Desire at Roosevelt Ranch

by Faber, Elise

  Justin crossed his arms, eyes not hard exactly, but something inside of them had shifted. He didn’t believe Rex had changed, and he probably never would. This was all just a fucking waste of his time. He’d never find his place in this family again. Hell, he wasn’t even convinced that he actually did deserve a spot. He’d pissed on that honor plenty of times in the past.

  “What are you doing here?” Justin asked before his voice softened. “What did you expect to find?”

  “Not to fall in love,” he snapped. He sure as shit hadn’t anticipated that curve ball.

  Justin’s eyes widened. “Did you say—?”

  “No.”

  But it wasn’t in response to his brother.

  Tilly stood in the doorway.

  Horror coursed through him. She’d heard him say he loved her, and he hadn’t made it special. Fuck. She deserved special.

  “I’m sorry,” he began, walking toward her.

  “No.” She put up a hand, and he stopped.

  “That’s twice you said that,” he murmured. “No, what?” To the apology? To the sentiment itself? To him?

  “You can’t mean it,” she said, face pale and eyes glittering with tears. “I thought we were . . . different. You made me hope—” She choked on a sob.

  “I’m sorry,” he said again, pulling her into her arms. “I didn’t mean for you to overhear that. I was going to tell you another way.”

  Her spine went ramrod stiff, and she shoved him hard enough that he stumbled back a step. “Of course, you were.”

  “Tilly—”

  She scooted away, backing toward the door. “J-just stay away from me, Rex Roosevelt. Stay the fuck away.”

  Familiar ice coated his spine, numbed him from the inside out. Nothing. He was better off if he felt nothing. Wrong. This is wrong to stay away. But before he could grasp fully on to the thought, Tilly was gone, and he was standing in the kitchen with his brother’s family staring at him incredulously.

  Kel and Justin both spoke at once.

  It was Justin’s words that struck home.

  “See?” he said. “Tilly doesn’t want this.”

  Rex was too gutted to see Kelly smack him, to watch her rise on tiptoe and whisper in his brother’s ear. Too devastated to see Justin’s face pale.

  He left.

  It was better that way.

  For everyone.

  Twenty

  Tilly

  The letter was under her mat the next morning.

  I’m sorry you feel that way. I’d bought this for you before you changed your before things between us changed. Don’t say no until you go and see it.

  -R

  Below that was an address.

  “Shit,” she muttered, recognizing it.

  Absolutely no way was she going there, even if it was just down the street from Henry’s Diner. With the way things were going, it was probably an empty room full of the candles she’d made.

  Sighing, she pushed through into the diner, only to stop short.

  Henry was at the hostess stand, arms crossed. “What are you doing here, Tilly?”

  Her stomach clenched. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, you’re not on shift today,” he said, dropping his arms to rearrange the stack of menus behind the stand.

  “Oh, yeah,” she said, remembering he’d given her the morning off after she’d worked late the previous night. Before she’d finished up a few minutes early and had headed to the ranch to surprise Rex. Before she’d had her heart broken again because she was an idiot who’d fallen for the wrong person hook, line, and sinker. “I figured I’d come anyway. I could use the—”

  She stopped herself from finishing that sentence because she didn’t really need the money anymore. The shop had given her a cushion. She’d be able to pay off the outstanding bills and could easily live on her waitressing salary without the added pressure of the medical debts.

  Thanks to Rex.

  Her eyes burned.

  “I’m sure Bella can use prep help.”

  Henry shook his head. “No, kiddo,” he said softly. “You’ve been working too hard for too long. I missed it before, but you need some time off to reset.”

  “I’m not a kid,” she muttered.

  He touched her arm. “I know that’s not fair to think of you that way after everything you’ve been through, but you’ve been through so much. Plus, now you’ve got Rex, and it’s new and fresh and you seem happy with him.” A nudge toward the door. “You should go enjoy yourself.” A beat. “With him.”

