Cowboy 12 Pack
Page 94
This lifestyle was what she deserved. A future filled with intelligent conversation, educated friends, opportunities to do new things, like teach wherever she wanted to and learn from the best writers in the world.
What kind of an asshole would hold her back? Chase Tanner, that’s who. “Shit.” He was bad for her. A pain shot into his chest. Did she deserve better? Would it be best to let her go?
He looked down the tree-lined street. It would be easy to disappear. He could leave a note, have the valet give it to her. It was the coward’s way, but he never claimed to be a hero.
Quick high-heeled footsteps sounded behind him, and he turned to see Reno’s panicked face. When she spotted him, she hurried over. “You disappeared on me.” She sucked in air as if she’d been holding her breath the whole time.
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
“What?” She stared at him. “No. What makes you think that?” She looked so amazing tonight, holding her plaque, the proof that she was too smart to get mixed up with a man like him.
Their limo pulled up, he took her arm and guided her to it, and helped her inside. He had to do this. Now. “I’m gonna walk.”
Slamming the door to block out her shocked face, he took off, taking long strides and reminding himself he was doing this for her.
Behind him, the limo door opened, and Reno’s running footsteps tapped behind him. “Chase, wait!”
He moved faster.
“Don’t run away from me.” She sounded frustrated. “Not tonight.”
Great. Her big night, and he’d screwed everything up. He shouldn’t have come here to begin with. She would have been better off without him.
“Can we talk about this?” She wasn’t running after him anymore. Maybe she had come to her senses. She’d just let him go. An easy, clean break for both of them.
He kept up the fast pace, putting space between them.
“Walk and clear your head.” Her voice wavered. “I’ll see you at the hotel.”
At the corner, he turned to look at her. One last time. She stood under a streetlight watching him, her hands in fists pressing against her mouth.
Damn him to hell. He couldn’t do anything but hurt her. Lifting a hand, he touched the brim of his hat and walked away. It was the best thing for her. The best thing for him. They came from different worlds and lived in separate universes.
But he’d always remember her.
Chapter Seventeen
‡
THREE WEEKS LATER, Reno zipped her suitcase, ready to leave for France in a few hours. She hauled it down the stairs to the front door. Her brother and his wife would be looking after her place while she was gone. Of course, she’d endured Cody’s “I told you so’s” for that first week while she fused her phone to her hand waiting for Chase to return her calls.
Ten days ago, she’d finally boxed up the suitcase full of clothes he’d left at their hotel room, and shipped it to him. The note she enclosed said, Nothing happened the night Drake stayed at my house. When I confronted him after you walked away from me in DC, he told me what he’d said to you. Chase, this is all you need to hear—to hell with the rest of the world. We can make it work. Reno.
No response. She left voice messages, sent texts and e-mails. Via online fan sites, she followed his concert tour. The amateur videos taken by the audience showed a happy, crowd-pleasing Chase. Had he gotten over her already?
No, he just needed time. His life was busy right now. When things slowed down, he’d realize how much he missed her. Wouldn’t he? She stared out the window at the bright February-thaw day. Melting snow from the roof dripped off the eaves and pooled in muddy puddles in the yard. She wouldn’t be here to see her tulips bloom this spring. She’d be in Paris. As alone and lonely as she’d ever been in her life.
She’d told him she could forgive him anything, but how much was too much? Was he back to his old ways? Sleeping with anything in a skirt? Still, the idea of a life without him was unimaginable. She wiped the wetness off her cheek.
“Stop it.” She’d cried far too many tears for him. The students and faculty of the Sorbonne deserved her full attention. She stumbled to the table and sat, her uncompleted letter in front of her. She’d finish writing it, and she’d mail it. Any time she felt the urge to cry, the need to yell and scream, or the desperate longing to be in his arms, she’d write another one and send it to him.
Maybe one day she’d hear back from him. She picked up her pen. No, she probably wouldn’t. He was stubborn; he thought he was doing what was best for her. “Stupid idiot.” She’d give him time. Give him space. Then, if she hadn’t heard from him, she’d corner him and bully him into admitting how he felt about her. “Yeah. Easier said than done.”
