Casanova Cowboy (A Morgan Mallory Story)

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Casanova Cowboy (A Morgan Mallory Story) Page 30

by Loomis, Lisa


  “I invited Tate to meet us at The Beacon tonight,” Eric said as he drove me back to Ginny’s.

  “When, I mean, when did you ask him?” I asked, not recalling any exchange like that.

  “He asked me if we were doing anything later. And he didn’t mean me, he meant you,” Eric said, glancing over at me.

  I sucked air into my lungs. I could feel Tate’s hands on my back, strong hands. Could feel the excitement I’d felt.

  “Eric, I don’t know. I don’t know if I’m ready,” I said, feeling panicky.

  “If you think that way, you will never be ready. This one’s a no-brainer. He is coming to meet you, Lynn, and me. Tate’s making it easy, it’s about the farthest from a real date that you can get. Test the water, Morgan. Put your big toe in, if you don’t put yourself out there, how are you going to know? We’ve all gotten our heart broken, and it’s not till we’re further down the road that we figure out it was the best thing ever,” Eric said.

  I didn’t think I would ever feel it was the best thing ever.

  “Okay,” I said reluctantly. “How come Tate’s single anyway? He’s too good-looking not to have girls fawning over him. They should be jumping like salmon into his bed.”

  “Oh, he does. Just hasn’t wanted any recently. His last girlfriend lived with him. He caught her in his bed with another guy. He went home unexpectedly and…bad surprise. So, you see, we all have our issues,” Eric explained.

  The visual was bad; I could feel his heart breaking, could feel the raw pain rip through my body at finding something like that.

  “He hate women now?” I asked.

  “No, I don’t think he hates them. He’s disillusioned with them,” Eric said.

  “Two disillusioned people… Not sure that’s a good combo either,” I said.

  “Quit overthinking it. We’re going out for martinis, you’re not getting married,” Eric teased.

  His comment made me laugh.

  “Thanks, Eric, I needed that,” I said, realizing I was doing exactly that, overthinking it.

  He pulled into the driveway and put the truck in park. Eric leaned his forearms on the steering wheel and smiled at me.

  “Get ready, sweetie, Lynn and I will be back at seven to pick you up,” he said. “Regarding Tate, that’s going to be up to you and him. For now, it’s a drink.”

  I looked out the window at the pines, could hear the magpies squawking, and missed my mom.

  “You know, I really should be going to bed, not out for drinks,” I said, “but I am sort of excited.”

  “See you in a bit,” he said, grinning as he put the truck in reverse.

  Ginny was gone, and Doug was in his room when I got home. Brad was working, and I hoped he had caught up on some sleep.

  “Hey, Doug,” I said, poking my head in his room.

  “Hi. Did you have a good day on the lake?” he asked.

  “Great day,” I said. “I’m going out with Eric and Lynn and Tate tonight.”

  “Tate? Is he your date?” Doug asked, surprised.

  I wanted to flop down on his bed and ask a million questions about Tate, but I held back.

  “No, it’s casual. He’s meeting us for a drink at Beacon’s,” I answered. “Is he okay? Like an okay guy?”

  “Tate? Yeah, he’s cool,” he said, concentrating on something on his desk. “Oh, and by the way, Liz called to check on you. Sounds like a cool girl. Good friend?”

  “She is,” I said. “One of the best.”

  As I got ready to go out, what Eric said came back to me, about Tate catching his girlfriend. I could at least be thankful I hadn’t caught Ryan cheating on me, although maybe it would have been easier. If I could hate him, it might not hurt so much. I was finishing my makeup when I realized I was dressing for a man. That I wanted Tate to pay attention, notice me. In a way it was shocking, in a way a relief.

  By the time Eric and Lynn picked me up, I was feeling like I might be able to open that door a little, encouraging myself to open the door. When we got to The Beacon, Tate was waiting at the bar. He was looking incredibly handsome, yet casual in a pale purple polo shirt, jeans, and flip-flops.

  “You look great,” he said, checking out my outfit.

  He gave me a subtle, slow, head to toe with his eyes and it made me feel sexy.