  And her heart shattered a little more.

  Tilly knew she was moments away from bursting into tears and so she kept her gaze down, nodded, and slipped outside the door, but when she made it to her car, it wouldn’t start.

  “Perfect,” she said, losing her battle with the tears. They streamed down her cheeks, dripped off her jaw, turning the gray of her seat black.

  She tried the key again and nothing.

  “Fuck!” she said, suddenly so damned furious and upset and . . . hurt.

  Alone again, heart shredded.

  P.A.T.H.E.T.I.C.

  She was absolutely—

  No.

  Not anymore. Not again. She wasn’t weak or fragile or freaking pathetic. Maybe she’d been deceived and naïve, falling for the wrong man in too short of a time, but also . . . maybe she didn’t have to let this destroy her.

  She pulled the handle to pop the hood, then slipped from her car and spent a few minutes staring at the respective parts.

  But she hadn’t seen what Rex had done to get it started and so she had to resort to calling Dale. He answered on the first ring and promised to come check it out after he got his morning appointments checked in and underway.

  Until then, she would wait.

  Fifteen minutes later, she was going stir crazy.

  She was up to date on all her shows, none of her favorite YouTubers had released videos, and was out of energy in the one game she played on her phone. And Rex’s note kept staring at her from the passenger’s seat.

  Should she just go and see?

  If it was candles, it would serve him right if she resold them.

  Maybe she should—

  “No, you will not, Tilly Conner,” she told herself firmly. “Absolutely not.

  But when another half hour passed and Dale still hadn’t come, she found herself getting out of the car to “stretch her legs.” Or at least that was the convenient lie she told herself. Couldn’t let those quads tighten up, might get sore and not be able to—

  She cut the lie off there and walked down to the end of the block.

  To the address on the note.

  Brown paper covered the windows, and she sighed at finding the For Rent sign gone. It wasn’t a surprise that someone had rented the space. Darlington’s downtown was a popular destination for both locals and tourists alike, so empty storefronts didn’t stay empty for long.

  Tilly had just been eyeing this one because it was perfect. It had been a coffee shop and bookstore before, the walls lined with gorgeous oak shelves, the old worn tables left behind. She’d been able to picture her products on those shelves, candles on one wall, toiletries on other, maybe even makeup or a hairstylist who could come in on special days and give customers a new look—

  Sigh.

  It wasn’t to be.

  She’d keep inching her way into success. She’d keep waitressing and working her Etsy shop and craft fairs and—

  One day everything would be fine.

  See? She could be heartbroken and healthy.

  Tilly walked past the front doors and rounded the building. Rex had said he was in the apartment above the store, and she thought the entrance was along the alleyway. It took a couple of tries to find the right door, but eventually she found one that was unlocked—well, slightly propped open with a thin sliver of wood. She pulled it wide, saw a flight of stairs leading up, and with a deep, bracing breath, walked up to the second floor.

/>   The first thing that hit her was the smell.

  Oh fuck, the smell. His smell was everywhere.

  Almost a physical sensation, it crawled up her nose, coated her skin, and her eyes prickled all over again. God, how could she have been stupid enough to fall for him?

  To fall in love with him.

  Sighing, she stepped further into the apartment, taking in the simple studio that was so different from the house on the ranch. A table was propped in one corner, an L-shaped kitchenette surrounding it. The couch was a pale blue, the curtains a soft gray, the bed stripped of its linens, which were folded neatly at the foot of the mattress.

  That neat stack of cotton did her in.

  Or maybe everything that had happened did her in.

  Hearing Justin warn Rex about her was bad enough. Despite everything she’d been through, everyone still thought she was weak. But worse was hearing Rex say he didn’t love her, implying he never would, and the regret on his face when he’d realized she was there had burned like hell, only made worse by the half-hearted apology.

  As if he thought they’d just keep going when there was no future.

  It was just . . . she didn’t get it.