*
ALMOST TWENTY DAYS on the road and Chase couldn’t concentrate. Everything he did made him think of Reno. Meeting the president, he wished she was there to see that he had some high-and-mighty friends, too. Singing for a group of sick children in a hospital in Maine, he wanted her by his side to help him hug the little ’uns. Every concert, he took the stage, scanning the crowd, looking for her. She’d never come. He saw to it. Deleted her unread messages and e-mails, made her think he was done with her. “Shit.” Would he ever get her off his mind?
Before heading out on tour, he’d gotten piss-drunk, started a fire by the pool, and burned everything he owned that reminded him of her, including the suitcase full of his clothes she’d sent him. He knew his favorite hat was in there, but he didn’t care. He’d never wear it again after all the times he’d worn it with Reno.
When the fire department swarmed his ranch, he’d been just about to burn the letter she’d sent with it. Were the firefighters a sign? Karma? He kept the letter. Unopened. Some day he’d be able to read it, but not yet. She was still too fresh in his memory.
*
FOUR MONTHS LATER, Chase sat in a big, red-leather chair in his dressing room drinking expensive tequila and washing it down with cheap beer. Alone. On his birthday. Where the hell was he? Chicago?
Steele called that morning asking if he needed a friend to fly in, take him out after the concert. Chase lied and said he had plans already. Ryder sent a text message wishing him a happy birthday, accompanied by a picture of a naked woman holding a cake. Chase took a glance at the photo and deleted it. Nothing excited him anymore.
He caught a glimpse of himself in the wall mirror and leaned closer to it. He looked like shit. Running a hand through his hair, he tried to get it to stay down, but he’d fallen asleep after his shower, and it rooster-tailed all over his head. The dark circles under his eyes made him look twenty years older, and his skin was red and puffy. Like his dad.
Chase stared into his reflection. “You screwed up bad.” Worse than anything his dad ever did. Two weeks ago, when he went home for a few days, his housekeeper gave him a huge stack of his personal mail, including about twenty letters from Reno. And one postcard.
The envelopes he stuffed in a drawer with the rest of the envelopes from her, but the postcard got to him. A picture of the French countryside, flowers and trees, a river, rolling hills. Probably what her place in South Dakota looked like in the summer. He made the mistake of turning it over and reading. Her loopy writing made him smile, but her words brought an ache to his heart. Chase, it’s lovely here, my work keeps me busy, but my nights are lonely without you. Please come and visit. Reno.
He tossed it into the drawer with the other letters and backed away. Backed right up to the liquor cabinet and filled his glass to flood out the pain. Two days later, in one of his drunker, weaker moments, he told Sue Lynn to go out and buy a dozen sappy birthday cards. Ones that said something about, “for the woman in my life.”
She’d brought back about twenty, wordlessly handed them to him, and stormed out the door. He didn’t blame her for being disgusted. He’d turned into a drunken asshole. Just followin’ his old man’s footsteps.
He read the cards and picked the simplest one. No
t too mushy. He’d yelled for his housekeeper and had her address it to the return address on Reno’s envelopes. She’d pointed out that he hadn’t signed it.
“I’m not signing it.” His voice had slurred. “And don’t put my return address on it.” He waved her out. “Go to the post office and have them send it the fastest way possible.”
Sue Lynn had tsked and stomped away just before he passed out.
The next morning, he woke on the couch, his bleary eyes staring right at the birthday cards spread across the coffee table. “Shit!” What the hell had he done? He picked up the cards and threw them in the trash then dove head-first into a bottle.
Now, on his birthday, things were falling apart. Two solid weeks of drinking affected his performances. Thank heaven he hadn’t heard back from Reno. If she was smart, she’d drop his card in the Seine river and move on with her life.
