The Truth About Cowboys

by Jones, Lisa Renee

  “Convincing your woman you’re not the dickhead you’re acting like. Don’t prove me wrong.”

  “Don’t attack him, Jason. Believe it or not, I don’t corrupt everyone around me.”

  Jason scowls and then he’s walking, dragging me with him. “Jason.”

  He doesn’t reply.

  “Jason.”

  He keeps walking and then suddenly we’re behind his truck bed and he’s turning me to face him, his big body a wall in front of me. “Stop pulling me everywhere,” I say, shoving against him. “Stop dragging me. Stop pushing me. Stop.”

  “You belong here with me.” His mouth slants over mine and he turns me, pressing me against the truck, his tongue licking wickedly, possessively into my mouth.

  I moan with the bittersweet taste of this kiss and somehow I shove against his chest. “Stop. Stop kissing me. Kissing me doesn’t make this go away. I was worried about you and what did you do? Attack me.”

  His hands go to my arms. “Let’s me be clear, then. I’m sorry. I was an asshole. I came back to apologize. I came back to tell you everything that happened and you were with Allen.”

  “And you just assumed I did something wrong?”

  “I fucked up. I get that.”

  “You always get it. You just do it again.”

  “I’m done with that. We’re done with that.”

  “Because you say so? Is that why?”

  “Don’t be obstinate. Not now. I have things to tell you.”

  “This is me being obstinate? It’s my fault? It’s always what I did wrong?”

  “Jessica—”

  “I need space, Jason. I need to think.”

  “I have so much I want to tell you,” he says. “So much, Jessica.”

  “I don’t want to hear. Not now.” I shove away from him and he shackles my wrist.

  I whirl on him. “Stop. Stop dragging me around. Stop manhandling me. Let go. Let go now. You don’t get it.”

  His eyes go wide and he releases me. I rotate and start walking toward my cottage. It’s a long walk, but I don’t care. I just need out of here, and my God, I’m a mess. I want him to follow. I don’t want him to follow. He doesn’t follow. And there you go. That says so much. I’m alone. That part of me that’s afraid of being alone wants to turn and run back to him. That part of me wants to be in his arms, but isn’t that exactly what I did with Craig? Stayed when it was time to go, out of a fear of being alone?

  The sound of tires on the road behind me closes in, and I walk faster.

  “Jessica.”

  It’s Roarke, and my God, I wanted it to be Jason. It cuts and burns that it isn’t him. “I’m fine,” I say, but I don’t stop walking. “I need to be alone. I’m fine.”

  “It’s five miles to your cottage,” he says, pulling up beside me, leaning out of his window. “We don’t have to talk. I’ll just give you a ride.”

  I stop walking and he halts the truck. “Five miles?” I ask, feeling defeated by that number.

  “Yes, and there are—”

  “Snakes,” I supply, and with his nod, that’s all the confirmation I need. I round the truck and climb inside. “I can’t talk,” I say, pulling the door shut.

  “And I promised you that I won’t push you to talk.” That’s all he says. Nothing more. He simply leaves it at that and places the truck into drive again, setting us into motion.

  I sink back against the cushion, willing myself not to lose it. I’m not doing that. I’m not losing my shit over Jason. That’s my rule. You don’t cry over people who don’t really love you. I cried all the tears I had to cry when I was sixteen and my mother didn’t come home for three days. My mind goes back in time, to me pacing our apartment, to me calling everyone we knew, and I couldn’t reach my mother. That’s how little she thought of me. There’s a saying: when someone shows you who they are, believe them the first time. Jason proved to me who he is today. Someone who doesn’t love me. Someone who doesn’t get my tears. He doesn’t get my tears.

  I blink and the truck is now stopped in front of the cottage, and I don’t even remember the drive. “Jessica.”

  At Roarke’s prod, I turn to look at him. “Yes?”

  “If you need me, I’m here.”

  I barely know this man, but I believe him. I believe he’d help me. I believe he could become a friend. He is a friend. “Thank you. Thank you very much, Roarke.”

  His eyes darken, and I can feel how he fights words. I spare him that battle and reach for the door, popping it open.

