Branded (12 page)

Then it hit me. Before she left.

“You did all the work. You should be proud of yourself. I just showed you some shortcuts.”

She took off her glasses and set them on the nightstand. “You did way more than that, but thank you. I survived the class, and the good grade will get me off probation before the new semester starts.”

She was babbling, adorably so, but she only did that when she was really nervous.

Was that what this was about? Was she upset about the end of all of this? I wasn’t super excited about it ending. It had to happen, but it was tough. Maybe she needed to talk about it, but I wasn’t good with that sort of thing. Feelings were not my bag. I was clueless when it came to what women needed in that department.

“What are you reading?” I pointed to the side table.

“I was reading Suzan-Lori Park’s play
Father Comes Home from the Wars
. She spoke at an event my first semester at school. She was talking about how sometimes the words just spill out of her. She’s written entire plays in a weekend, but then others took her a long time. I like that she’s kind of all over the place. Screenplays, novels, and plays. She’s not afraid to go there.”

“Does that happen to be part of the creative writing curriculum you’ve been looking at when you think no one is watching?” We’d talked a bit about what she wanted to do, and I felt like she needed to have an honest conversation with her grandparents.

Her eyes were downcast. “Yes. I figured I could at least take some of the classes as electives. And some can count as core curriculum. But I really am reading this play because I like her. She was a little bit crazy and fun, and so passionate. You could feel it when she was talking. And we got to hear her read—it was one of the best nights I had at school. I’ve been thinking about that a lot.”

Funny, most of my best nights had been frat parties. It seemed like a million years ago. “Makes sense that you felt a connection, since you write stories as well. I can write papers for school, but I’m not creative that way. I admire great writers.”

“Me, too. I’m not sure I have the right stuff to be a great writer, but I do love it. I did write a lot of stuff in high school. Dr. Hatcher made us keep a journal, and we had to write one slice-of-life story a week. It was good for me, kind of therapy in a way. That’s when I started to love writing.”

I took her hand and held it in mine. “If you love it so much, you should do it. Not as an elective, but as a profession.”

She snorted. “Have you met my grandfather? Oh my God. He would have a cow and a kitten if I told him I wanted to be writer. They don’t consider that sort of thing a real job. It’s not what he has planned for me. I remember when I was ten, I showed him my spiral book of poems. He was like, ‘that’s nice, Callie, but you need real work to fall back on.’ They love me, and I know they wouldn’t disown me or anything. But the idea of disappointing them… I couldn’t live with myself.”

I shrugged. “Seems to me that if you are passionate about it, they will come around. I mean, your grandma is an interior designer. That’s an artist who deals with design and color. So how is what you want to do any different?”

“You don’t understand. When my parents died… My grandparents don’t have anyone else. It’s me. My grandpa had been grooming me to take over for him since I moved in ten years ago.”

“I get family responsibilities. But if you hate it so much, you’re just going to end up resenting them and the business. How can you be successful that way?”

She rolled her eyes. “And you love being a ranch foreman? You know better than anyone that sometimes you gotta do what you gotta do.”

I closed her laptop and pulled her into my lap where she belonged. “My situation is temporary. Uncle Charlie will be back, and then I’m heading back to school.”

“You are?”

“Yep. I made enough this summer to get a place for Addy and me for the next year. Or if she wants to stay here… It’ll be hard for me, but Charlie’s a tough old dude. He’s as good a substitute dad as I can be. I wasn’t planning on her making so many friends. I’m worried she won’t want to move to Denton with me when I go.”

“Wow. So you’re really doing it.”

“Yep. But what you’re talking about doing is a lifetime thing. That’s a much bigger choice. Your career. That isn’t a decision someone else should be making for you. What I’m doing is to help my family out, but there’s a light at the end of the tunnel.”

“I hear what you’re saying, but I can do this. I can write on the side and do business full time.”

There was no way I was going to win the argument. “You’re stubborn. Beautiful, but stubborn.”

She brushed her fingers across my chin. “You think I’m beautiful?”

“You know I do.”

She gave him one of her shy smiles. “Did you lock the door when you came in?”

“Yep,” I said, nuzzling her ear.

“Make love to me, Cole.”

