Kiss My Boots

by Harper Sloan

  "I didn't want to get your hopes up. God, Quinn, there wasn't a damn thing I wouldn't do for you."

  "Except fight for me. Except that."

  "I couldn't fight for you, then, Quinn!" I roar, slamming my fist against the desk. "My father threatened to essentially ruin your family if I didn't go to Emory as planned. If I so much as wrote you a fuckin' postcard he was prepared to rip everything your family had built up apart. And, Quinn, he could have done it."

  "I don't understand," she gasps. "How could he have done that!?"

  Fuck, it kills me not to be able to touch her. The anger is long gone, and the unsteady panic settles in the more I explain.

  "One of his banks owned the loan your father had taken out on not only your family land, but also the auto shop. The type of loan he had, though, included a stipulation that the lender could demand repayment, in full, at any time. Your father had some money troubles about the same time I started spendin' my summers in Pine Oak. I'm not sure when he crossed paths with my father, but he did. The loan ensured he could keep providin' for y'all as he always had, but also gave him the liberty to get out of those troubles."

  "The shop's paid off," she mumbles. "It's been paid off."

  "It was collateral, from what I could tell. I tried everything I could, but my father's a shark. He knew what he was doin'."

  "And by the time it didn't matter because my father was dead, you had already moved on," she says under her breath.

  "It wasn't just you and your family that he was holdin' over my head. He had the same threat going for my gram and paw. Paw didn't do handouts, but when Gram got sick, they lost a lot of money because of her medical treatments. Insurance not coverin' shit. He took a loan out against their house and this office. A loan my father knew would probably never get repaid, but he laughed in my face, sayin' he would demand it all back and push them into the streets if I didn't bend to his will. My mother had his back, even with the threat against her own fuckin' parents."

  "What's different now?" she asks, her voice wavering. "What's different!" she screams when I don't answer right away, jumping up from her seat to pace.

  I track her movements with my eyes, keeping my distance while I continue speaking. "Paw's gone. He was a proud man, Quinn, and I would have gladly paid off his loan years ago, but he refused. When he died, my father cut his losses and put the house on the market. Paw had already paid back the loan on the office and it fell to me in his will. I bought the house the second I found out they had listed it."

  "And . . . my father's gone . . ." she adds, stopping midstride to look over her shoulder at me.

  "And your brother knows his shit. He paid your father's debts off slowly over the years that he's been runnin' things."

  "But because of your grandfather, even with that loan paid off, you stayed away." She utters my unspoken words, turning to face me completely, wetness pooling in her eyes.

  "By the time you weren't being threatened directly, I had convinced myself it was too late. It had been years, Quinn. Years that I had been forced to stay away, cut off contact, all of it. I never stopped wantin' what was stolen from us, but as the years went by, my bitterness grew. I finished school, started my career, and went through the motions of my life. I didn't do serious anything. Committin' to my career only. Until the day I never thought would come cut the ties that held me back."

  "And what? We're supposed to just pick up where we left off?"

  "No, Quinn. You take the truth you finally know and you decide if we pick up where we are now. Get to know the adults we've become. Find out if there's still a place for what we felt as teens or if we only have a friendship now."

  "We don't even know each other anymore," she argues, her claim weak, fingers twisting the front of her Davis Auto Works tank top.

  A sad smile curls my lips up slightly. "Then I guess you need to decide if you want to change that or not, Quinn. Gotta let your heart talk to your mind. You know it all now. The next move is up to you."

  "And you? You've spent all this time away and you're just ready to give it a go? Just like that, you've given up a life in another state, a career, and you're just ready . . . like that? You make it sound like you had no ties to where you came from at all, Tate."

  I get up, walk over to where she's standing, and cup her face between my hands. My palms tingle in awareness from the touch of her alone. "I finished my time at the hospital I was workin' at. I enjoyed things there, but it wasn't even a question. I have friends back there, and me leavin' isn't gonna change that. I won't lie to you, Quinn, I never thought you would ever be standin' in front of me again. I might not have done serious, but sometimes the loneliness got the best of me."