  “Jessica.” I don’t turn, and he softly says, “He loves you. You know that, right?”

  “No,” I say. “He doesn’t love me.” I get out and shut the door, running toward the cottage, and the thing is, my path is riddled with bricks and tree roots, but I don’t fall. I don’t go down and that says something, I believe. It says that I’m on solid ground. It says that I’ve made my decision. I’ve decided to love myself enough to be comfortable being alone.

  CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR

  Jessica…

  I walk into the cottage and the scent of him is everywhere. I didn’t realize until this moment how much this cottage feels and smells like Jason. I’m suffocating. I’m done right now. So very done. I need to be alone, and alone doesn’t mean living in the cottage that he owns and doesn’t want me to stay at in the first place.

  Kelly rushes to my feet, and I pick her up, hugging her. “You are going to go back to Shelley, and it’s going to kill me.” I kiss her. “No. No, you aren’t going back to Shelley.” I hold her up and she meows. “You’re staying with me and we aren’t staying here.” I set her down and walk to the bedroom and start packing, a burn in my chest and eyes that pisses me off.

  No tears.

  He doesn’t get my tears.

  My cell phone rings, and damn it, I rush to look at it to find my mother calling. I decline. Why is she even calling right now? I grab a suitcase and head to the door. Fifteen minutes later, Jason hasn’t called or showed up, and why? He believes I’ll be here waiting. He believes I’m a sure thing, and I’m not. I’m not a sure thing for him or anyone anymore. I pull off the stupid ugly boots and pull on the cute ones with pink designs. I’m me. I will not be what Jason expects.

  Another ten minutes later, Kelly is loaded in the car, litter box and all. I stand by my car door and stare at the cottage. Damn it, it’s cute. I love this place. I pant out a breath and get into the car, sealing myself into the air conditioning and promising myself a new city apartment with lots of cool air. I now have to choose: go see Martha or call her? I’ll call. I’ll tell her that I love her and that we’ll make the cookie business work from a distance. I’ll hire someone to help her. It’s the only way to make this work. I start to dial and instead I just sit there and do nothing…

  …

  Jason…

  Roarke doesn’t come back to the ranch, and the idea that he’s with Jessica eats me alive. I wait and wait for his return, and when he doesn’t come back, I get in my damn truck. Once I’m on the main road, I drive to Jessica’s cottage, but her car is missing. My heart is thundering in my chest as I climb back into my truck and drive toward the main house, praying Jessica is with my grandmother. My gut says she’s not there, and I pound the steering wheel, punching the accelerator as I pass the Flying J sign.

  My house comes into view as does Roarke’s truck sitting next to my grandmother’s car. Jessica’s car is not here, and I pull out my phone, punching in her number. It goes to voicemail. By the time Jessica’s voice tells me to “leave a message,” Roarke and my grandmother are on the porch, waiting on me. Dread fills me. Fuck. What’s going on?

  I exit my truck, crossing the yard and climbing the steps to stop just before the top level. “Where is she?” I ask.

  “I took her home,” Roarke says.

  “What was that, Jas
on?” my grandmother demands. “Why would you attack her like that?”

  My defenses rise. “She wanted to research that damn romance novel. She has a silly list. What’s a perfect cowboy or some shit like that. I didn’t like that she used my man for that.”

  “First of all,” my grandmother says, “I told her to go riding with Allen. She wants to learn to ride. She wanted to fit in for you, Jason. You know that, right? For you. And that list was my chocolate martini list.”

  I blink. “What?”

  “I dictated that list. Who better to know what a perfect cowboy is?”

  “That was, wait, that was your list?”

  “Yes. I’m a woman, too, my boy. And if you’d ever get a life again and take me to a few baseball games, maybe I’d meet a man I haven’t known for a lifetime and get a new life of my own.”

  “You want a man, Grandma?”

  “I’m lonely. This place is limited. The men are all spring chickens who don’t want an old lady any more than I want a kid wet behind the ears.” She steps in front of me, taller than normal with me a level lower than her, and pokes my chest. “You know what I think—I think you’re so wrapped up in Tessa that you can’t see anything logically with Jessica. You’re going to lose her. I mean, really? You got mad at her for helping me make money doing something I love? You might choose not to play ball and do what you love to make money, but if I can do what I love and make money, that’s a blessing.”

