my French fries. And you don’t get any.”

  She gasped. “I don’t even know you anymore.”

  Her rage was fake, but his resolve not to let her have his French fries was real.

  Because he was done with this. With this thing that she did. Wanting something, pretending she didn’t. Using him for certain things and not for others. The woman needed to ask for what she wanted. And then maybe she would get it.

  When his dinner was placed in front of him, he pulled it back away from Lane. “I told you, no fries for you,” he said, when she extended her hand.

  She frowned. “You were kidding.”

  “I wasn’t. If you want something, ask for it.”

  Her gaze turned stormy. “Are these French fries an object lesson?” she asked, her tone stiff. “Because I didn’t come here for a lesson, Finn. I thought we were going to let the weird stuff go.”

  “Why?” he asked. “Because you want to?”

  “Yes,” she said, reaching down toward her plate, touching the edge of a lettuce leaf and frowning. Then she slowly picked up one piece of lettuce, dunking it in a blob of ranch on another lettuce piece before sticking it in her mouth. “That is exactly why.”

  “I know it pains you to hear this, but you aren’t in charge, Lane.”

  “Of what?” she asked, looking at him angrily. “The world? Because I am pretty aware of that.”

  “Of our friendship. You don’t get to be the one that sets the rules and makes sure they never change.”

  And just like that, the metaphorical truck skidded off the road.

  She looked miserable, and for a moment he felt like a villain. It made him want to let it all go. To drop it, and to put things back where they had always been.

  Except, it wasn’t what he needed. It also wasn’t what she needed. Last night had definitely demonstrated that she’d been holding things in for too long. She couldn’t hold all this in too.

  They lapsed into silence, and Lane continued to crunch angrily on her lettuce. He ate his F
rench fries without remorse.

  He looked up and past her and saw Alex sitting at a table surrounded by women. They were leaning in, and he was gesturing broadly, clearly telling a story. Probably one about his deployment that made him sound like a very brave hero. Not that his brother wasn’t a very brave hero. Finn had nothing but respect for his brother’s choice to serve in the military. That didn’t mean Alex wasn’t milking that service for all it was worth when it came to impressing women.

  Liam was sitting between a couple of Alex’s admirers. They couldn’t all hook up with Alex, so he had a feeling Liam was going to sit there and brood until one of them decided that the quieter, more intense energy he put off was something she wanted to explore.

  Watching them together made Finn feel old. He didn’t want to do that. Didn’t want to go to a bar and pretend to be interested in what a woman had to say just so he could get into her pants. That had lost its appeal when he was in his twenties. Hell, it had never had all that much appeal to him, but sex had, so he’d done what he needed to do.

  It was a damned inconvenient thing. To be a man who didn’t care for shallow hookups, but didn’t want a long-term relationship.

  Suddenly, he saw Liam’s expression change. Turn sharp. Turn hard. He followed his brother’s gaze to the door of the bar, where he saw Sabrina Leighton. He didn’t know Sabrina all that well.

  Her sister-in-law, Lindy, owned Grassroots Winery just outside of town, but Finn had always been more of a beer drinker, which kept them pretty far outside his circle.

  Still, there was no denying that Sabrina’s presence affected Liam.

  But it was Sabrina’s reaction that really stood out. Because when her eyes locked with Liam’s she froze, and then she turned right back around and walked out the door.

  Finn half expected his brother to follow her, but he didn’t. Instead, he picked up his beer and took a long drink before turning resolutely back to the woman sitting on his left.

  And that, Finn supposed, was the aftermath of what happened in small towns when things went wrong.