Ivy’s eyes snapped toward the window, where the two of us kept a close watch on Beau and the kids as if it entertained us both for entirely different reasons.
“Beau didn’t need to go buying me a car,” she huffed. “Thinks he needs to go taking care of everyone all the time, like he’s trying to make up for ten years of disappearing.”
“Disappearing?”
“Yeah,” Ivy shrugged. “Once he hit the road, he never came back but once or twice a year. He was a completely different person once fame hit him. It’s nice having him back.”
Maybe he didn’t come home that Thanksgiving when I’d called and spoke to his mother? Maybe he really never got the message?
“You know why he’s doing this, don’t you?” she said, her voice thick like honeycomb but not nearly as sweet.
“Beg your pardon?” I lifted my gaze in her direction.
“He lured you out here like some fish on a line because he’s still in love with you. He thinks there’s a chance.” Ivy shook her head. “I told him you moved on a long time ago. I mean, look at you. There’s not a shred of the old you left. You don’t even go by Dakota anymore. He’s fighting a lost cause, but he’s too stubborn to see that.”
I wasn’t sure what to say, so I just stood there, marinating in the awkward silence and trying to determine whether she was just being honest with me or taking an extremely un-Ivy-like dig at me.
She glanced down at her watch and sighed. “I better get to work. We still going out tonight?”
I nodded.
“Good. I think we could all use a drink and a good time.” She flashed a quick smile like everything was suddenly cool before floating out the door on a breeze and kissing the foreheads of her little ones. A second later she was climbing back into her ride and rumbling down the gravel drive.
“Dakota,” Beau called for me from outside. I slipped my shoes on and ran out to the front porch. “Get in the truck. We’re going fishing.”
“Give me a sec.”
Ten minutes later I re-emerged, freshened up and dressed for a morning spent down by the old fishing hole we used to frequent. Miles and Gracie squeezed in between us in the truck, with Gracie unable to stop staring at me. Beau grabbed Miles’ hand and placed it over the gear shifter, letting him think he was shifting the truck as we putted and bounced down an old dirt road behind the house.
“Uncle Beau,” Gracie called out when she grew tired of staring my way.
“Yes, Gracie Lou,” he twanged.
“What did the big bucket say to the little bucket?” she asked, stifling a premature giggle.
“I don’t know. What did he say?”
“You look a little pail,” Gracie stuck her tongue out and scrunched her face as she laughed. A mess of blonde curls framed her freckled face, making her the spitting image of her mama. Miles was a little bigger, making him appear to be the older one. He was more serious with dark eyes and dark hair. I could only imagine how hard it was for Ivy to look into the eyes of her beautiful boy and see the face of her late husband looking back at her. “Get it, Uncle Beau?”
“That’s a good one, Gracie Lou. Give me a second, and I’ll think of one for you,” he said with a chuckle before pulling down a grassy stretch of dirty road. Up ahead was the old fishing hole with the ancient oak that held an old tire swing from its mighty branches. We used to swing off that tire and catapult ourselves into the water, though we stopped the day Beau came out covered in leeches all over his legs.
Beau jerked the shifter into park just shy of the old tree and climbed out, reaching in as Miles and Gracie slid across the seat toward his waiting arms. He plunked them on the ground and grabbed some poles out of the back of his truck.
Early morning fog rose up over the water like an ashy mist, and there was a faint chirping of birds mixed with the wind gusts that rustled the budding leaves on the tree. For miles and miles it was just us four, earth, wind, water, and sky.
I climbed out from the truck, grabbing a couple old blankets and a tackle box from the back as if I’d never forgotten our old routine. Spreading the blankets out near the shoreline, I lowered myself into a seated position and watched Beau attach lures and secure bobbers to the kiddie poles. He showed them how to cast and draw the line in a few times before taking a step back. With a hand on his hip, he watched proudly before backing up to where I sat underneath the old oak.
“Not fishing today?” I asked.
“Nah,” he said. “This is for them. They’re not going to catch much here without live bait, but they seem to be having fun.”
