by Jean Oram
He’d misread her, and it was time to take her ample hints and make himself scarce so she could enjoy the wedding without him doing something even more stupid than he already had.
Roy would surely understand.
“I hear there’s an ugly cowboy in here,” called a familiar male voice—his cousin Levi—as the cottage door slammed shut. “Sorry! These doors close better than the ones on the ranch.”
Great. His cousins were arriving.
“I’m in here,” Nick grudgingly called back, shoving his cell phone and charger in the bag and zipping it up.
Levi appeared in the bedroom doorway, then closed the few feet between them to give Nick a one-armed hug and shoulder slap. “Where you heading off to?”
“Alexa needs help on her ranch.”
“That’s news to me. I just gave her a ride from the airport in my rental. Mustang. Brand-new. Only ninety miles on it when I got in.” He grinned and lifted his cowboy hat to ruffle his hair, before plunking it down again. Nick clearly wasn’t the only one who forgot to take his hat off indoors.
“So?” Levi asked. “What’s the emergency?” He hooked his thumbs behind his large belt buckle, watching Nick as if he planned to solve the issue right here, right now.
“No emergency. Tell your dad good luck and congratulations.”
“Tell him yourself.”
Nick hefted his bag and Ralph moved to his side, no doubt worried about being left behind.
Nick shrugged his left shoulder. “I’m tired of the beach.”
Levi narrowed his eyes. “Already have the local women gunning for you?”
Nick gave a chuckle, but his chest ached with the effort of sounding cavalier. “Naturally.”
“Some things never change.”
Polly had. He really hadn’t seen the Stepford wife thing coming.
“Stick around, have a beer.” Levi disappeared into the main room, where the sitting area joined the kitchen, and released a can from a six-pack. He tossed it over.
Nick caught it and set it on the kitchen counter, his duffel bag slung over his shoulder. Nobody in the family drank even a drop before driving. Their uncle Danny, Roy’s partner in running the ranch, had been killed by a driver who had been under the influence of alcohol. After not eating all day, the man had enjoyed a drink before hitting the road, and it had been enough to impact his reaction time. Trying to swerve, he’d sideswiped Danny, who died later from internal injuries. The entire clan had wordlessly instituted a not-one-drink-before-you-drive vow. One beer would mean Nick would be stuck here for at least an hour.
“I should hit the road,” he muttered. “It’s a long drive back to Texas.”
“I said quit your running and have a beer.” Levi opened a lager for himself and leaned against the counter. “I heard you saved the wedding.”
“Polly’s putting the finishing touches on it. She deserves all the credit.”
“So you’re leaving her with the last-minute details and tomorrow’s coordination scramble, huh?” Go figure that Levi would see what Nick was trying to studiously ignore, and then bring it up.
Levi was the eldest and most responsible of the Wylder brothers, and had stayed on the ranch with Myles instead of leaving like Cole, Brant and Ryan had. But he’d soon be dealing with all four of his brothers and having to learn how to share his pie. It wouldn’t be easy, but if anyone could figure it out, it was Levi.
“She’s got everything under control,” Nick said as he reached the front door.
“Hey,” Levi called, causing him to look back over his shoulder. “I’m sorry for the way my dad ousted you.”
“It’s nothing for you to be sorry about,” Nick said awkwardly, turning to face him again.
“If you want to return after the wedding, my dad won’t be there. He’ll be in town with Sophia. Well, after the honeymoon.”
Nick pondered whether he wanted to go back, whether there was even room for him. “Did you get ahold of Cole?”
Levi gave one small shake of his head, discarding the topic of the brother hardly anyone had seen for almost five years. There was definitely some bad blood there, but Nick had never figured out the root cause. “It’s always good to have another guy on deck who knows where everything is, and how the ranch should be run.”
“You’re not changing things?” Nick asked in surprise. Somehow, without really noticing, he’d made his way to the kitchen counter and accepted the beer he’d abandoned. His bag was still over his shoulder, as though he was undecided, as he took a sip of the cold brew.
