He turns to his buddy, Garret Everling. “Bet he’s not as good as me.”
They both laugh at his comment and a petite blonde snuggles up to his side. I’m stunned when her gaze meets mine, and they’re a familiar pair of shamrock irises. Of all people I’d run into, she’d be one of them. Not sure why she’d be with him though.
“Shyla?” My brow furrows in confusion. Why on earth would she be around someone like Sebastian? She’s way out of his league.
“Hi, Clyde.” Her cheeks flush just a touch, and I swear her eyelashes flutter like they have the past few times we’ve crossed paths.
She’s grown up—a lot. I’ve passed her in the halls as we go to the same high school—pretty much everyone around here does, but I usually keep to myself or my friends. She’s a hard one to miss though. Even in a crowd, she stands out.
“You two know each other?” Sebastian straightens to his full height as if he could intimidate me. I’d crush him. Hasn’t he heard what I like to do besides play ball? He tugs her in closer to his chest and Shyla nods, silently answering him. “You sweet on my girl, Owens?”
“Nah. I’m just curious why she’d be with someone like you.”
I should just walk away—I know it. However, something’s making my feet stay rooted in place. She’s beautiful and kind, and she deserves much better than the likes of him. No one is good enough for her as far as I’m concerned.
“With me?” he sputters, glancing at his friend in shock. His forehead scrunches, annoyance overcoming him.
My shoulders grow stiff, my hands tingling with the anticipation of getting to plant my fist in this guy’s face. “Yeah, that’s what I said.”
“Clyde?” My father asks from right behind me. It’s not him checking if it’s me standing in front of him, but him testing if everything’s all right or if I need some kind of backup. That’s my dad though—always there when I need him, always standing by my side when I face something.
“Yes, sir?” I reply, and the two dipshits in front of me laugh. Just a couple of disrespectful pricks, apparently.
“Is there an issue here, gentlemen?” he smooths over, coming to stand beside me. I don’t care how much my mother keeps saying I’m growing; I don’t think I’ll ever be as big as my father. The man is a beast, with hard-earned muscles from working the ranch every day. His regard lands on the young woman in front of me. “Well, if it isn’t little ol’ Shyla. How’s your momma, sugar?”
The peanut gallery quiets, clearly intimidated by my father. Part of me wants to snicker. Hell, I’d be shitting myself too if I came up against him when he’s pissed. I’d bet my dad could knock these guys out with one punch each if he wanted to. He won’t, but I know he could.
Shyla flashes a pleased smile. “Hi, Mr. Owens. She’s doing well. Thanks for asking.”
He nods. “You know, we’re headed over to the diner in town to celebrate with the team. Why don’t you join us? They have the best pie around but don’t tell my wife I said that.”
“Oh, thank you, sir, I’d love to, but I didn’t drive.”
“You’re welcome to ride with my wife and me. We don’t mind.”
Her hopeful gaze meets mine, and I paste on a grin. I want her there; I’ve always liked her. I’m not too surprised with my pop’s either. Hes never been one to hold back on inviting mine or my brother’s friends to hang out with us.
Sebastian’s grip tightens. “We’ve got plans, Shyla.”
“I agreed to come to the game with you, but it’s over, so…” She trails off, her stare falling to the concrete at her feet.
“You’d look like a slut coming here with me and then heading over there with him,” he retorts snidely.
My dad’s cheeks redden—a sure sign his temper’s growing. “I suggest you learn how to speak to a lady, young man.”
“Shut up, old man,” he counters with a sneer, and a switch flips inside my brain.
I’m on him like white on rice. My knuckles meet scruffy flesh as my fist connects with his cheek. I pull back and slam down another, hitting bone, enjoying the crunch as it breaks his nose. I’m still hyped up from the football game; the win has had my adrenaline going for a while.
He gets his licks in as well, his right hook catching me in the eye. It’s no doubt going to leave a mark, but I’ll wear it proudly knowing I was standing up for my father.