He crouched down, taking a seat beside me on a scratchy plaid blanket. The tepid May air brushed the hair from my eyes as I tugged up thick blades of grass that poked up around the blanket and scattered them into the wind.
“This is what it’s all about, Dakota,” he said, pulling in a deep breath. He drew his long legs up, wrapping his strong arms around his knees and keeping a close eye on the kids.
“You’re going to have to be more specific,” I said, staring straight ahead at the picturesque view that surrounded us.
“Family,” he said. “Family is everything.”
“You ready yet?” I rapped on her door, pressing my ear closer. She’d spent a solid hour getting ready to go out Monday night. As long as she was taking to clean up, I’d have figured she was making some kind of red carpet appearance.
The door burst open a second later followed by a light gust of perfume and hairspray. A vision in black, her legs were hugged by leather leggings and a sparkly black top which hung low enough to give a man a heart attack but still left enough up to the imagination. Diamond studs flashed from beneath her long, dark hair. She bent down, placing a pair of heels on the floor and then stepping into them, instantly bringing her up to my level. Well, almost.
“Ready,” she said.
One look from head to toe and I’d lost my train of thought for a minute. “All right then. Ivy’s down at the Rusty Nail, waiting for us.”
It took every last bit of strength, but I resisted placing my hand on the small of her back as I followed her down the stairs.
“We’re taking the ‘Vette tonight,” I announced the second we stepped outside.
“What is this, a date?” she asked.
I pulled the keys from my pocket and unlocked her door, pulling it open. “Only if you want it to be.”
Ten minutes later, we were walking into the Rusty Nail, or The Nail as the locals always called it.
“Beau!” Waylon, the bartender, greeted me as he wiped up the bar. A few regulars sat hunched over the bar nursing their beers, turning long enough to see it who it was before turning back to their drinks. That was always the nice thing about Darlington. It was the only place in most of America that I could walk into a hometown bar and be left alone enough to enjoy a couple drinks. “Who’s this pretty little thing on your arm?”
“This is Dakota,” I said, gripping my arm around her tense shoulders. “She’s an old friend of mine. We go way back.”
“You ain’t from around here, are you, darling?” Waylon asked, keeping his eyes above neck-level out of respect for me.
“Actually, I grew up here.” She smiled politely.
Waylon tossed her a cock-eyed smile. “Huh. Didn’t know Darlington ever made anything as pretty as you.”
“Hey, now, Waylon.” I placed my hand in the air as if to imply she was spoken for.
“Sorry, Beau,” Waylon laughed. “Darling, what are we drinking tonight?”
Dakota opened her mouth to order, but I stopped her. “We’re going to start out with some shots. Three tequila shots, Waylon.”
“You got it.” Waylon spun around and grabbed a bottle of Patron and some sliced lime wedges.
“You seen Ivy?” I asked. “Said she was here already.”
Waylon nodded toward the back of the bar where Ivy was cornered by Billy Loeffler, the guy who’d chased her all around in her younger days – the guy I’d chased away from h
er every chance I got.
“Ivy,” I shouted out, grabbing her attention. She popped her head up, her face lighting up like a sky full of stars when she saw us. She tore herself away from a disappointed-looking Billy and ran to the bar. “What’re you doing over there with Billy?”
“He cornered me.” She rolled her eyes before eyeing the shots Waylon lined up for us one by one. “Oh, you’re bad.”
“Ready?” I handed the ladies their shots and sprinkled salt on the tops of their hands.
Salt. Shoot. Suck.
Dakota slammed her glass down on the bar and slapped her hand down, her face puckered and pinched from the tart lime.
“One more,” Dakota said, motioning toward Waylon.
“Your wish is my command, princess,” Waylon said as he readied another round.
Dakota’s shoulders relaxed a bit and her face unstiffened.
“I don’t know if I should be offended that you need to drink to have fun around me or happy that you’re finally loosening up,” I said.
“I’m just trying to have a good time,” she said. “Don’t read anything into it.”