  She shakes her head. "You don't owe me explanations of your behavior for the last nine years, Tate. Not when it comes to . . . that."

  "Maybe not, but I've spent that time keepin' things from you, Quinn. I've got nothin' but clarity when it comes to my heart communicatin' with my mind. I feel like a selfish bastard for hurtin' you, but even more so because in spite of it all I want to hold you tight and never fuckin' let you go, even if you don't want me to."

  "I think . . ." she starts, but pauses to swallow thickly. "I think I need to go."

  I force my hands to release the gentle hold I had on her face, my fingers trailing down her cheeks. She doesn't look away from my eyes until I give her a small nod, closing her eyes tightly while her breathing speeds up. I would give just about anything to be in her head right now. Finally, she lifts her lids and turns to leave.

  "I'll walk you out," I tell her, my voice low.

  She doesn't speak again. The short walk down the hall, past the patient rooms, and to the front door passes in thoughtful silence, both of our minds busy thinking, I'm sure. I stand in the threshold and watch her walk to her haphazardly parked truck before jumping slightly on her heels to pull her short body up into the cab, firing the engine up a moment later and reversing. Then she turns to look at me, something I can't place in her expression making me hold my breath while she lets the window down.

  "You're only a selfish bastard if you don't fight for it now," she yells over the rumble of her truck's powerful engine.

  By the time I remember to breathe again, all that's left is her taillights in the distance and the meaning of her words hanging like a thick promise in the air.

  She wants me to fight.

  10

  QUINN

  "Ain't No Mountain High Enough" by Marvin Gaye

  - -

  I call Leighton the second I speed away from Tate.

  I might have hightailed it over to his office ready to raise some of the hell my brothers claim I'm famous for, having spent the better part of Monday and Tuesday taking out my frustrations on the F1, stuck so deep in my thoughts my anger had built up to something all-consuming. But I left with my head spinning, and with the most distressing thing of all--a sliver of hope that maybe Tate and I weren't quite over, had never really been over.

  I need my bestie.

  By the time I get to the diner, Leigh is already sitting in our regular booth--in the back, away from everyone else. I glance toward the PieHole, seeing the lights still on, and feel a little bad for pulling her away from her prep for tomorrow's pies. Only a little, though.

  I jump down from Ness, my old Silverado from high school, and make my way into the diner. I wave at some of the locals that always seem to be here.

  "Thanks for comin' over. I know you're busy," I tell Leigh after I slide into the booth across from her.

  "Jana's over there finishin' up. I was headed home anyway," she says around the straw of her Coke. "But if Terry makes one more damn crack about Maverick's predilection for pie eatin' at home, I'm gonna go batshit crazy."

  I snort. "He's still goin' on about that?"

  I glance over her shoulder and see the old man in question, Terry Long, wag his bushy brows at me.

  "Gross," I mumble under my breath.

  "Did he do the eyebrow dance
?" Leigh questions with a smile.

  "Ugh, double gross that you have a name for it."

  She shrugs. "So? What's wrong?"

  "I went to Tate," I tell her in a rush, needing to get it out.

  Her eyes widen and she removes the straw from her mouth, pushing her drink away slowly. "You went to him?" she asks in shocked awe.

  "I went to him to give him a good earful. Oh, I was fumin' too, Leigh. I'd been festerin' in that fume for the four whole days since I saw him last."

  "What happened four days ago?"

  Oh. Shit. I belatedly remember I didn't tell her about the morning after our night out. "About that," I hedge, gaining her narrowed eyes.

  "Yes, about that. Let's start there."

  "I sorta . . . well, not sorta, I definitely did, but it wasn't what I thought right away, at least . . . uh, I woke up in his bed the mornin' after we went out to the Dam Bar."

  "You what?" she screams.

  I wince and look past her again to see everyone in the room lookin' our way. I give them a wave, then point to Leigh. "Don't mind us. Just talkin' to Bridezilla here."

  I get a few smiles and rolled eyes, but everyone just goes back to talking softly and eating. Thankfully, they're used to me and Leighton being crazy, and with no visible gossip-worthy things happening in front of them, they'll take our conversation to be the wedding talkfest I say it is.