It’s over in seconds as my dad and uncle tear us apart. I didn’t notice my uncle or my cousin Dallas around before, but they’re definitely here now. At least I have someone to back up my story if coach catches wind of what happened. I definitely don’t want to get benched because of this clown.
“Easy, Clyde, easy. Don’t waste your time on lost causes,” my dad grumbles with my uncle standing between our group and Sebastian.
Breathing deeply, my eyes find Shyla’s. “Shy?”
She’s by my side instantly, my arm falling over her shoulders like it’s always belonged there. My glower hits Seb, full of challenge. I’m daring him to give me another reason to squash him. He holds his own for a few seconds before eventually turning away like the weak man we all know he is.
The feminine frame tucked under my arm burrows into me closer, and I meet her grateful stare. “Looks like you’re all mine, little Shyla.” It leaves me a bit gruffly.
“I always have been Clyde Owens; ‘bout time you figured that out.”
Senior Year
The last game of the season and this is it—my chance. “Wonderful Tonight” by Alan Jackson begins to play lowly over the intercom system, and the stands grow quiet. Not an easy feat considering we just won our championship game, and everyone’s excited. However, most of them know this was a part of my plan. I can’t believe they were able to keep it a secret like I’d asked.
And there she is, standing out amongst everyone. When it comes to her, she always outshines everyone in my eyes. She’s easily become the most important person in my life.
Approaching Shyla, the love of my life, coach hands me the tiny box that’ll make her mine for the rest of my life. Falling to my knees comes naturally. This young woman owns me. Instantly, I choke up with emotion because this is it. I know everyone is rooting for us—for this. The bleachers are full of people—family and friends that love us both. They’re excited to see the fairy tale ending of the classic high school sweethearts adored by the town that stood by and watched as they fell in love with each other. They want the happily ever after just like I do.
“Sh-Shyla…” I can’t even say her name without feeling it right down to my very soul. “My love, my life, you are everything—my entire world.” Swallowing, I open the box without breaking eye contact.
Tears crest, and it’s a relief—one I hadn’t realized I needed. She’s excited. She knows this is our forever that we’ve spoken about so many times before.
“Promise you’ll stay with me for the rest of my years. Let me love you with every breath I have. Let me cherish you as you deserve. I love you, Shyla. Say you’ll be my wife and make my life complete.”
Tears cascade over her fair skin, leaving trails in their wake. Her irises, emerald in color right now, shine with so much. My breath catches as I work up the nerve to voice the words.
“Marry me?” I finally ask, taking her dainty hand in my palm, ready to place my grandmother’s ring on her finger.
“Oh God,” she gasps and the tears rain down harder. “I-I love you, Clyde Owens. I truly do. But…”
Tears gather in my own eyes. Suddenly this doesn’t feel so promising. My chest tightens in anticipation, my stomach rolling at her first few words.
“But, I uh, accepted a scholarship at a different school than yours.”
“You broke our plan?” It leaves me in an astonished whisper. I’m caught so off guard, it’s all I can manage. She’s mentioned nothing about this before.
The stands are deathly quiet. I’d forgotten that they were there though. Nothing else matters at this moment but her and me and right now.
Yet, I swear they can hear every word we say even being far away.
She hiccups and nods. “I’m sorry, but I had to do what was best for me.”
“I don’t understand.” My voice grows stronger as I stand, my arms crossing over my broad chest, defensive. “A-are you telling me no? You won’t be my wife?”
“I can’t Clyde…I’m sorry.”
The ring box snaps closed in my palm, the same as my heart does in my chest. Not only has she completely shattered my heart, but two teams, students and all of my family has gotten to witness it happen firsthand and the devastation her words have left in their wake.
“There won’t be another chance, Shyla,” I promise with a gruff rasp. My pride has me standing tall, a wall encasing my love, shutters coming over my eyes as feelings get buried. What once was will never be the same because she’s ruined it.
“Forgive me,” she begs in a shaky breath. Tears rain down her cheeks, and my jaw clenches.