Hell, he’d been searching online news sites for information about France a few times a week since she was gone, watching for any danger she’d be in so he could…what? Rush over there and be her hero? Pick her up in his arms and haul her onto his jet and safely away from trouble? “Damn fool.” She didn’t need a hero. She didn’t need him. She needed the life she was meant to live, and that did not include him.
He tipped his head back and let himself fall asleep, the roil of self-loathing clenching his gut.
A knock on the door startled him out of his dreamless sleep. “Come in.”
“Chase, my best client.” His agent, Harwood Rossburg strolled in. And he wasn’t alone. Every year on his birthday, Harwood brought him a couple gifts. Two beautiful blonde hookers. Expensive ones.
Harwood put his hands on the girls’ lower backs. “This is Velvet, and this is Lace. They’re a team, and they’re yours for the rest of the night.”
They were exceptional. Both of them tall and thin, big tits in tight shirts, one in velvet booty shorts, and the other in a lace miniskirt. Both of them smiled seductively. In the past, Chase took advantage of the gift, before, during, and after his concert. Tonight, he didn’t feel much like doing anything but drinking.
Chase stood and wobbled a bit. “Harwood, man, you’ve outdone yourself this year.” He took each of the girls’ hands and kissed them. “Pleased to meet you, ladies. Would you mind givin’ us a few minutes?” He gestured to a door behind them, leading to the adjoining room where he got his hair and makeup done. “Harwood and I have to talk, but help yourself to anything you’d like.”
The girls leaned in on their four-inch heels and kissed him on each cheek. “Don’t be long.” Was that Velvet? Or Lace? The other one licked her lips. “We’ll be waiting for you.” They giggled and strutted through the door.
His agent laughed. “What do you possibly have to talk about that can’t wait until you’ve shot your load into those girls’ mouths?”
Chase flopped back onto the chair and blinked to clear his vision. “I’m having trouble writing.”
That got his agent’s attention. Harwood pulled up a chair. “We’ve promised your label a twelve-song release by the end of the year. What’s going on, buddy? What can I do to get your creative juices flowing?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know. I wanted the album to come out with the movie. But I’ve hit a wall.”
“You have the Prairie Fire song. That’s going to be a number one.”
He sighed. The mention of the song he’d written for Reno made his chest contract. It was too personal. A love song meant for one perfect woman. He rubbed his forehead. “I might need to get some songwriters in.” Damn it, he’d never had writer’s block before.
“Okay, okay, whatever you need. Just tell me who you like, and I’ll have them waiting for you at the end of the tour.”
Chase’s phone rang. He stood and shook Harwood’s hand, ending the uncomfortable conversation. “Thanks. And thanks for the gift.” He gestured to the closed door. Although he sure as hell wouldn’t be enjoying them.
Harwood clasped Chase’s shoulder. “Happy birthday, Chase. Keep in touch.” He walked out.
Chase picked up his phone from the end table. It was a local number. “Yeah?”
“Mr. Tanner?”
“Yeah.” Who the hell had gotten his number?
“It’s security at the loading dock. There’s a…a woman here who says she’s your girlfriend.” He spoke fast, sounding nervous.
He’d heard this one before. “I don’t have a girlfriend.”
“I wouldn’t have bothered you, but she gave me your cell phone number.”
“Then I’ll need to get it changed. Send her to the box office to buy a ticket.”
The man spoke to someone in a muffled voice. “She says to tell you it’s Reno.”
Reno? Here? Chest pains, couldn’t breathe—goddamn. He sat forward and his head spun. What did she want? He’d been ignoring her for months. Couldn’t she take a hint?
“Mr. Tanner?”
“What’s your fucking hurry?” He damn near shouted. “Shut up a minute.”
“Sorry.”
Shit, he’d been snapping at everyone for months. Things were just starting to get easier, he was beginning to forget what it was like to hold Reno, make love to her, and sleep with her spooned against him all night. Waking up in the morning, those amber eyes of hers looking at him with tenderness then with a naughty gleam as he took her from behind. “Fuck.”