  "Nothing happened," I hiss, pausing when our favorite waitress, Alice, comes to take our orders. We do the usual burgers, fries, and shakes, my and Leigh's tradition. My eyes follow Alice the second she turns to go put in our orders at the kitchen window until I'm sure she can't hear anything I have to say. "He ran into me when I was past Lenore-level drunk, didn't know for sure where I lived, so when I started gettin' sick, he took me to his paw's old place--well, I guess his place now--got me cleaned up, and crashed."

  "Crashed on the couch or crashed in the same bed as you?"

  "Did I mention he was a little drunk too?" I say, instantly protective of his motives. I shake off the question of why I feel compelled to defend him and stare at Leigh.

  "Wait a minute. You said you rushed over there today stewin' mad." Her eyes darken. "Did that bastard sleep with you when you were wasted? Is that why you were pissed?"

  "Not exactly," I answer honestly.

  "What the hell does that mean?" she blurts out, little drops of spit flying.

  My lip curls up and I hold my hand over my open drink. "Gross. Say it, don't spray it."

  "Quinn." She sighs impatiently, motioning for me to continue.

  "He may have gotten a little hands-on and verbally suggestive. My hackles went up and I may have rushed outta there with a stolen shirt, my boots, and nothin' else."

  Her eyes are as big as saucers when I stop talking. "He let you leave?"

  "He may have tried to stop me, but he didn't get past the porch. I reckon that's because he realized he was wearin' nothin' but his tight-as-hell briefs, a devil-smile, and an erection."

  If possible, her eyes bug out even farther after I tell her that little nugget. Then, to my absolute shock and horror, she tosses her head back and laughs so loud we're once again the center of attention.

  "Would you shut up?" I hiss, bending forward to use her as a shield while I reprimand her. "Seriously, Leigh. Everyone is lookin'."

  Wiping her eyes to clear tears of laughter, she quiets down to a soft giggle before locking eyes with me again and snorting, then starting back up again. I lean back against the booth, cross my arms over my chest, and wait for her to stop acting like an idiot.

  "Sorry." She giggles, calming down slightly, but now she's smiling at me with such a creepy expression I'm not sure if I should be worried for her sanity or not.

  "No, you aren't, but I would love to know what's so dang funny." I pout.

  "Remember that time I threw a pie in Mav's face, then followed him home to finish the fight we were havin'?"

  Now that makes me smile. "You mean when you followed him home and he broke your hooha?"

  "I'm not goin' to let you and Jana play together anymore if you don't stop that shit. You sound just like her," she jokes.

  "Yeah, right. Anyway, get to the point."

  "Weelllll." She drags out the word, and her creepy smile grows a little larger. "Maverick told me a few months later that he got busted by Drew standin' out on the porch naked as the day he was born watchin' me leave that night. I had been stuck in my head, freakin' out about what had happened between us, I didn't even notice him chasin' after me. I just think it's pretty damn funny that you did the same thing to Tate."

  "I didn't rush out of there because I was freakin' out about anything happenin' between us," I say defensively.

  "Liar."

  "We didn't sleep together," I whisper heatedly.

  "You said he got handsy. I know you, Quinn. You would have just pushed back and played him at his own game if it was just a little fun. You freaked out and ran because you could never put him in some one-night-stand category."

  "I could. If I really wanted to."

  Alice comes back and places our plates down with a grunt, leaving just as quickly as she appeared.

  "She's so sweet," I say around a mouthful of fries.

  "Have you talked to Tate since that mornin' other than just now?" Leigh asks with a knowing eye.

  "Today was the first time and I may have stormed into the baby-doctor office and caused a little scene in front of a few people, so I'm guessin' in a few hours the whole damn town will know too."

  Her eyes widen, but she quickly calms herself.

  "It wasn't that bad," I insist. "I only showed my ass for a second before we were alone and talkin' in private. Long story short, he put it all out there and I don't know what to do with the new information. Jesus Jones, Leigh, I almost understand why he vanished into thin air now."

  By the time I finish telling her everything that Tate confessed earlier, our dinner is cold and forgotten about. She doesn't seem to be enjoying the conversation anymore, though, because she almost looks like she's on the verge of tears.

