In Love With A Cowboy (BWWM Romance) (9 page)

“Tanner,” I said, not sure why I called him back. But he ignored me, his broad back stiff, and the door slammed shut behind him. I stood in the passage, the air sucked out of me, and I felt tiny hairline cracks run across my body. I’d steeled myself before I’d told him no. I’d been strong before.

But it turned out that I couldn’t do it, not with him. Not this time. I was falling apart. I could feel myself crumble. I walked to the cabinet in the dining room and found a bottle of wine that had dust on the label. I pulled out the cork and walked to the kitchen with it.

Before I’d gotten to the kitchen to find a glass I already chugged some down, so I sat down at the kitchen table with the bottle alone, and opened myself up to the escape alcohol held for me.

Chapter 8 - Tanner

I stood outside her house, clenching and unclenching my fists. I was furious. I tried to calm down, but I felt like hitting something, and breaking it. I wanted to take my rage out on something before I exploded. My skin felt hot and I started walking away from the house, unable to stand still.

I’d known that telling her wouldn’t go down well. What did I expect? I should have told her from the start. Would it have made that much of a difference? Yeah, it would have. She wouldn’t have slept with me.

And to be honest, I was glad that she had. Maybe it was selfish, but that was one of the best nights I’d ever had, and if I had the chance to do it all over again, I would have done exactly the same thing.

Except now I didn’t have her. She’d kicked me out like a dog. And I hadn’t exactly lied to her. I just hadn’t told her the truth.

What did Dean have that I didn’t? How had he managed to hold on to a woman like her for two years when she’d kicked me out of her house in less than a few weeks? She’d called me back when I’d left. I could still hear her voice, lilting slightly at the end with a Texan accent, so soft and gentle like a caress. And I’d ignored her, because I was angry. I had been embarrassed and angry and ashamed and irritated all at the same time. I should have told her, yes. I knew I was wrong. But what about what it felt like around her? Surely she felt the same? Did she really think it was better just to push me away?

Apparently she did think that. I stopped and looked over my shoulder at her house, smaller now in the distance. Keisha’s window had a very soft glow in it from her nightlight. All the other lights were off except the one in the kitchen. That was where Jada was now. I could walk in there and tell her how I felt. That I wanted her in my life. That I liked… loved her. Was it possible this quick?

I knew I’d known Nicole for months and what I felt for her, even when we were doing it, was nothing close to what I felt for Jada. I could just sit on opposite ends of the dining table and talk to her all night. We didn’t even have to have sex. She was beautiful inside and out, and she talked about things that were important to her in such a way that they became important to me too.

A truck drove past and it looked a lot like Dean’s truck. It was swerving slightly, like the driver was drunk. Definitely Dean, then.

He was in her life. He was Keisha’s father. How could he be so stupid? How could he let a girl get pregnant and then drink himself into a stupor instead of being the man they both needed him to be?

Why didn’t Jada want me to be that man?

I kicked a rock and it shot up, hitting the wall of a house, only inches away from the window. A light went on and I ran and hid in the shadows. The curtains moved, and then the light went off again.

Great. I was hiding in the dark like a teenager. I was kicking rocks, having a little temper tantrum, because I didn’t get what I wanted.

What did I want?

I wanted her. It wasn’t a hard question to answer. I could take them away to Houston with me, get Keisha into a good school. Jada could open her café there, and she wouldn’t have to worry about money or finding time to finish her degree.

I nodded, confirming it to myself. Dean didn’t have to be a problem. I could take them away, and he could come and see Keisha if he really wanted.

I didn’t even know if that was something he would want. From what I’d heard Jada say, and the way he spoke about Keisha, I got the feeling that he didn’t really want this kind of responsibility in his life. He didn’t want a reason to have to be sober. I could fix that for him.

I turned around and walked back to the house. The front room was dark. I knocked on the door once and let myself into the house. The kitchen light bled down the passage, giving it a bit of light. I walked to the kitchen and took a deep breath, ready to tell the woman of my dreams what I felt for her.

Only the woman of my dreams wasn’t alone. She was up against the wall, and Dean had her arms pinned to either side of her, kissing her.

“You son of a bitch!” I cried out and lunged for him, tackling him waist high. We tumbled to the floor. I had the upper hand because I’d caught him off guard. I could smell the brandy on him. I climbed on top of him and hit him in the face again and again.

“Tanner, don’t,” Jada was sobbing, trying to pull me off him. Her hands were small on my shoulder, nails digging in, but I shrugged her off and grabbed Dean’s collar, lifting his face to mine. His nose was bleeding and it spread across his chin.

“Mommy?” Keisha’s voice sounded somewhere deeper into the house. Jada gasped and ran out of the room. I yanked Dean to his feet and slammed him into the same wall he’d been kissing Jada against.

“You rotten son of a bitch,” I sneered in his face. His eyes were half-shut but he grinned at me.

“What’s wrong, little brother? Jealous?”

“You touch her again and I’ll kill you,” I said, and at that moment I meant it. But Dean didn’t look scared. In fact, he looked very drunk. I let go of him and he sank to the floor. I walked away, hands on my hips, trying to calm myself.

“What are you doing here?” I asked.

“What do you care?” Dean said and his words ran into each other. “You don’t care what I do with my life. You haven’t cared in years. All you know how to do is run away.”

“And look what I ran away from, Dean. You’re starting to act just like dad.”

That made him angry. He pushed himself off the floor and dived for me. I stepped aside and he tumbled to the ground. I knocked him with my knee so he would stay down.