“With pleasure, Princess.”

Chapter Sixteen

“Bethany, is it possible to die of heartache?” I tossed the last of my clothes into my suitcase. Cole hadn’t even flinched the night before when I’d told him I was leaving.

“I don’t know, sweetcakes. I’ve never been in love,” she said. I had her on speaker. She was coming in on a flight in a few hours, but I needed advice. I had to end this thing with Cole before she arrived. I loved her, but she couldn’t keep a secret. And if she saw us together, she would know.

“I’m not in love,” I said, frustrated as I sat on my suitcase to close it.

“Uh-huh. If you say so. But I’m pretty sure if your heart actually hurts, you either need to cut back on the Twinkies and pizza, or you’re in love. But like I said, I’m no expert.”

She was the second person in two days to tell me this. But I had no point of reference. I mean, I loved my family. But I’d never been in a romantic kind of love, with the exception of a short period of time when I was younger and didn’t know Chris Hemsworth was married with kids. He’d been just Thor to me.

“So you’ve fallen for the first guy who popped your cherry. I’m sure you’re not the first.”

“He didn’t pop my cherry. That happened—never mind. What time does your flight get here?”

“Sevenish. Have one of those hunky ranch hands pick me up. I could do with a bit of fun. And we’re going out tonight. No excuses. You can tell lover boy good-bye later. Tonight, it’s me and you, girlfriend.”

My phone pinged with a text from Cole.
Need to see you.

“I gotta go. I’ll see you tonight.”

“Toodles,” she said before the line went dead.

Shit.
My gut was churning like I wanted to throw up. But I had to do this.

No time like the present.

The sun was blazing hot. Even in the shade of the golf cart, I was a sweaty mess by the time I made it down to the barn.

I felt sick and my head hurt.
Be brave
.

Cole was sitting on the corral fence while Addy was walking the colt around the corral with a halter. She was talking to her brother.

He glanced at me, and his smile turned into a frown.

I’m just so awesome at hiding my feelings.

“Ads, why don’t you go brush him down? And feed him.”

“Okay. Hey, Callie. Are you excited about your trip? Europe, that’s so, like, awesome.”

Out of the mouths of babes. “Yep. It’s awesome.” I tried to keep my voice light, but it wasn’t easy. She gave me a funny look but headed into the barn.

“You wanted to see me?” My voice cracked on the “me.”

Keep it together. Keep it together.

“I have something for you. A going-away present.”

This time it was me who frowned. “You shouldn’t have gotten me anything.”

“I wanted to. This summer. It’s been good, Callie. It makes me wonder—ah, hell. I’m not good with words.”

He shoved the box toward me.

I couldn’t open it. Whatever was in there would make it even harder for me to say what I had to today. It would wrap him around my heart even more.

“Maybe.” He coughed. “Maybe it doesn’t have to end with you going to Europe. I mean, we both have school. But people make long-distance stuff work all the time.”

“I can’t take this.” I handed the box back to him unopened. “And you’re wrong. It would never work. I’m sorry if I made you think I wanted more. I was tired the other night.”

“So, you don’t want to try?”

“You know better than anyone that I’ve really got to focus on school. I don’t need any distractions.”

“And that’s what I’d be?” He cocked his head as if he were trying to figure me out.

My voice was raw. My throat hurt. “Yes. It’s too much,” I said. “I mean, I appreciate the thought, but it would be wrong for me to take a gift from you now.”

The pain in his eyes was enough to rip me apart. Bile rose in my throat. Hurting him was the only way I could protect him. He and Addy meant everything to me. There’s no way I would let anyone hurt them. It might break me, but if I really cared, I had to be strong. And I cared so very much for both of them.

“It’s sweet, really. But I can’t take it. Our time is almost up and— Well, there’s just no easy way to say this.” I held out my hand. “I think it’s best if we just say good-bye now.”

“You want me to fucking shake your hand?”

I nodded.

“So this is it? You’re ready for this to be over?” His voice was low and dangerous.

“Yep. I’m calling it quits on the contract. It’s been—” Emotion clogged my throat. I coughed to cover. “Fun.”

He looked like he was about to reach out to me, but I saw some of the other ranch hands heading toward the corral.