  "What? I can tell you want to say somethin'," I deadpan, exhausted from the emotional marathon I've been on today.

  "You know, I used to think that the men around here were clueless when it came to relationships. Take your brother, for instance. Maverick disappeared, for the most part, because he was runnin' from the shit y'all dealt with growin' up, but also to chase his dreams. He didn't even give me a chance to support those dreams and be there with him durin' all those years he stayed gone. He thought he was doin' the right thing pushin' me away to give me a future without him. Even if we both know now that we could have made it work, he did it all the same, because he was scared.

  I start to speak, to defend Maverick's reasons for leavin', even if I never agreed with his actions in pushin' the connection he had with Leigh away. Out of the three of us, Maverick had to escape our father's reach: I knew that, even if I did miss him every day he was gone makin' a name for himself in the rodeo. It was hard to know he was doing what was best for him, the right thing for him, but that in doing so he was breaking Leigh's heart in two. Leigh just smiles sadly, her lip curling, acceptance written in her blue eyes.

  "Water under the bridge, honey, I know that, but even if I was crushed at the time, I got him back anyway. Don't even get me started on Clay." She laughs, trying to lighten the mood some, but sobers instantly. "Like I said, Q, I used to think all the men around here were clueless, but I can honestly say that isn't the case with Tate. He tried to change the path he needed to travel to chase his dreams. Found a way to make a detour on his journey and keep you in the process. He did everything he could, but in the end, he didn't stand a chance. He didn't want that distance any more than you did, but in order to protect everything you, your family, and his grandparents had, he did what he was forced to do. Now he's back, Q. He's back, and from what you've told me, he didn't even waste a second in hightailin' it back here when he knew thos
e he was protectin' were no longer vulnerable to harm."

  "You make it sound like the easiest thing in the whole dang world, Leigh. To just forget the past and pick back up where we left off."

  A burst of air escapes her lips. "It's not. Not even close. But if you want him--if that connection is still there--then reach out and take it. Y'all still have to get to know the people that you've grown to be, and in the end, you might find what you used to feel for him is no longer there, but you also might find it's a whole lot more powerful now. Either way, you've got to jump in the saddle and take the bumpy trail together to find out."

  I look away and out the window while I weigh her words. There isn't much to see, since it's just after dinnertime on a weeknight, but the darkness is easier to focus on while my head spins.

  "Quinn," Leigh calls softly, breaking me from my thoughts, and I turn to look back across the table at her. "You know we had a conversation just like this when your brother came home. You sat there and supported me without question, but one thing I'll never forget you tellin' me is somethin' I reckon you've forgotten yourself now that you're stuck at the same crossroads."

  Goose bumps pepper my skin and I shiver slightly when I feel the chill of deja vu making itself known.

  "I'll never forget it, Quinn, because it was what I needed to hear in order to take that chance, and because of what you told me, I've got the man I've loved my whole life, a dream he built us, and the promise of one hell of a future. I want that for you, Quinn and I have a feelin' the man who can give it to you is the same one you're afraid to take a leap of faith on."

  I bite my tongue when I feel emotion burning up my chest, something Leigh doesn't miss, because she pushes her arms across the table and grabs hold of my hands with her own, squeezing them tightly. I focus on our tightly clamped-together hands in order to tuck the heaviness I'm feeling back down before looking up to focus on her again, knowing deep down what she's about to say will be a game changer for my jumbled mind.

  "It's been a year since, and I still wonder how long I would have kept pushin' had you not put it all out there with so much clarity, so now it's my turn to give those words back to you. Can you sit there and tell me that since Tate's returned you don't feel like a piece of you that's been missin' is startin' to heal? You told me when two souls are meant to be intertwined, they always find a way back to each other, Q. The difference between you and me, though, is that you know everything that kept him from you, and while he might not have come back until now, it sounds like he's been fightin' for you in some form ever since. Don't do what I did and use your pain to push him away. Allow that missin' piece to heal, and in the end, even if you decide to just be friends, at least you can finally move on with your life one way or the other and have a chance at feelin' your forever."