She must have come back from France when she got that birthday card. Why had he done it? He knew straight up she’d be better off without him. She should stay in Europe. Marry somebody at the college, have smart kids. He could tell her that…
No, she wouldn’t break if off clean, she wouldn’t believe it was over, until he showed her what an ass he was.
The hookers’ giggles echoed loudly behind the door. He knew what he had to do.
This was going to hurt him more than it would hurt her, but it was the only way to set her free.
He took a breath and swallowed his emotions. “Hey, man.” He spoke into the phone. “Let her in, and have somebody bring her right to my dressing room.”
“I sure will, Mr. Tanner. Thank you.” The kid sounded relived.
Chase hung up. Bracing his hands on the soft leather of the chair’s arms, he braced himself to do this. Pushing himself up like a man heading to his own execution, he stood and walked on shaky legs to the door into the arena. As he opened it, his big Samoan bodyguard came to attention. “Mr. Tanner?”
“Tony, when Reno Linden gets here, let her right in.”
“Sure.” He glanced into the room. “Want me to move the ‘ladies’ somewhere else?”
“Hell no. They’re part of the surprise.”
Tony looked like he wanted to argue, then just nodded in his quiet way.
Chase closed the door and stared at himself in the full-length wall mirror. Dark circles looked like bruises under his eyes. There wasn’t time for makeup, and without it, she’d know he was having a rough time. He grabbed his hat off the counter and settled it low on his head. It hid his exhaustion, but nothing could hide the hatred he felt for himself. In the mirror, he flicked himself the finger. “Don’t screw this up, asshole. Do what’s right for Reno.”
Chapter Eighteen
‡
A LOUD KNOCK sounded on the door, and it swung open. “Visitor, Mr. Tanner.” His bodyguard smiled at Reno as she walked past.
Chase tipped his head down, letting his hat brim cover his face.
“Hello, Chase.” Her sweet voice cut through his numbness, breathing life into his dying heart.
Slowly he lifted his head. There she stood, his perfect Reno. Her cheeks pink, her amber eyes big as spotlights, her jaw quivering. She’d dressed for the concert, jeans and boots, a low-cut shirt and a fringed jacket. She clutched a giant Holstein-print purse to her stomach.
Every instinct told him to run to her, drop onto his knees, and beg her forgiveness. Promise her anything if she’d take him back.
But he couldn’t be
the reason she didn’t achieve her dreams.
“Reno. What’re you doing here?”
A line formed between her brows and her eyes darted around before her gaze landed on his face. “I got your card. I thought you wanted to see me.” Her voice quavered.
He leaned a hip on the couch back, crossing his arms. “Sorry about the card. It was a mistake. A miscommunication to my staff.”
“Why are you pushing me away?” Her voice sounded choked. “Is it because of Drake? The night he stayed at the farm?”
“No. I know nothing happened between you two. Not that you shouldn’t have told me about it anyway.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t want to get into the reason he was there.”
“The job in France?” Chase tightened his lips as his anger surfaced again.
“Chances of my getting the position were slim, and I didn’t want to have to explain because—”
“Because you didn’t think I would let you apply for it? Because you going away for four months would have upset me? And you didn’t want to have to deal with it?” He snorted a humorless laugh. “You know me too well. That’s exactly how I responded when you took the job. Unreasonable and selfish.”
The opposite of what he was doing now. For her. Unselfish and logical, so why did it hurt like hell?
Her face drained of color. “No. That’s not why. We were so new to each other, I didn’t want it hanging over us like a cloud.” She licked her lips. Her beautiful, soft lips. “I can see now that I was wrong, but at the time, I just needed to be the selfish one.”
She was never selfish. She was the most giving, sweet person he knew.
Now it was his turn to show how giving he could be; to push her away from him and back into the life she deserved. He straightened and faced her. “Listen. I’m an old-school kind of guy. I expect my woman to be by my side. You’ve got a career that takes you away from me.” He shrugged. “It just doesn’t work. For either one of us.” Crazy talk that sounded more like his dad’s mentality than his.