by Elsa Nickle
“I’ll be fine. But at the moment, I could really use a drink.” He gave another quick smile to Audrey, a look of cold, hard steel to his brother, and then walked past them.
Ethan knew he should have waited for Laurel, but the anger boiling up inside him wouldn’t allow it. Besides, he really didn’t want her to see him like this.
The open bar was made from old barn wood with swags of white flowers and fairy lights.
He lifted a finger to signal the bartender.
“What’ll it be?”
“A shot of whiskey, please.” Ethan braced himself on the makeshift counter. Laurel came and stood beside him. Silent. She put a timid hand on his arm and it nearly broke him. In that moment, all he wanted was for her to hold him. To know that he had someone in his corner. Someone who really, truly cared about him.
But did she? Yes, they’d kissed, but she had run off like a scared rabbit right after. What they had wasn’t even real. As a matter of fact, everything in this forsaken town was fake. The only person who had ever really cared for him had been dead for years now. The pain of his mother’s death stung all the harder in that moment. It was fresh and raw, and he had the sudden, intense urge to just get in his car and drive away. Unfortunately, his car was all the way back at Wyle Away.
The bartender placed the shot glass in front of him. The setting sun reflected through the glass, and Ethan focused on the amber shadow instead of the pain, staring at it until Laurel broke the silence.
“I’m so sorry, Ethan. You seem to be dealing with a lot right now.” She spoke quietly.
He finally looked at her, unsure of what to say. His thoughts were a dust devil, hot and angry, swirling around his mind. He didn’t want to accidentally hurt her by saying something stupid.
“It’s fine,” he lied.
“Is there anything I can do? You’ve done so much for me and I’ve done nothing but take—”
“Laurel, you haven’t asked for anything I wasn’t willing to give.” He wanted to let her know that he was glad she had been there, that having her around, getting to know her, was the one good thing to come out of the trip. But then he saw Jax and Dillon standing by the gazebo, looking over at him and talking with their heads bent together, and his sense of betrayal resurfaced, closing his throat and trapping the words.
Her gaze followed his. “Maybe you should spend this time with your brothers, you know? Maybe this can all be figured out?”
He closed his eyes and shook his head. “That’s the problem. I don’t want to.” In truth, he doubted he’d ever be able to work out the tangled mess that was his relationship with his brothers. “All I want is to get in my car and go back to Santa Barbara.”
Laurel seemed to stiffen. “I get it.” She looked down. “That’s my cue. Besides, I really should go.” She gave a forced smile and when she lifted her eyes back up to meet his, they glistened. “Goodbye, Ethan.” She turned and started walking away. He watched her go, wondering what just happened. He quickly replayed the conversation in his mind to try and figure out what he’d said.
“Wait,” Ethan called out, but she didn’t look back. He went after her, but before he got two steps, he felt a strong arm grab his bicep. He turned to see Dillon.
“Ethan, listen—”
Ethan turned, pointing a stern finger at his brother. “Now is not the time.”
Dillon stepped back and threw his hands up. “Whoa, I just wanted to talk.”
“That conversation needed to happen a year ago.” If they were any place other than the wedding, Ethan might have decked his brother. Instead, he walked back to the bar.
It was all too much. He quickly forced himself to think about other things. His new clinic. His apartment in Santa Barbara. Baseball.
Everything, anything, nothing.
Finally he pushed himself away from the counter, whiskey untouched, and began the three-mile walk back to Wyle Away Ranch. Back to a home that had been all but erased. All the memories that had clung to the corners were now gone with a fresh coat of paint. He belonged there as much as his duct taped vase, standing as an ugly reminder of a time that had once been beautiful.
He wasn’t sure how much time had passed since Laurel left, but by the time he reached his house, it was safe to say the wedding had long been over. Landon was there on the steps, waiting for him.
Ethan looked at his car. It was right there in front of him, mocking him. Even though it was a rental, he wished that he could get in and drive back to California, but the stupid keys were up in his room, and Landon sat on the steps, blocking his path.