I jumped down off the fence, and he followed me. “Well, thanks for everything.”

“Okay. Is there some reason I can’t see you tonight? You have three more days before you leave.”

“I’m seeing friends tonight. Kind of a date. Tonight.”

Cole took a step back. This was coming out of the blue for him. He just stared at me.

I’m a terrible, horrible human being. Like the worst. It was necessary. He was smart—he wouldn’t let go. He’d figure it out if I didn’t do my best to show him it was really over.

“Yeah. Sorry. After the other night, when you told me I should go with James to the concert, it hit me, that even though you and I have become friends, you’re right. We can never have more. We’re two different people. It’s still really hot between us, and maybe we should part while it’s good, you know. No harm done, right?”

Sure. If you didn’t count my heart ripping in two.

“Whatever you say, Princess. Have a nice life.”

Then he turned and walked toward the barn. Really? That was it? My hands started shaking, and I wanted to run after him.

“Cole?”

He paused but didn’t turn back around. “I need to get back to my job. Some of us have to work for a living.”

Then he was in the barn, and I was standing next to the corral an emotional mess. I didn’t even remember getting back in the golf cart.

It’s for the best. It’s for the best.

Just like that. Yeah. Maybe it was cruel for me to do it the way I did, but I’d thought he’d at least fight back. At least ask me why? But, nothing.

I had to be delusional. For him, maybe it really was just sex. If he cared, he wouldn’t have walked away so easily. He wanted me, was possessive in a way, but there was no long-term in his world. That’s why we had the contract. And I’d just ended it.

And what the fuck was wrong with me? This is what needed to happen. It was safer for him and Addy.

But he’d left. Just left.

Yeah, after you refused his gift and told him thanks but no thanks. Why wouldn’t he?

Tears burned, and I gulped air. I ran up to my room and shut the door. Two steps inside, I hit my knees.

It was over.

Had to be this way. Yes, it cratered me that he could just be done. But no one could hurt him or Addy. I’d kept my end of the bargain. Whatever James thought he had on me, he wouldn’t be able to use.

I’d done the right thing. So why did it hurt so frigging bad?

Because part of your soul just walked away like it didn’t matter.

Like you didn’t matter.

I gulped for more air. My throat burned with bile. This was it. I was actually walking away from something that had been one of the most crazy, wonderful experiences of my life. It hurt deep in my gut where my insides twisted into horrible knots of pain.

My phone dinged.
Shopping. Booze,
Bethany texted.
My new but recently ex asshat summer boyfriend just broke up with me. Said he’s not the commitment type. Considering what I just found online, he’s right. Tonight, you’re helping me over the worst breakup ever.

No. Partying would be the worst. The only thing I wanted to do was crawl in bed in the fetal position and cry. Quite possibly for days.

I’ll be there in four hours. Can’t wait.

God. I had to make it through tonight. Then tomorrow would be better. There was that old saying about time healing wounds. My heart was a twisted mess. It was going to take a lot of time.

By the time she arrived, I’d cried enough that I was spent. I pulled myself together and put on my game face, as she liked to say.

A few hours later, Bethany was curled up on the couch in the family room staring at her phone. When she glanced up, there were tears in her eyes.

“He doesn’t deserve you,” I said. “You are awesomesauce.”

If only I could convince myself of the same thing. Cole didn’t deserve me if he could walk away that easily. I had to keep telling myself that. And as much as it hurt for me to push him away, he’d let me. There hadn’t been much of a fight. I wasn’t into playing games, but I think a small part of me had expected him to say something.

But he hadn’t.

Bethany jumped up and ran into my open arms. “Men are stupid,” she said on a blubbery sigh.

Tears clogged my throat. “Yep,” I managed. I cleared the emotion from my throat. “I hate seeing you so sad.”

“I know. I don’t think I’ve ever let a guy get to me like this. He seemed so solid. Right up until the skank he was seeing behind my back posted photos on Instagram of them at a party. Ugh. I’m an idiot.”

“Nope. The heart just can’t help falling for the wrong people sometimes.” God, I should just have this talk with myself.

“So, shopping and drinking therapy. You cool with that?”