  “Thanks, so do you,” I said, pleased I’d chosen the low-cut, white halter-top and short jean skirt.

  His compliment was a great boost for my ego. I knew no bra, open bare back, and tan skin helped the whole look. Maybe I can do this I thought as I took the barstool next to him while Eric and Lynn took the barstools on the other side of Tate.

  “Are we doing martinis like we talked about?” Eric asked, looking down the bar at me for confirmation.

  “Martini’s good,” I said as I noticed Tate had a beer in front of him already.

  “Tate?” Eric asked.

  “Sure, I’ll do a martini.”

  Eric ordered four vodka martinis straight up.

  “Can I have mine dirty,” I asked the bartender.

  “Sure thing,” he said, wiggling four glasses into the crushed ice to chill.

  We sat at the bar and drank martinis and talked. By the third one, I realized I was getting pretty buzzed.

  “So are we having dinner here? I’m feeling like I need to get something to eat,” I said.

  Eric shrugged his shoulders in indifference.

  “I could do dinner here. Lynn?”

  “It’s okay with me. We’ve got to eat somewhere. Saves me from having to cook,” she said happily.

  “Tate?” I asked.

  “Fine with me.”

  “I’ll get us a table,” Eric said, getting up.

  “I’ll be back,” I said, excusing myself.

  I went to use the restroom. Coming back out I could see the lake through a glass door to my right so I ventured around back to the beach. The loneliness I felt earlier washed over me again, a hallow feeling inside. I took off my shoes and walked down to the waters edge. The moonlight danced on the water. There was a slight breeze, so the lake lapped softly at the shore. What would I do when I went back home? What was waiting for me? The same low paying jobs. An empty condo. I had a finance degree now; it was time to start looking for a real job, one job. I thought maybe I should consider another change; look at opportunities in other places. Maybe I should move here, start over.

  “Eric got us a table by the window,” Tate said softly, coming up behind me.

  “Oh good,” I said, surprised. “Sorry, the beach was calling, and I guess, I lost track. This lake is so beautiful.”

  When he came closer and put his arm around my shoulder, I leaned into him, enjoying his warmth.

  “It is beautiful, isn’t it,” he said dreamily.

  The romantic tone of his voice woke the butterflies within and they took flight. There was no question I was physically attracted to him. We both had felt it earlier on the boat, that animal allure that draws you to someone. I wondered if it could ever be more than that; starting the whole process over seemed daunting to me. Did I even want to? Risk potential failure again? Eric had told me to stick my toe in the water, and damn it, I was trying.

  “Tate, I have to go slow, real slow, maybe too slow for you, but it’s the only way it can work for me right now,” I said.

  “I understand,” he said tenderly, taking my hand. “Let’s go have some dinner.”

  The rest of the month I spent much the same way. I ran in the mornings and went to the beach during the day. At night I hung out with whoever wasn’t working. Tate didn’t push me, and after awhile, I relaxed, knowing he wouldn’t. He took me out boating often, and to dinner and drinks. We talked openly enough that we understood we had both been hurt recently and were trying to recover.

  “Hi, Mom,” I said when she answered the phone.

  I’d talked to her once or twice a week, filling her in on what I was doing. I’d gotten over being mad that she let Ryan know where I was.
I hadn’t heard from him since then.

  “I’m excited you’re coming home next week,” she gushed. “Dad’s flying up on Friday to Reno. You need to pick him up at the airport. He’s really looking forward to the two of you driving home together.”

  “Mom, I still think it’s silly you two are afraid to let me drive home alone, but whatever,” I said.

  I jumped up and sat on Ginny’s kitchen counter swinging my tan legs a little, admiring their color.

  “Listen, it’s good bonding time for the two of you. Time to talk; he wanted to do it,” she said.

  “I’ve been thinking a lot about now what, about job searching, you know for a real job. I’m thinking I may move up here. Thinking I need a change,” I said.

  There was silence on the other end.

  “Mom?”

  “I’m here,” she said.

  I knew she didn’t like the idea and felt like I needed to give her a reason, a positive reason, not making my thought so impulsive.