Landon must have followed his gaze. “I know you’re mad at us, Ethan, but don’t get in that car.”
Ethan turned from the car to face his brother. “Couldn’t, even if I wanted to. The keys are inside.” Ethan shook his head and made to walk around his brother.
“I mean it. It’s not worth it.” Landon quickly stood.
“What’s not worth it? Leaving a family that hates me?”
Landon sniffed Ethan. “Wait, didn’t you drink?”
“Are you serious?” He had been so angry at first, but now rage engulfed him. “You really think I would drink and drive after what happened to Mom and Dad?” Just saying it out loud sent a fresh wave of anger and sadness over him. Why did his parents have to die? If they had still been here, none of this mess would have ever happened. His mom was the glue that held the family together, while his dad was always there to knock some sense into his knuckleheaded sons.
Landon took a step back as if giving him permission to get his keys.
That was another thing. Why did Landon think he could tell Ethan what he could and could not do? Landon wasn’t the boss of anything except the ranch. He had no authority over Ethan. The only reason Ethan came back home was to show support for his brother on his big day, and it turned out that it was all just a ruse. His brothers were all in on this elaborate scheme to fool people, Ethan included. It was a slap in the face. Proof that they really didn’t think of him as part of their inner circle. He was just another distant relative they needed to put on a show for.
“So that’s it? You’re not even going to try and explain yourself?” Ethan asked even though he hadn’t meant to say anything. In fact, the last thing he thought he wanted was to talk to anyone, especially Landon. What he wanted was to drive away as fast as possible. But the words wouldn’t stay down. He had to hear his brother at least try to apologize.
Landon swept his hand through his hair with a deep breath. “Listen, Ethan, it wasn’t what you think.”
“Strange, where have I heard that before?” Ethan growled. Ethan had tried to explain to Landon why he had chosen to go to vet school before. Had tried to tell him that it wasn’t what Landon thought. That there was more to the story. But Landon never listened.
“Don’t do that. Don’t try to compare you abandoning the ranch to go to some fancy school to me getting married.”
“Really? What was your excuse? I had a once in a lifetime opportunity, and I literally threw it in the trash for you.”
Landon squinted his eyes in confusion.
“Yeah. That’s right. I wasn’t going to go to vet school. I was going to step up to the plate and do my duty as the older son and work on the ranch. But Mom was cleaning my room and found the acceptance letter in the trash. I’m not like the rest of you, Landon. Jaxon was always so popular, Dillon was so smart, and you? You were always the leader. Always. You should have been the oldest. As a matter of fact, I shouldn’t have ever been in this family in the first place.
“Mom knew I was different, and she told me it was okay to follow my dreams and do something else with my life. She was so proud of me. She made me promise to go to California.” He paused, trying to go on, but there was a lump in his throat. His eyes stung. He coughed. “It was the last promise I ever made to her. I told her I’d become a vet.”
“Ethan, I didn’t know—”
“Exactly. You never listened. I tried to explai
n, but you were too quick in hurling your judgment at me because I didn’t drop out of school and come back here to help you run things. I’m sorry I couldn’t, Landon. It wasn’t because I didn’t care. Some days it killed me to sit in classes, knowing that the rest of you were mad at me, but I had to see it through. Not just for me but for Mom. And now, after all the name calling, after all the guilt, you cut me out of the family in an instant.”
Landon rubbed his forehead. “We never meant—”
“Just stop. It’s like you’ve always told me, actions speak louder than words. I’m done.” His shoulder knocked into Landon’s as he made his way up the last step.
When he opened the door into the kitchen, Preston was leaning on the island while Jaxon and Dillon sat at the table.
“Listen, Ethan …” Dillon stood.
“I am so sick of people telling me to listen!” he exploded. “I don’t want to hear it.” When he started to walk toward the living room, Jaxon grabbed his arm to stop him. Ethan shrugged out of his grasp and turned on Jaxon, staring him down. He was tired and angry and wasn’t in the mood to deal with any of their bull.