  “You don’t need—”

  “I want to do it. We want to do it together, me and Jessica. I love her. You love her. She did that for me and us. She landed a huge contract with a food chain. Enough money to keep this ranch going for a long time. Enough money to let you go play ball. And what did you do? Attack her the minute you got back. Open your eyes.”

  “Grandma—”

  “We both know you love her.”

  “She’s not Tessa,” Roarke says. “She’s not.”

  “I know that,” I say. “You think I don’t know that?”

  “What I know doesn’t matter,” he says. “And hers is the only opinion that matters, but it might be too late, man.”

  “No,” I say, that idea cutting through me. “No. Fuck no. Where is she? I went to the cottage—”

  “Gone,” my grandmother says. “I missed her call. She left me a message and now she’s not answering. She left. She packed up and left.”

  The ground falls out from underneath me and I’m falling straight into hell. “I can’t lose her. I can’t. I won’t.” I turn and charge for the truck.

  “You need to grovel!” my grandmother shouts after me. “You need to make her feel that this is it. There will be no more asshole cowboy.”

  I raise a hand and get into my truck, already starting the engine. I’m going to find her. I’m going to make this right. Somehow, someway, I’m going to win her back.

  CHAPTER FIFITY-FIVE

  Jessica…

  The world fades in and out, my pulse thundering in my ears. Calling Martha gutted me. I was relieved when she didn’t answer. If she had, I might have cried for her, because Martha deserves my tears. Martha cares about me. I know she does. I start playing our laughter and cookie baking in my head. I start replaying all the hot kisses with Jason. Every moment in Sweetwater, and how much that place felt like home. And now I’m leaving. I’m leaving my home. What am I doing? I’m running. Who am I kidding? This isn’t me being okay with being alone. This is me running, which technically is what I did when Craig cheated, but then, back in Dallas, I wasn’t happy. I am happy now. Why does Jason get to take that from me?

  A rest stop hits my visual, and I cut right and off to the access road, heart thundering in my chest all over again for ten thousand reasons. I pull into the driveway of the travelers’ stop, parking at the community restaurant building, while Kelly meows and shoots to the window. I pick her up and kiss her, crack the window for her, and then get out of the car with a decisiveness I’ve been missing for a long time. I can’t leave. I can’t leave because I don’t want to leave. I’ll rent my own place somewhere close to the ranch and make cookies with Martha. Jason can’t stop us. He can’t run me off. I walk to the entrance with a plan decided upon. I’ll do what any traveler would do. I’ll go inside and pee. Afterward, I’ll buy coffee and then drive back to Sweetwater, my home, and find a place to live.

  I open the door and do just that. I walk through the busy rest station, find the bathroom, and when I’m done, I wash up and look at myself in the mirror. Me, the citizen of Sweetwater, Texas, the woman who knows what she wants. Who cares if my hair is all over the place and my mascara a tiny bit smudged because a tiny tear or two escaped? I didn’t really cry. I claim that flag and fly it hard. He didn’t make me cry. I’m in control. I can be alone and stand my ground at the same time.

  Empowered, I walk to the door, open it, and exit to find Jason standing there. That’s when I cry. “Oh my God!” I whisper, punching his chest. “Why are you here? Why are you making me cry? You don’t get my tears. You don’t deserve my tears.” I cut away from him and walk into the middle of the busy store, because let’s face it, Jason isn’t going anywhere there might be a scene that puts him on the front page of some sports pages.

  “Jessica, stop!” he calls out. “Please stop.”

  He calls out loud enough that voices hush and heads turn. I rotate and face him, “What are you doing, Jason?”

  “What I should have done a long time ago. I’m fighting for you.”

  A kid next to me raises his phone. “That’s the Flying J. Jason!” the kid calls out.

  “He’s recording, Jason,” I warn.