  “I met a guy. His name is Tate. Super hot, although he’s been hurt recently too. I’ve spent time with him. I told him it would have to move slowly. I don’t know if he’ll wait, but…maybe it’s worth pursuing,” I said.

  She sighed and then more silence as she digested this new information. I hadn’t told her about Tate before because this is the reaction I knew I’d get.

  “Mom, you should be jumping up and down, ‘great Morgan, glad to hear you’re healing’,” I said, mimicking her voice. “Instead I get silence.”

  It annoyed me that I’d been right about what her reaction would be.

  “I’ve been talking to Ryan. He misses you,” she said.

  She’d told me they had been meeting pretty regularly. I didn’t understand why.

  “God damn it, Mom,” I said my voice rising. “Quit trying to revive something that’s dead. It’s over. I’m here because I want to get on with my life, and you’re talking to Ryan. Fuck.”

  I felt a flush through my body and I kicked my legs out straight in frustration.

  “I can’t help it. I’m his friend. How was I supposed to stop being his friend? I loved you two together,” she said.

  I could hear the misery in her tone. The wanting to fix it for me, and yet she couldn’t. I wanted her to stop.

  “Mom, stop with Ryan,” I said, angry and short. “You should be pushing me toward Tate. Telling me to go for it. You’ve always said, if a man doesn’t know what he wants, it’s his loss. Ryan was willing to lose it.”

  “I know,” she said, her voice quivering.

  I pressed the receiver to my ear, feeling bad for her. Realizing she’d had some of the same angst that I’d felt. Brad came into the kitchen and rummaged in the refrigerator for sandwich fixings as I talked. He gave me a supportive smile as he spread mayonnaise on his bread.

  “Mom, I lost what I thought was the love of my life and my best friend in one fell swoop…” I started, trying to keep my voice calm. “He was the one who said he wasn’t in love. He was the one who met a girl, remember? I came here hoping to erase some of the pain. I’ve actually been doing a somewhat decent job of it. Please don’t pull Ryan into it. Please don’t make me feel all that hurt again.”

  I felt like I was begging, my trying to be calm shattering with her betrayal. Why was she was on Ryan’s side, and not mine. For some crazy reason that I couldn’t understand.

  “Okay, I understand,” she said.

  By the sound of her voice, I knew she wasn’t done beating the Ryan thing. When I hung up the phone, Brad was still in the kitchen, relaxed against the sink quietly eating his sandwich.

  “Sounds like she’s determined about you and Ryan,” he said.

  “She’s smoking crack or something,” I said, putting my face in my hands. “I don’t know what her deal is, or what bullshit Ryan is feeding her.”

  “Call Tate,” he said through a mouthful of sandwich.

  I was through with crying, I didn’t want to shed one more tear over Ryan. Why Mom, do you not seem to understand that? I didn’t call Tate, my nerves were too raw, I called Liz instead. I needed brutally honest logic.

  My last week in Tahoe, I spent a lot of time with Tate; I really liked him. We were both moving slowly, cautiously. We were able to talk comfortably with no need to rush things. I was starting to feel like it might be able to go somewhere, that I might be able to let him in.

  Tate and I spent one of my last days in town on his boat. We talked candidly with each other, about our past loves. We understood there was still hurt to get over on both our parts. We needed to build the trust, the friendship, before we could think about anything more. He told me to be in touch, if and when I decided to come back.

  Tate held me, and when we kissed, I was pleasantly surprised that it felt so nice. I realized then that I could never go back to the love-them-and-leave-them pattern. Ryan had taught me something after all—that love mattered. I could no longer be casual about sex and men. I wanted a relationship, and I was going to make certain that it was good and solid before giving my whole heart. I had always thought Mathew’s idea of giving half or whole was ridiculous, but I understood it now.

  When I picked Dad up in Reno, I felt anxious, jumpy almost, at the thought of leaving Tahoe. Going back to a place where the landscape had changed. We spent my last night on Ginny’s deck, talking. Dad was curious about my state of mind. I was honest with him: I wasn’t sure. I told him that I didn’t want to go home, but I knew that I had to. I didn’t share all my thoughts, but I knew if I was going to make a big life change, there were a lot of things I needed to get squared away.