We’d spent the whole morning fishing with the kids before Ivy’d come to get them. That afternoon, I’d made Dakota a late lunch of tuna salad on white with potato chips as we sat in the rocking chairs on the porch mostly in silence. She hadn’t asked me a single question, and I hadn’t offered anything other than my company as she seemed to spend most of the day lost in thought.
The familiar deep rift of one of my older hits blasted from the speakers.
“Aw, Beau!” Waylon said with a proud grin. “That’s what I’m talkin’ about.”
“Tailor Made,” Ivy said, bumping into me as my own familiar voice began rumbling and twanging over the music.
“Is this you?” Dakota asked, tilting her head toward the speaker. “It is.”
“My first platinum hit,” I said with an air of bittersweet melancholy, recalling how fantastic yet disappointing it was to hear the big news that day. I’d achieved something most people only ever dreamed of, yet I had no one to share it with – which was my own damn fault. “This song was about you, Kota.”
She whipped her eyes in my direction, and I nodded, watching as she pretended not to be listening intently.
“Waylon, can I get a beer?” I called out before leaning into her. “All my songs were about you, Kota. How could they not be?”
The jingle of the bells hanging on the door ushered our attention to the right, where a petite little platinum blonde with a mouth-gaping grin ran straight in our direction.
“Dakota Andrews,” she said, beaming as she spread her arms wide. Dakota met her hug with a smile.
“Annelise,” Dakota said, looking her up and down. They’d been best friends all through high school, and something told me they’d lost touch shortly after that. “How are you?”
“I ran into Ivy earlier today. She told me you were in town,” Annelise said, her eyes sparkling. “I just had to come down here and see you.” Annelise turned toward me, leaning across Dakota and smacking me playfully on the arm. “And Beau. Gosh, it’s been too long, you guys. This feels just like old times – Dakota Andrews and Beau Mason.”
Dakota tossed back her tequila, skipping the salt and lime that time and slamming the glass on the bar. “Will you excuse me for just a moment?”
She hopped down from the stool and headed back toward the restroom, emerging moments later. As I nursed my beer, I caught a glimpse of her out of the corner of my eye, standing in the back and chit-chatting with Billy Loeffler.
“Oh, look,” Ivy said with a chuckle. “Billy’s trying to sink his meat hooks into Dakota.”
My jaw set as my gaze darted in their direction. A flash of jealousy heated my body as I pulled in a slow breath. I watched from afar as Dakota smiled at him, leaning in as he placed his hand on her arm. But when he leaned in to whisper something in her ear, that’s when I snapped.
“Don’t do it, Beau,” Ivy muttered under her breath. I had a jealous streak a mile wide, especially when it came to watching the woman I loved smile like that at fucking Billy Loeffler.
I stood up and worked my way to where they stood in the back of the bar. “Hey, guys. Billy, how’s it going?”
Billy strategically leaned in closer to Dakota, edging me out.
Wrong move, asshole.
I placed my hand on the small of Dakota’s back before gripping a fistful of her shirt and pulling her my way.
“So, anyway, you want to get dinner some night this week while you’re in town?” Billy asked her, ignoring my territorial stance. “It’d be great to catch up.”
“Oh, um.” Dakota turned to me.
“She’s busy.” I took her hand, lacing her fingers into mine, and steered her back toward the bar.
“Hey,” she said, jerking her hand out of mine when we got back to our seats. “What was that for?”
“You’ve got no business associating with Billy.” I hunched over the bar and pulled my beer closer. “He hasn’t changed a lick since we were younger.”
“Are you…are you jealous, Beau?” Dakota arched an eyebrow, stifling a grin.
“Does it even matter?”
She lifted a shoulder and flashed a full on lopsided smile courtesy of the two tequila shots coursing her veins. “It’s just cute, is all.”
“Not trying to be cute.”
“Haven’t had anyone get jealous over me in a long time,” she mused. “I’d forgotten what it feels like.”
Her hard exterior was bending like the wand of a willow right before my eyes, and tiny hints of the old Dakota were making their way to the surface.