“Never.” The promise leaves me with a growl, and I turn away from her, striding for the locker room.
Fuck her, fuck them, and fuck it all.
This ain’t my first rodeo.
Present day
“What did she want this time?” Nate, my younger brother, asks and gestures to the retreating truck, busily making its way back to the main road.
He’s talking about Shyla. The little witch had to make her weekly stop to pester me about selling my family’s ranch again. She, of all people, should remember how close I was to my parents. There’s no way in hell I’d be selling the only thing I have left of them. She has balls showing up here after so long, I’ll say that much.
“Same shit.” She’s like a ghost, returning after so many years to haunt me. Breaking my heart back in high school wasn’t enough, obviously. She has to return after she’s graduated and grown up to rub salt in the wound. I’d have been fine never seeing her again, but apparently, that’s not in the cards for me. The world wants to see me suffer a bit more, I reckon.
“Taxes? Right? You didn’t get them paid yet?”
I screwed up the first time he asked me about why she was coming around. I was pissed she had the nerve to step foot on the ranch, and he was young when she was around before, so I don’t think he remembers her much. Anyhow, I told him the first thing that came to mind: that she was out to collect property taxes. Most people don’t care for tax collectors, so I deemed her the same title.
I didn’t want to upset him that I’ve been asked to sell dad’s land for the past two years. She’s the newest tactic to get me to sell, I suppose. Ain’t gonna happen though. Real estate developers are right down there with the assholes trapped in hell as far as I’m concerned. They’ve been taking away the livelihood of farmers and ranchers around here for years now.
“You want Ty and me to pitch in? We were serious when we offered before.”
The last thing I need is to take money from my little brothers. Sure, the youngest plays pro football for the best team in the league, but I don’t want him worrying about me. And Nate, well, he works at a bar or something. He needs to save his money and get his shit straight.
“No, I have the money.”
“So get it over with and pay her! We don’t need her getting nosey and checking out the land.”
He means the moonshine, and he’s right.
It’s been the family business for many years; one I’ve kept going even after my parents’ passing. It’s not my only source of income. I do have the ranch. I take in horses and what not to keep me busy and to make some extra cash. The moonshine money is more of a rainy day fund; you only dip into it when you absolutely have to.
As for paying the taxes, well, my parents’ life insurance paid those dues for the foreseeable future. Nate doesn’t know much about that though, nor is he aware that he was left money he’ll have access to later this year on his twenty-eighth birthday. Knowing him, he’ll drink it all away as soon as he touches it.
“You think I don’t know that? I told you, I’ll take care of it,” I finish with a grumble and stomp into the barn to find silence.
This has become my favorite place. It belonged to my dad, and now it belongs to me. I can come in here and clean up and think about shit. Talk to the horses and not have to worry about anyone’s unsolicited judgments or two cents being tossed my way like Nate enjoys doing so much. In here, it’s just me and the horses and my thoughts.
The kid doesn’t have a clue what he’s talking about either. Sure, he’s close in age to me—a few years younger—but you’d never know just by looking at him. He’s been spoiled, not having to do much around here. It’s my own fault wanting to make things easy on him with my parents’ deaths hitting us out of nowhere years back.
Hell, I was just a kid myself when I became his and Ty’s legal guardian. I wish I’d have known what to do. Instead, I felt like I was drowning the entire time I should have been grieving. I let my scholarship to college slip away, punched my best friend in the face on the football field in front of the fans and live TV. It was a train wreck, one I’ll never be able to forget.
I’ll never live that one down from others either. Bad enough I lost football, but to create chaos with my best friend, and then my family was an even bigger mess. The damn judge didn’t want me to have anything to do with my brothers, but I fought tooth and nail until he finally gave in and saw I was hell-bent on being their provider and guardian.
It was in my parents’ will as well. To me, that was law, and I’d do whatever I could to make it happen. Ty and Nate were mine and no one else’s. My parents knew that no one would ever take care of them and love them like I do, not even my cousin Dallas’ family.