  Chapter 42

  As Dad and I talked the sun started to set between the pine trees; little slivers of light filtering through their branches. I was amazed that a month had gone by so fast. When I left home for Tahoe, my intention was to cure my hurt quickly, recklessly, throw myself out there, dive back into bad habits with abandon, and move on. I had tried, but it wasn’t easy. I couldn’t wash the feelings away like dirt and be over it. My head was still trying to convince my heart it was for the best. I’d said goodbye to Tate earlier in the day, and now, sitting here with Dad made me think of home. There were a few things I missed, especially my mom.

  I barbecued shrimp and steak that night, and the three of us had a farewell dinner. The smell of pine filled my senses, and the magpies squawked in the cool evening air. Those damn birds had attacked my head more than once on my morning runs. Runs where I’d tried to clear my mind of Ryan, tried to think rationally about life and love. Their sound reminded me of that, would always remind me that there could be new beginnings. I knew I would miss this place too.

  “I’ve loved having her here,” Ginny gushed to Dad. “It’s been a real treat. She can come back anytime.”

  “You may be surprised how soon that is, Ginny,” I said with a wink, as I’d shared my thoughts with her about coming back.

  Ginny and I cried the next morning as we hugged in the driveway; she had listened patiently all month to my troubles. And yes she’d mothered me just like I’d expected she would. Brad and Doug were up to give me a hug and say goodbye. Emotion welled up from my stomach making my throat tighten as I took one last look around. I didn’t want to go back and face things again, but I knew it was important.

  The drive home was good bonding time. Dad and I talked about all sorts of things, enjoyed a few stops, lunch on the road, and even shared feelings about music preferences. He never brought up Ryan. Dad and I pulled up to the house right around dinnertime that Saturday, and Mom came rushing through the gate the minute she heard us.

  “Ohhh,” she squealed grabbing me up in a hug as I got out of the car.

  She held me so tight it felt hard to breath. I could smell her Dove soap, clean and light and so Mom. Oh, how I’ve missed you!

  “I’m so glad you’re home. I’ve missed you so much,” she said, pulling away to take a look at me. “You look great: fit and tan. Come on, come on, I know I’ve
heard it, but I want to hear all about it again.”

  Dad laughed as she whisked me off towards the house, her arm linked through mine. Having talked all the way home Dad was feeling filled in. It was Mom’s turn now.

  “I’m leaving your stuff in the car, right?” he called after us.

  “Yes, I’m going home tonight,” I answered.

  “No, you aren’t. Not tonight, tonight I get you. You can go home tomorrow,” she said squeezing my hand.

  “We’ll see, Mom.”

  She had made a tray of chicken enchiladas, which she knew I loved. Pat was home for dinner, and we talked about Tahoe. Pat filled me in on his activities over the last month, most of which involved parties. He was working odd jobs in between. It felt nice to be back around my family, laughing and joking like the old days. Dad and Pat excused themselves after dinner, and Mom and I stayed at the kitchen table. She was delighted to have me home. She was beaming, and I was enjoying her happiness.

  The phone rang interrupting us, and she got up to answer it. She answered whoever it was in short answers and then not so short, I finally could tell by her responses it was Ryan. My body stiffened as I listened to her. I could especially feel it in my neck and I thought about Tate’s hands, trying to focus on something else.

  “We just finished dinner. She got in about five,” she said, watching me as she listened. “No, Steve flew up and drove back with her.”

  I could faintly hear his voice at the other end.

  “No. I’m making her stay here tonight. I’ve missed her. She can’t go running home to a dark house,” she explained.

  She listened.

  “No,” she said.

  I wondered what he asked, why he called tonight while I was at the house. She looked at me, and I knew what was coming.

  “He wants to talk to you,” she said, putting her hand over the mouthpiece.

  I shook my head, declining. She held out the receiver towards me anyway. I grabbed two handfuls of hair and pulled them up, indicating my anger. I could not believe she was doing this. This was no coincidence I realized. They had planned this. The two of them had planned this phone call. I stared at her holding the phone. She knew I was mad. I got up from the table and went to the phone, yanking the receiver from her.

 

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