“You have no right to her, Tan,” he said. He hadn’t used the childhood nickname in decades. It made me go cold.

“And what makes you think you have?”

“I pay child support. And the shop. And I’m the dad. I have every right to be here. And it’s not like she didn’t want me. She was throwing herself at me. It’s you she didn’t want.”

I grabbed his shirt and I was about to punch Dean again when I saw Jada in the doorway. Her lips were stained red. I noticed the wine bottle on the table, empty. Her eyes didn’t focus completely, and I realized she was drunk, too.

“I want you both to get out of my house, right now. You’re upsetting Keisha.”

“Aww, come on, baby. Let Daddy give her a kiss,” Dean slurred. I yanked him up and pushed him past Jada and toward the front door. When I shoved him outside he turned a circle.

“Whoo, it’s been a while since I used this door,” he said. He looked at me, his blue eyes mocking. “I usually just come in through the back. You know… easy access.”

I was about ready to kill him. But Jada cleared her throat behind me and I held it in.

“Go away, Dean,” she said in a voice I imagined her using on Keisha when she was naughty. Dean didn’t argue. Like a good little boy he listened and stumbled to his truck. I wanted to stop him from getting in, but his place was only a few houses down, and who was going to arrest the sheriff for drinking and driving?

“You too, Tanner. I want you out of here.”

“Why?” I asked, feeling like I’d been the one that had gotten beaten up. “Is it because you don’t like me? Or is it because you still love him?”

“Don’t do this,” she said. “I can’t do this tonight.”

“Will you tell me one thing?” I asked.

She looked at me for a long time before she finally nodded. I wondered if the wine had made it hard to process the question, or if she’d been deciding if she was willing to answer. I was too scared to find out the answer to that.

“Did you mean to kiss him?”

She sighed. “You know how alcohol is, Tanner. It makes you do stupid shit.”

“You’re not answering my question,” I said, but that alone made me believe that I already knew the answer. My voice was harder now, and she picked up on it too. She took a deep breath, like she was steeling herself.

“I’m not going to lie to you, Tanner. He didn’t force himself on me. I was drunk, and I was miserable, and he came in there drunker than I was. He kissed me, and I should have stopped him, but I didn’t. I kissed him back.”

I nodded and turned around. A pain wedged itself between my ribs like I’d been stabbed.

“Tanner?” Jada asked, and that one word sounded exactly the same as it had when I’d walked away the first time. And just like the first time, I ignored her and walked away. I couldn’t do this. I couldn’t do any of this. It was a repeat of the past, Dean getting the girl that had stolen my heart, and I was the one that was left picking up the pieces.

When I got back to the hotel room my phone rang. I answered it on the second ring.

“You’re up late,” my boss said.

“You know lawyers and overtime,” I said but I sounded deflated, even to myself.

“Well, I need you to sort out the paperwork tomorrow then you can come home. I called Mr. O’Brien myself and I believe I’ve… inspired him to get the work done quickly and efficiently.”

“Thank you, sir. I’d really like that.”

I hung up and sat down on the bed, my head in my hands. ‘Inspiring’ meant he’d scared him with some legal loophole. That was how we did it back in the city. But I was relieved. I could get out of here and leave this mess behind, go back to the life I had control over. Westham had the uncanny ability to rip me to pieces every time, whether it was after a lifetime or just a few weeks.

I was up before sunrise and by the time normal business hours rolled around I was dressed in my suit again. It felt strange on my skin now, like I’d grown out of it somehow. I walked to the law office. It was empty. There was no secretary, not even a temporary one, and Mr. O’Brien was nowhere to be found. If something like this happened at the offices back home, we would fire someone.

“Hello?” I called out.

“Just in the can, sonny,” Mr. O’Brien’s deep voice came muffled through the door to my left. I took a deep breath and steeled myself. This was unprofessional. Even in a personal setting it wasn’t what I would have allowed in my world, but this wasn’t my world. I was more aware of it now than ever. I felt the urge to check my phone, but she wouldn’t call. I knew she wouldn’t. And I didn’t want her to, I lied to myself.

The toilet flushed and a moment later Mr. O’Brien stepped out and closed the door. I eyed the door behind him. He wiped his hands on his pants and I tried to ignore it. The whole office felt shabby today.

“Have you had a chance to get those documents over to your secretary?” I asked. Mr. O’Brien sat down with a groan.

“Yes, yes, I have. She confirmed it’s all there and you’re ready to proceed, Mr. Williams. You were right.”

“I usually am, Mr. O’Brien. That’s what makes me so good at my job.”

Mr. O’Brien smiled at me in a way that didn’t make me feel like he was happy at all. I made to shake his hand, but though better of it thinking back to the bathroom he just got out of.

“My offices will be in touch,” I said politely and walked out. I walked to the Lazy Eye.

“Will you do me a favor?” I asked the lady behind the reception counter. “Could you book a rental car out to Houston?”

She looked at me like I was crazy.

“I’m not your secretary,” she said flatly.

“Oh, I know you aren’t, but I’ll pay you for your work, naturally. You just look… like the type of woman that can get things done around here. Smart and efficient.”

She didn’t look like either, but she blushed and nodded, hand already reaching for the phone. I would really have done my own dirty work, but I didn’t want to be nice. I didn’t want to be kind and generous. That just got me hurt, and I was over it. Delegating reminded me I was in charge, and if I was in charge, I could save myself.