  She didn’t expect him to love her, no matter that she’d fallen hard. It was too much too soon. But Tilly had expected him to be honest with her, especially after they’d shared so much of their pasts. Rex knew more about her than probably any other person on the planet and . . .

  He’d thrown that away.

  Which made this whole situation worse. She’d allowed herself to be vulnerable and—

  Never mind. She’d forget him and move on . . .

  As soon as she sorted out this wild goose chase of coming to the apartment. It wasn’t like she needed to live here. This wasn’t any nicer than her house, and it wasn’t filled with her products from what she could see, as she’d half expected.

  Sighing, she sank down onto the couch.

  Maybe she should just sell her house and move. There wasn’t really anything here, and it was something she’d considered more than once in the past. She’d never had the courage to pull that particular plug before, but maybe this experience with Rex would change that because the idea of facing the town, of seeing Kelly or Henry or Justin look at her with that sad, pitying look she’d seen on Kelly’s face the night before . . .

  No. She couldn’t live like that.

  “Okay,” she muttered. “Nothing here. Just another mistake when it comes to Rex Roos—oh.” Tilly had placed her hand on the cushion next to her to push herself up to her feet, but instead of fabric, she felt paper. Or rather, a manila envelope with her name on the front.

  Carefully, she opened the flap and pulled out the sheet inside.

  “What?” A key was taped onto the single white piece of paper.

  Not here. Downstairs.

  -R

  Heart pounding, she tugged the key free and before she could overthink it, Tilly pounded down the stairs and out into the alley. There was a locked door right next to the one she just exited. She’d tried it earlier, and though it hadn’t budged, she thought maybe this key might work in the lock.

  Her fingers shook as she inserted the key, then shook some more when it turned.

  “Oh,” she murmured, finding it opened to reveal a dim hallway, and she couldn’t be sure if she was disappointed to see it was empty or excited that there seemed to be a light on at the end of it. “Hello?” she called, and when no one answered, she felt along the wall for a light switch and flicked it on.

  Empty, except for a few items that must have belonged to the coffee shop when Carol had retired to Florida—a tray of ceramic mugs and some cleaning supplies were on the shelf, a mop bucket pushed into one corner.

  “Hello?” she called again.

  Nothing.

  Quiet feet led her fully inside and down the hall, drawing her toward that single light like a moth to a flame . . . or an addict to Rex’s scent.

  Because she could smell it all around her, and it made her heart ache.

  Ignoring her sudden urge to cry, knowing this was a grief that she’d get over given enough time, she kept walking until she reached the front of the store. Then gasped.

  The space was the same and yet different.

  The shelves had been sanded and prepped for fresh stain, same as the tables. The cooking equipment had been stacked on one side to be cataloged. A trash can, a broom, and a dustpan were in another corner.

  And she was focusing on the mundane because she was deliberately avoiding the sight directly in front of her. It was so fucking heartbreakingly perfect that it threatened to take her breath away.

  Artfully arranged, better than she could have imagined were her products.

  Shampoo and conditioner, face masks and lip balms. Every single item she made was on that table.

  Including a cinnamon roll candle.

  Sitting on top of another manila envelope.

  This time she knew what was inside before she opened the flap, which was a good thing because her vision was so blurry with tears that it was hard to actually read the paper, to see her name on the deed, to see mock-ups of a sign for the storefront—an exact match to her Tilly’s Treasures logo online.

  “Oh, Rex,” she said, sniffing as she clutched the sheet to her chest. “How can you be so fucking perfect and leave me so easily?”

  “Actually, I found I couldn’t leave you.”

  Gasping, she whirled around, saw that Rex was in the hall. “I thought you’d gone.”

  His expression was careful. “I did go. Got all the way to the airport but found I couldn’t leave. Not without fighting for you, for us. And so, I came back.” He stepped toward her, paused with too many feet between them. “I know you don’t love me, that it’s too soon, because even though I’m in it deep for you, I get that you need time to trust the men in your life and—” He sucked in a breath, came close enough for her to feel his heat. “I just know that I can’t just leave the woman I love without trying one more time.”