You have no idea.
“Well, there’s not much in the way of shops open this late here. Amarillo kind of closes up the boutiques around six. But, yes, ma’am, I’m ready to get my drink on. I’ll see if one of the ranch hands”—one who was not named Cole—“can take us into town. Then we don’t have to worry about driving home.” I took a deep breath, forcing myself to feel bolder than I did. My friend needed me. Didn’t matter what else was going on with me. I would be there for her.

…

Five hours later, we’d helped rebuild the economy with our American Express cards, picking up some last-minute stuff we needed for the trip, then we’d eaten a really great dinner.

We were four shots into getting our drink on at MC’s pub. “We don’t need men,” Bethany slurred a bit. “We’ve got each other.”

We tapped glasses and the tequila burned as it slid down my throat. I didn’t even bother with the lime. “That’s right. Girl power.” I said the words, but I was sad. At least the tequila was numbing that part that wanted to break down in tears. So I ordered more.

“Oh, Saint Cuervo, you are a friend of mine,” Bethany sang.

“Preach it, sister,” I said as I threw back the sixth shot. “I like to drink you with a little salt and lime.”

I heard some people laughing around us, and I threw up my hand. “Whoohooo,
party
!”

Bethany high-fived me. My phone vibrated in my pocket. I picked it up and set it on the table.

“Booty call?” Bethany asked.

I gave a ladylike snort. Then I tried to focus on the text, but it was blurry. I brought it closer and saw it was from Cole.
Where are you? We need to talk.

I rolled my eyes. “Oh,
now
he wants to talk.” I nearly slid off my stool. “Shit.” I started laugh.

“Who?”

That’s when I realized I’d said it out loud. “Friend of mine. No biggie.”

I typed,
Nah. I’m good.
At least I thought that was what it said.

The phone vibrated again.
Are you drunk? Where are you???

Jesus. How did he know? When my eyes focused, I realized I’d sent a bunch of gibberish. Didn’t matter. He thought I was out on a hot date, and he was going all caveman again. He didn’t want me, not really. But he didn’t want some other dude touching me.

I swear to fuck, tell me where you are right now. If he takes advantage or hurts you, I will rip him apart.

I snorted. And typed,
Fuck off.
Yes, it was bitchy. But this was what was best for both of us. He didn’t want me, and I couldn’t handle seeing him again knowing how little I mattered to him. In fact, I was going to do my best to never see him again. And there was another reason. Oh, yes, if anyone ever found out about this, he’d be toast. And his poor little sister. My eyes teared up.

Shit, I had to get away from him.

“We should leave early for Paris,” I said. “Like tonight.”

Bethany blew out a breath. “I don’t think I can pack drunk,” she slurred.

“Boo, you’re already packed.”

Then we started laughing hysterically.

“Can I buy you ladies a drink?” a big guy dressed in jeans and a leather jacket asked. He looked like that guy from
Pawn Stars
and was old enough to be my dad.

“We don’t do dudes, right, babe?” Bethany wrapped her arms around me.

“What she said,” I slurred.

The guy frowned but moved on.

We both giggled. “Men are so dumb. Maybe we should become lesbians. Did I tell you about that time I kissed Ella at that Sigma party? On a dare. Girls really do have softer lips. Of course, then I went and threw up in the pool. But I don’t think it was because I kissed her. But the idea of having to hump someone to get off just doesn’t do it for me. Or having to tongue someone’s va-ja-jay. Yuck.” That last part came out kind of loud.

There was more laughter around us.

“Gross,” I said.

“Right?” she said. “I guess lesbians are out.” She sighed dramatically and then sat up straight. “Oh my God. This is our song. Remember, last day of school?”

She grabbed my hand, and before I knew it, I was climbing up on the bar with her. We lost ourselves to the beat.

“Ladies,” the bartender was saying something. But the music was so loud I couldn’t hear him. The beat of the music was thrumming through me, and my hips moved of their own volition. My arms swayed above my head, and it felt good and so free, and then someone was tugging on my leg.

“Ma’am, I’m going to have to ask you to come down from there.”

I glanced down. It was cop.

“Who the fuck called the cops? We’re just dancing.”

“Hey, stop touching me,” Bethany complained. Another officer was reaching up trying to grab her hand.