Jaxon didn’t back down. Now, nose to nose, chest to chest, one word away from a full-out brawl.
“Everyone, just chill!” Preston hurried over to Jaxon. It took a while to pry him away from the situation. Ethan clenched his jaw as well as his fists.
“What is it then? Say your piece so I can get my keys and get outta here.” Ethan lifted his chin to Jax, waiting.
“So that’s it? You’re just going to miss my wedding because you’re mad? Well then, go ahead and get. Do what you do best and run away.”
A fistfight would have hurt less. Ethan shook his head and turned to leave. This time nobody stopped him.
Ethan sat on his bed, keys in one hand, phone in the other. He wanted to call Laurel. Wanted to hear the sound of her voice, to feel the sunshine of her laughter.
But she had walked away. Maybe it was for the best. She’d given him an easy out of a relationship that was beginning to feel real. After all, he wasn’t sticking around. He should have been relieved, but all he felt was a sickening sadness deep down in the pit of his stomach. He’d told himself not to get attached to her. Too bad he hadn’t listened.
Chapter Thirteen
So the best kiss of her life had meant nothing after all.
Ethan had been clear after the wedding—all he wanted was to go back to Santa Barbara. A plan which obviously didn’t include Laurel or even that conversation she was hoping to have about trying a real relationship. She had been foolish to entertain the thought. He was a successful, talented, hot vet. She was a poor, inconsequential, hot mess.
Thinking while sitting in a moving vehicle was one of Laurel’s specialties. She drove around downtown, looping around the same streets, because she didn’t want to go home. She couldn’t face her mother right then, and she didn’t have anyone else to talk to. Dropping out of college had really killed her social life, but she had never felt more alone than at that moment—driving aimlessly in the nicest dress she owned, after essentially being dumped by her fake boyfriend.
Laurel was now one hundred percent sure that she wanted Ethan in her life, and he said he wanted his life in Santa Barbara. And although he wasn’t gone yet, she was already missing him. It wasn’t just the mind-blowing kiss—she would miss Ethan’s laugh, his teasing, his kindness and helpfulness. The way she became fully awake and electrified when he stood too close. The way he made her feel like she could achieve her artist dreams any time she wanted.
He was definitely more impressed with her art than her mom was. How messed up was it that someone she had known for a little more than a week could have more faith in her than her own mother? As she drove by the hotel for the third time, she saw a little family popping out the front doors, laughing and chasing each other. That mom didn’t seem overbearing. She just stood back and watched her children with a smile on her face. She didn’t look like she lived to break her children down.
Because come to think of it, Laurel wouldn’t even be heartbroken at all if it wasn’t for her mom. She had made the stupid dating rules—she had made Laurel take those muffins to the Wyle Away Ranch. This was all her fault. The more Laurel thought about it, the madder she got. Weren’t moms supposed to protect their children? Weren’t moms supposed to love and support their children, no matter what? Her mother had taken the chance to send her into the world to date dozens and dozens of random men, but she couldn’t take a chance on Laurel’s art career.
Suddenly, Laurel wanted nothing more than to scream at her mother. She turned the old Ford toward home with a new purpose.
Laurel had rehearsed a dozen different arguments by the time she parked under that dirty old shed and marched up the path to their peeling back door. She shoved it open and stepped into the kitchen. A utensil clattered. Her mom sat at the table, halfway through a microwave dinner, fork dropped.
She clutched at her heart. “Child, why do you keep scaring me to death?”
Laurel ignored her mom’s question and launched straight into one of her planned, loudly delivered statements. “You can forget about our agreement. I’m going to paint when I want, and I’m not going to date anyone unless I feel like it.”
Her mother slow-blinked, eyebrows high. “You’re home earlier than I expected—”
“Mom, did you hear me? I’m not doing this anymore.”
Now her mother’s eyebrows knit in worry. “Sweetheart, did something happen at the wedding?”