“I’m sure some things will be tweaked and updated, but overall, the way it’s been working is working.” Levi tipped his can toward Nick’s.
“Here’s to that,” Nick said, knocking his can gently against his cousin’s. He let his bag slide off his shoulder and onto the floor. Ralph lay down beside it, eyebrows up and chin on his paws as he watched his owner.
“So tell me about Polly,” Levi said, leaning one hip against the counter.
“Nothing to tell.”
“Which tells me there is plenty.” Levi gave him an annoyingly knowing smile.
“Plenty not to say.”
“You always had this fantasy image of her.”
“Nope. We’re not talking about Polly.”
“I take it you found out she’s a real human being with flaws and annoying quirks like calling you on your crap?”
Nick finished his beer and crushed the can in his fist. He picked up his bag and truck keys before setting them down again, realizing he’d fallen for Levi’s trap. He was stuck.
“She hooked you, didn’t she?” Levi mused.
“Yeah, but she also threw me back.”
And that fact was going to take him a long time to get over.
Chapter 9
The spools of ribbon had arrived and she had cases of mason jars from the hardware store. It was time to get decorating, but she needed help. Nick hadn’t returned, however, and he seemed to be ignoring her texts.
It was easy to believe that him seeing her former persona had been a deal breaker.
If she managed to get hold of him, she’d suck it up, put their differences aside and work. She’d pretended to be friends with Sasha for years, so could do the same with Nick even though it made her heart ache.
Frustrated when he ignored her fifth text, she marched over to his cottage and knocked on the door, noticing that several new pickup trucks and rentals were littering the seashell driveway. The cousins had arrived. No wonder he wasn’t helping her; it was party time.
The door swung open and Levi beamed at her, saying, “Polly! You look exactly the same.”
No, she didn’t. She looked fatter. Angrier. More jaded. She was nothing like the person he’d met over twenty years ago, and Nick could personally vouch for that, couldn’t he?
Levi swung his foot to the right, pushing a large duffel bag aside. Nick’s bag. Her eyes tracked upward, locking on Nick, who was leaning against the kitchen counter, arms crossed, surrounded by cousins who all had a beer in their hands.
“You’re leaving?” she asked.
“Thinking about it,” he said solemnly, then told his dog to stay as he took a step toward her.
“Hey, Polly.” A few of Levi’s brothers waved and she gave them a polite smile, hating that she seemed to be flouncing in with drama as her sidekick.
She crossed her own arms to hold her emotions at bay. “I thought we were working on finishing this wedding. For Roy.” She felt as though Nick was crushing every hope he had given her. Things got bumpy so he was bailing on her, on his family—everything. She could hardly believe it.
No, she had believed it. She’d believed she mattered. That he cared and was someone solid she could depend upon.
Chuck had felt right, too. He’d seemed like the ticket to where she wanted to go. And this three-day jaunt with Nick had been the same.
Standing awkwardly in the doorway as she was, it became obvious that this wasn’t what she
needed. Nick wouldn’t take her where she wanted to be. The vacation was over for him, and so was any love she’d thought she’d felt.
“You don’t need a cowboy messing up your plans and ideas,” he said. “I’m sure you’ve got this ‘total nightmare’ under control.”
The air quotes around the words she’d used to convince Sasha to pity her and help them were like a slap. She’d turned into her old self to save his uncle’s wedding and Nick was holding that against her.
She blinked back tears, but raised her chin high as she said in a voice trembling with rage, “Don’t worry about it. I’ll continue on, in my messed-up way, trying to show Roy I appreciate all he did for me.”
Well, that was that. Nick had snarkily quoted Polly, and she’d quoted him right back. It had been a quick and effective verbal sword fight.
Closure.
Never revisit an old relationship.
Nick picked up his bag and Ralph stood, coming to him. Nick had stopped after the first beer, even when Myles and Ryan arrived and tried to egg him into having one more with them.