“Anyway,” she said, shaking her head. “He cornered me as I left the ladies’ room. I had no intention of taking him up on his offer.”
“Smart girl.” I took a swig of beer and let out a hops-and-barley flavored sigh. Staring straight ahead, I felt the warmth of her gaze upon me. Heavy and crushing and not knowing what it meant, I basked in it.
All those years on the road, all I ever craved was to be connected with her again. About the time I was ready to call her, she’d disappeared on me. A few years back, I’d come home and ran into her mama, who told me she’d gotten married and moved to New York City.
It was as if I’d been running to catch a plane and had to stand by and watch it fly away without me.
I never wanted to feel the way I felt that day again so long as I lived.
“So, Dakota, what’s it like living in New York?” Annelise asked, pulling Dakota’s gaze away from me.
“Exciting.” Dakota let out a dreamy breath. “There’s just this buzz, like the whole city’s alive. Constantly. It’s exciting. It’s kind of magical.”
“I’ve always dreamed of moving someday. Getting out of this stupid town,” Annelise groaned. “Good for you for doing it.”
“What’s stopping you?” Dakota asked, swatting her shoulder. “You know, Addison lives in the city too. Between the two of us, we could help you get on your feet if you ever decide to move. Addison owns a realty company. She’s always hiring new agents. And I can pass your name along at the network. We’re always looking for researchers and production assistants.”
I watched from the sidelines as Annelise’s face lit up at the thought of moving to New York, and Dakota’s hand gestures were wildly animated as she rambled on and on about why she loved New York.
Maybe she was more rooted there than I’d realized.
I’d been to the city countless times. It was suffocating and gray. Crowded sidewalks and rude people hustling and bustling to get to where they needed to go. The rat race never appealed to me, but it drew people like Dakota in every day. The city was a symbol of hope and new beginnings, offering the promise of a new beginning to those in middle American who found their lives dreadfully inadequate. It pulled in all kinds of people who wanted an escape: people like Dakota.
Maybe I couldn’t compete with New York City, but I c
ould offer her a new beginning. She could begin again – with me. Back home. Where she belonged.
“Oh, shoot,” Annelise said, staring at the neon clock behind Waylon. “I should get going. I just wanted to stop by and say hello.”
Annelise leaned in, wrapping her arms around Dakota. I was beginning to think that grin was a permanent fixture on her round face. The girls exchanged numbers and the second Annelise left, Dakota spun back around toward me.
Our eyes locked, refusing to let go until one of us gave. It wouldn’t be me. I’d never give in. As far as I was concerned, there wasn’t any other girl on God’s green earth more worth waiting for than her.
“You enjoying yourself?” I asked, breaking our silence.
“I think so,” she said, her voice sweet off her cherry lips. Her nails drummed on the counter.
“You think so?” I quoted her. “Tell me, sweetheart, what can I do ensure that you’re really enjoying yourself?”
She rubbed her lips together and cocked her head to the side. “You could kiss me again.”
Did I hear that right?
I scratched the side of my chin, throwing her a cock-eyed smile. “Baby, I’d love nothing more than to kiss the hell out of you right now, but you’re not quite in your right state of mind.”
“How do you know that?”
“Because you just downed two shots of tequila and you’re looking at me like you’re one more shot away from jumping my bones.” I smirked. “All you’ve done since you’ve been here is remind me that you’re here for work and you have no intention of entertaining any kind of physical relations with me.”
She swung her leg over the other, crossing them as she leaned into me.
“Waylon, another drink please,” she said, her eyes locked into mine. “Dirty martini. I’m in the mood for something classic.”
Desire stirred inside me, tightening my ribs and sending a twitch to my palms as I forced myself to resist her a bit more. Dakota was a strong, intelligent woman who loved a good challenge, and it suddenly dawned on me that I still knew her better than anyone else did. Forget the fancy clothes and expensive hairdo. She was still the same driven, ambitious, and impossibly stubborn girl she’d always been. I should’ve known throwing myself at her wasn’t going to work.
Never is a Promise Page 9