  “I don’t care,” he says, and then he’s down on a knee in front of me. “Forgive me. Forgive me for every asshole moment I’ve had since meeting you. I know I’ve been living in the past. I know that, but the truth is, I was afraid to love you. I was afraid of getting hurt. I was already afraid of losing my grandmother like I lost my parents. If I let myself love you, I’d have to be afraid of losing you, too.”

  I can barely breathe. “Jason,” I whisper. “I don’t—”

  “Don’t finish that sentence. Please don’t finish a sentence with the word don’t in it.” He stands up and cups my face. “Let me finish, please. Some part of me knew that if I saw you for you, Jessica, it was inevitable. I was going to fall for you. That’s what I’m telling you. I see you, really see you, and I was right. It happened. I love you, Jessica, so damn much. Don’t leave. Come home with me. Make my home your home. Make me whole again, because I signed another baseball contract and that won’t do the job. Only you sharing this with me will.”

  Those tears he didn’t deserve are flowing hard now. “You—you love me?”

  “Yes, sweetheart. I love you, so damn much, and if you give me the chance I’ll do everything I can to make sure you love me, too. To make sure I deserve it but not your tears. I will not be the man who makes you cry. Never again. I will fight anyone and anything that makes you cry. I will—”

  I press my lips to his and whisper. “I have a secret.”

  “Will I like this secret?” He glances around at the crowd of a good thirty people now surrounding us, cameras flashing. “And can they know this secret?”

  “I’m pretty sure they already know, even though you don’t seem to get it. Apparently, I have a thing for assholes, because I already love you.”

  He smiles, and God, it’s a devastating smile. He cups my head and kisses me. “Say it again.”

  “I love you.”

  “Say you’ll stay. Forever, Jessica. Say you’ll stay forever.”

  “Yes. Yes, I—”

  He picks me up and starts carrying me toward the door and the crowd erupts in cheers. We step outside and it’s official. Sweetwater, Texas, here we come. Home, here we come.

  EPILOGUE

  Jessica…


  Three months later…

  Jason, me, and Martha walk into one of the restaurants launching Martha’s cookies, and we run to the counter. We all go nuts over the cookies on the menu, and I shove my phone at Jason. “Take a picture of use with the cookie menu!”

  He laughs. He does that a lot lately, and I fall more in love with him every time. He shoots the picture and then we go to the counter and order cookies.

  While we wait for the order, Allen, who is now the new foreman, calls. “I can’t find Kelly.” He and Debbie are house-sitting and cat-sitting, which is a necessity, since Shelley is now in Germany and planning to live there apparently. We have Kelly and we’re not sending her to Germany.

  “Check under the master bed.”

  “I did.”

  “Well, don’t worry. When you go to bed, she’ll pounce on you.”

  “Great. I can look forward to nightmares of a demon sphynx cat attacking me in my sleep.”

  “Okay. Well. Happy cat-sitting.”

  He grumbles, “If I’m dead, who’s going to grow apples?” He hangs up, and I laugh as Martha and Jason join me with a bag filled with cookies.

  “Next season it will be the apple cobbler cookies,” Martha says. “I can’t believe they took them, too, and signed me to a contract.”

  “Five years,” I say. “It’s pretty darn perfect. Hopefully we can keep up with the apples those cookies will sell. Though Allen is certain Kelly will kill him and there will be no apples.”

  We all laugh, and Jason motions to the door. “I have a surprise. Come with me, ladies.”

  “What surprise?” I ask.

  He leans down and kisses me. “It’s not a surprise if I tell you.” He snags my hand and leads me outside to the truck, while I have this surreal feeling of being with family and back here in Dallas, a few miles from my old offices, which I will never visit again. I resigned a month ago and never looked back.

  A few minutes later, we pull up to a high-rise not far from where the Rangers practice field lies. It’s also only a few miles from the corporate offices for the company buying our cookies. Martha and I share a confused look, but I have a feeling this is about her new cookbook deal, a celebration. We hurry inside, and the lobby is all shiny tiles and high ceilings with gorgeous hanging bulbs. Our destination is the twentieth floor and Jason unlocks the door. “I want you ladies close to me while I’m at camp. It’s a rental now, but if you like it, it’s for sale.”