“Good luck,” he said to the boys. “Ralphie, come.”
Levi just shook his head. “You’re actually going to leave. You’re going to leave her with the rest of the wedding stuff. The wedding for your uncle. The man who, only days ago, told you to look outside of yourself. You’re a crappy listener, man.”
“Thanks for the lecture.” He stood by the door. “Didn’t need it.”
“I stood up for you, but maybe Dad was right.” Levi came over and pushed at Nick’s chest. “Look at you. You don’t even feel good about this. But things didn’t go exactly like you fantasized so you’re going to cut bait. You’re taking off back to Texas where you’ll be alone forever. How’s that feel?”
“She doesn’t need me. She used to do all this stuff back home when she was a trophy wife.” She’d lit up at the list of tasks. Pushed to make things perfect instead of being happy with “good enough.” She’d come alive, because doing pretty and fake things was in her wheelhouse. It wasn’t as though she believed in true love and happy endings. She’d put her heart and soul into saving the wedding because it was a chance to make sure it was perfect and would reflect well on her.
She’d claimed they were creating a day to remember, and a day to set the tone for the rest of Roy and Sophia’s days as a couple.
But what did that mean? That she believed in love, but not for herself, because she was too afraid of letting go? That doing so would come back and bite her in the butt?
“She didn’t look like a trophy wife to me,” Ryan said, breaking into Nick’s thoughts.
Nick shook his head. It didn’t matter that she could dress down and fool everyone. He’d seen it. She’d acted like a socialite, showing him that they truly lived in two separate worlds and that she had no intention of leaving hers.
“She looked kind of like someone who puts up with his crap when she shouldn’t,” Myles mumbled to Ryan. The two were opposites—Myles a football player, Ryan more the analyst. But they were the closest of all the boys and made a good team.
“Actually,” Nick said with a laugh, so his cousins would know their licks weren’t striking where they thought they should, “she told me to take a hike.”
“She’s a smart one then.” Ryan smirked. “Maybe I should hit on her and see where it goes.”
Nick considered verbally knocking Ryan down a peg, but knew Myles would step in and threaten to make it physical. A fight right now might feel good, though.
“I can see you thinking,” Levi said.
“Don’t go all touchy-feely on me,” Nick warned. “That’s Brant’s role.”
“He hasn’t arrived yet, so I’ve got to step in. That’s what family does.”
“Look,” Nick said impatiently, “Polly and I aren’t a good match.”
“Aw, cut the crap. I saw the way the two of you look at each other. You’re both so full of hurt you could fill a pickup truck.” Levi paused, changing his tone to one less confrontational. “You’ve been comparing every woman to her for the past twenty years. And now you’re just going to let her go because she hurt your pride or something?”
“She showed me there’s no room for a man like me in her life.” Nick shifted from foot to foot, trying to find something concrete he could hang his argument on if Levi pressed the subject. He didn’t know why he didn’t just leave. Possibly a part of him wanted to hash this out, make sense of it.
He’d been so certain she’d felt the same things he had. She’d even asked him to move to Canada, before catching herself and blowing it off. Why didn’t the fact that she smiled and laughed around him count for anything in her world? Why did she have to have so much control over everything? He’d seen the way she wanted to give in, and yet she didn’t.
Because she was scared of love. Scared of letting go. He knew that. She had given her trust to a man who had abused it, then left her poor and alone.
And what had Nick done? Pushed her. Tried to move things as fast as he wanted, not as slow as she needed.
He had pushed every fear button she had.
What a fool. He wasn’t acting any better than her ex-husband had.
Ex-husband.
There had been something about that call with Sasha, too, that had made Polly shutter her windows and lock her doors. Something about a wedding Polly hadn’t heard about.
In his mind he saw her close her fist, saw the raw, gutted pain in her eyes.
Just days ago she’d said how ticked off she’d be if her ex suddenly ran off to get remarried.
Was the wedding Chuck’s?