Maybe Shyla and I spilt for a bigger reason after all. We’d never have made it through such a dark time like that, even though it would’ve been uplifting to have someone to share the responsibilities with. If she couldn’t handle college together, she definitely would’ve bailed on me during my grief and depression.
My folks died, I lost my temper, and I missed out on the future I’d planned for myself. After things went south with Shy, I was determined to play ball and live my life for myself, even though that didn’t end up happening. I wouldn’t trade watching my brothers grow up for anything—unless I could bring my parents back, that is. But I know that could never happen.
Shyla, well, she’s just annoying now. The woman infuriates me, showing up here like she’s welcome. She’s not. I made it loud and clear the first time she pulled into my driveway. The woman’s relentless. No matter how much I grumble and scowl at her, she keeps coming back. It’s no use, though. I’ll never sell this place or be nice to her, for that matter.
And then there’s the way she looks now that pisses me the hell off too. She was always beautiful as much as I hate to admit it, but now…well, now she’s grown into a woman. Beauty like hers is made to haunt a man.
“Clyde?” I’m interrupted in my silent thoughts amongst the horses.
“Yeah?” I shield my eyes from the glare peeking in through the open barn door. It’s my idiot cousin, Dallas.
“Fixed that split in the fence at the back of the ranch.”
“All right.”
“I’m headed to the bar.”
“You takin’ Nate?”
He nods, and I roll my eyes to myself. Of course, he is. The little assholes will come home piss-ass drunk at four a.m. again too. Sometimes I think my brother would rather live in his truck than in the house. Dallas is even worse. I don’t understand why my uncle and aunt haven’t kicked him out on his ass yet.
“Don’t call me if you end up in jail.”
“We won’t.”
I nod, and as he leaves, he mutters, “We’ll call my dad instead.”
That’s him and Nate in a nutshell—stuck in time, never growing up. I thought I was a pain in the ass. Dallas takes the cake on that one. He’s an only child and was ridiculously spoiled by my aunt and uncle growing up. I thought money was supposed to he
lp make you smarter and have more opportunities. In Dallas’ case, it turned him into a dipshit. Nate seems to like him, though, and he’s cheap labor, so I can’t exactly kick him down the road right now.
At least Shyla’s come and gone. I won’t have to worry about seeing her again for at least a week…unless I run into her in town. That’d be my luck. I always wondered what became of her. I loved her with every ounce of my being, and no matter how much I tried to stuff her memory in the back of my mind, a love like that doesn’t just extinguish due to a broken heart.
I hated having her memory constantly riding on my shoulders, knowing I would never have the one thing I truly wanted—besides football. I went to Alabama just like I’d dreamed about growing up, watched the pride in my father’s gaze when he’d seen me help bring home another win, but I never met another woman that scratched the surface when it came to her.
Enough wasting my time thinking about her. I have horses to feed and stalls to clean. Hell, I have an entire ranch to take care of. There’s no time to sit around and think of what ifs or what could’ve been. Like my momma always said, “If it’s worth it, it’ll work out. Either you make it happen or the grace of God will. Otherwise, it’s not meant to be.” Obviously, Shyla and I weren’t meant to be.
Took me a while to figure that out, but it finally sank in.
She was a smart woman—my mom. It seemed like she always knew everything. I remember one instance when it was my birthday, and she made me cookies for school. You see, back then, the cool thing was for your parents to take you out of school for lunch or else bring you cupcakes to share with the class. My mom did neither.
Instead, she spent three days making and decorating special cookies. She cut them out in the shape of horses because I’ve always loved them. She put just enough frosting on them for the ears, eyes, mane, and mouth. The cookies were the best horse cookies I’d ever seen before. I’m ashamed to admit it, but that morning when she handed me the small brown box to take with me, I was embarrassed. I was going to be the weirdo who brought cookies in third grade instead of cupcakes; I could see it clearly. Or so I thought.
3 Times the Heat Page 2