Laurel started pacing so her emotions would have an outlet. She did not want to cry. “That is beside the point. I’m not going to follow your rules. If I need to live in the street, I will. If you can’t accept my life choices—fine. I’m just not playing your game anymore.”
“Honey, it was never a game.”
Laurel stopped and stared right into her mom’s eyes. “Well, it felt like it to me.”
And then Laurel decided to tell her everything.
She took a deep breath. “Do you know that Ethan has been pretending to date me for the past week and a half just so that you would let me paint?”
Her mother frowned in confusion. “Wait, I thought he really liked you.”
That’s where Laurel could relate. For a little while, Laurel had thought he really liked her too. “Well, you were wrong. He was just helping me out, because he is a nice guy. A nice guy who believes in my art more than you ever have, by the way.”
Now her mom seemed stricken, her shoulders collapsing forward like she’d been struck in the chest. “Hold on, I love your art.”
Laurel continued her pacing. “But you don’t believe it’s good enough for me to be a full-time artist.”
Her mother shook her head. “You know how much luck is involved.”
“But you won’t even let me try!” She knew where her mom was coming from. It was maddening to see her mother’s side without her mother able to do the same for her. “I was chosen, Mom. Out of thousands of applicants, one of the best art schools in the nation wanted to see more from me. And you wouldn’t even let me take the time I needed to try. You couldn’t let me have sixty days where I focused and tried to paint my best, without making me date the whole town while I was at it. Do you know how distracting that has been for me? Do you know how embarrassed I’ve been? I’ve had men treat me like garbage— I’ve had guys put me down, and I even had one guy feel me up. Your rules made me feel worse about myself and put me in danger. And I’m done.”
This was more information than she’d given last time. Plus Laurel was shouting. The message seemed to finally be getting through. The color drained from her mother’s face. “Oh, honey, I had no idea. I never meant to—”
“To what?” Laurel was shaking. “To make me feel like I’m not good enough? To make me lie to you just so I could get some work done?”
Her mom’s face crumpled. “I’m sorry. I really am. I never meant to make you feel this way. I promise you don’
t have to date anymore. And I’m sorry if all those dates have gotten in the way of you working on your portfolio.” She swallowed. “I don’t know where the money will come from, but we’ll find a way to get you into that school.”
This should have been music to Laurel’s ears. But she was still so upset, and she wasn’t done speaking her truth. “I don’t even want to go to that school, Mom. Yes, it would be amazing to be chosen and to feel validated. Maybe that’s what I’ve been chasing this whole time, trying to make the final cut. I’m painting constantly, trying to create something amazing, just so someone can tell me I’m good enough.”
Now her mom was crying. “Honey, you are good—”
“Stop!” Laurel cut her off. “I don’t want you to tell me I’m good enough because I’m asking you to say it. The only person lately who has made me feel good about my art is Ethan. And I really like him, Mom. I wish he liked me the way I like him. But that’s gone wrong, too, so I’m taking the car, and I’m going to paint, and I do not want to hear what I owe you for my time.”
Laurel’s tears were getting very close to the surface. She gave her mom one last look before she spun on her heel and launched herself through the door.
The rituals of beginning a painting were usually calming—the choosing of colors, the preparing of her palette, the chalky smell of gesso as she slathered primer over the canvas.
But she had screamed at her mom, and she felt like a jerk.
Her mom had kinda deserved it, but Laurel knew the other side of things. Sheila Mills, former artist’s wife, was just doing her best to save her daughter from a life of poverty and disappointment. But now she had heard Laurel’s side of things, and maybe she could change her views. Hopefully.
Laurel just wanted some comfort, and painting had always been able to relax her in a way that nothing else could. But it hadn’t worked yet. And it wasn’t just the blow-up with her mom that had her mind in a muddle—she couldn’t stop replaying her last hours with Ethan. Their electrifying kiss, his intense anger at his brothers, his cold statement that he just wanted to get in his car and go back to Santa Barbara. Then her brain started all over again with that incredible kiss.