She hadn’t wanted to talk about the call. Was that because the knowledge that her ex was moving on was one of those mortal wounds where you figured it was time to walk off into the woods to die alone?
Planning Roy’s wedding had dragged up old memories for her and Nick hadn’t been very sensitive to that, had he? She just seemed so tough and resilient. But he’d noted on the first night that she had a side to her that was more fragile now.
And so what had he done? Made it all about himself and blasted ahead without a thought. Just like Roy had said when he’d fired him.
Now Polly had fired him from her life for the same reason.
He winced at his silent cousins. “I screwed up.”
Levi smiled and tipped his beer can in Nick’s direction. “That was faster than I thought it’d be.” He came over and clapped his shoulder. “Since she isn’t taking the next plane out of town, I guess you don’t have to run off to the airport to save your relationship. Just walk a few feet across the beach.”
“The sand’s hot. Wear some shoes,” Ryan suggested, looking up from his phone. “Or cowboy boots. Those are beach ready.” He smirked at Nick’s jeans and boots.
“Go get the girl,” Levi said, opening the door for him.
Nick hesitated. How was he going to do that?
“Help her with the wedding,” Levi said slowly.
Nick scowled at his cousin and stormed onto the front porch, dog in tow.
He still wasn’t sure he had what Polly needed. Not only because he couldn’t make fancy flower arrangements, but also because he wasn’t very good at apologizing.
Maybe it was time to learn.
Polly sniffed back the tears that stubbornly continued to fall as she pulled reams of ribbon from their spools. She didn’t have scissors. She didn’t have a measuring tape. She didn’t have glue. She didn’t have anything she needed other than jars and what felt like enough ribbon to circumnavigate the planet. If she was going to ensure that Roy and Sophia had the beautifully decorated happily ever after that was so obviously not in store for herself, she was going to have to deal with her puffy red eyes and leave the cottage.
They were remarrying.
Taking another go at love.
Just like Chuck.
It was as if marriage to Polly had been nothing more than a slow zone on Chuck’s route through life. Now he was
in the fast lane and moving on, full speed ahead.
And so was Nick.
He hadn’t wanted to slow his pace long enough to allow her to catch up.
She should be happy. At least she knew that she wasn’t important enough, and that he was going to leave if he didn’t get his way. It was just like when they were teenagers—if he couldn’t badger her into doing what he wanted, he left her behind.
Her fear of him taking off had forced her to dig deep on more than one occasion. She’d faced her terror when learning to surf because he hadn’t let her back down. Out in the waves, her fear had faded after the first time she got knocked off her board, leaving her exhilarated and liberated. She’d survived! With him by her side, she’d discovered that a lot of her fears weren’t worth keeping.
But this? This was different. It wasn’t a fear she could push aside, like aiming a surfboard into the rolling waves.
Nick had proved he wasn’t the kind of guy who would stick around when he didn’t get his way. He wouldn’t stand firm and fight for love, no matter the attraction that flared between them.
What had she been thinking? The misery and ache in her chest wasn’t a broken heart. It was because she’d been stupid and fallen for the fantasy once again, and she hated herself for it.
She looked at her phone, longing to spill it all to Daphne. But what could she say without sounding like a hopeful schoolgirl who’d just faced the fallout from her first crush? Her friend had told her to have a fling—and not a relationship—for a reason.
She was twice a fool.
Polly threw another spool of ribbon across the cottage, bouncing it off the front door, then groaned and fell back in her chair. What was she going to do? When would she ever grow up and figure this stuff out?
She glanced over at her career and life workbooks, pulling one from the stack. This one boasted that through a series of personality tests it would match you to “your perfect dream career that would leave you satisfied, happy and fulfilled.”
She wondered if a career in the financial sector would come up. Wedding planning? She let out a dry chortle. Not on her life. It would always remind her of her own failed marriage, and Nick. Maybe a professional fund-raiser? An actress for the way she’d successfully pretended to be somebody she wasn’t for so many years?