  Her throat was dry, her pulse pounding. “I don’t understand,” she said. “You told Justin you could never love me.”

  “I said I never expected to fall in love, sweetheart. But then there you were, a perfect angel on the side of the road, knocking me off my axis, making me realize that life is too fucking short to not go after the love of your life.” He lifted his palm, hesitated with it an inch above her cheek. “That’s you, by the way.”

  She laughed, and it was watery. “I—uh . . .” She shook her head, trying desperately to clear it. “I don’t understand what’s happening. You don’t want to break up with me? You love me? You’re not leaving?”

  “God, no. Fuck yes. And hell no.”

  Tilly dropped her head in her hands. “So—I—”

  She burst into tears and perfect man that he was, Rex tugged her close and gave her the words she needed, telling her all the parts of the conversation she’d missed, how he’d been so upset by her words and leaving that he’d decided to move on. But Kelly and Justin hadn’t let him go. They’d caught him at the airport, and Kelly had kicked both of their asses on the way home—Justin for being a judging meddling fool who didn’t realize that Rex had changed, and Rex for not immediately going after Tilly.

  “I didn’t realize you hadn’t heard it all,” he whispered. “Not until Kelly told me what she’d overheard, and I finally clued in to what you thought. I was such a fucking idiot for not chasing you down straight away, but my feelings were hurt, and I was running stupid, and—” He sucked in a breath. “I left you, sweetheart. I’m so damn sorry for that, most of all.”

  She stuck her face into the crook of his neck and inhaled, letting the scent center her for a moment. “Thank you,” she murmured. “For coming back. I should have fought for us, too. I shouldn’t have run off. Not when you’re so damned important to me.”

  “It was my—”

  “Let’s play who was the bigger idiot later,” she said, hugg
ing him tightly. “I love you, Rex, you imperfect man. I love you because you’re perfect for me. Because you’re kind and thoughtful and—”

  He kissed her, fierce and sweet at the same time, his tongue stroking along hers, his body hard where she was soft, and that fucking delicious eau de Rex making her head spin. Or maybe the lack of oxygen. Or, more likely, it was just Rex because he was loving and considerate, funny, and strong. The only person in all the world who seemed to understand what was going on in her brain and what she needed.

  She’d meant what she said.

  Neither of them was perfect, but he was absolutely perfect for her.

  “I love you,” he said, pulling back and crushing her to his chest. He held her tight for a long moment, but when he set her away from him then laced his fingers through hers and said, “Come on. Let me show you around your shop,” Tilly stopped him.

  “I’d rather you show me the tabletops,” she said slyly.

  His brows drew together. “What?” he asked. “I sanded them down, so they’d be ready for whatever finish you wanted. Did I ruin—?”

  She tore her T-shirt over her head, dropped it to the dusty floor. Then stepped out of her sneakers, shoved her jeans off, and hopped up on a table.

  “Careful of splinters—” he started to warn as she jumped up, but the rest of his words never emerged because her bra joined the rest of her clothes. She crooked a finger in his direction.

  “Forget the splinters,” she said. “Just come over here and love me, Roosevelt.”

  His mouth curved into a sinful smile. “Now that I can do.”

  Epilogue

  Rex

  Four years later

  Rex stood in the doorway of Tilly’s shop, cradling their nine-month-old son in his arms. Justin and Jax were having a serious conversation in one corner, while Jesse, her eyes reddened from crying, was getting a hug from Tilly.

  Abigail, looking so damn grown-up, was sweeping the remnants of a broken candle from the floor, carefully carrying the full dustpan to the garbage can behind the counter.

  “I’m so sorry, Aunt Tilly,” Jesse was saying. “I got so mad at Jax, and I shouldn’t have pushed him.” She hung her head, cheeks glistening with tears.