The Cowboy Rode a Harley
Page 23
“Not everyone comes out ahead. Guess you’re one of the lucky ones, Matt. Maybe you were wrong about drinking the water down South. I think it’s the water around here, if you ask me. I’ll be lucky if I end up with my wounds cauterized,” Stephen said.
Matt downed his drink. “I don’t get it. You finally find a woman who can stand being around you for more than three seconds, and that’s it? You just let her go?”
Brandon interjected, “From what I’ve heard, I think you’re both crazy. Your best defense is thinking it’s wrong to stand in her way? There’s more to it than just that.”
“Says you. I’m not going to stop Gillian’s dream.” Stephen straightened and shoved his hands deep into his pockets. This was getting too close for comfort, even if it was coming from Matt and Brandon.
“Who says to stop it?” Matt asked, tipping his hat back. “What about being honest? I think you’re both full of it.”
Brandon stepped closer. “Saw Haden today.”
Stephen watched his brother run his thumb along the edge of the bar. “I don’t think so.”
“I did. At the center. You’re not the only one with a friend who has issues.”
He’d put his foot in it, alright. Brandon would be visiting Esme or Selma. He couldn’t keep track of his brother’s interest in the Jamison twins. All he knew was, they were wild girls and his brother had stepped into a hornet’s nest, and didn’t see fit to get away. Those girls were in and out of all sorts of programs. He didn’t know which one was in rehab, or if they both were. All he knew was that Brandon had kept a tight lid on his involvement with the women, not wanting their own mother to find out he was sleeping with a potential size-four powder keg. Or two.
Stephen stared at Brandon. “And? You gonna say the rest?”
“Gillian’s got deep feelings for you. Or at least, that’s Haden’s concern. He stopped me and asked to talk. Said he had concerns, you being older and more experienced.”
“Were those his words?”
Brandon sucked in a breath. “Not exactly. Point is, Gillian was the one who set Haden straight on what you two were up to when he questioned her. She came clean.”
“Now, it’s your turn. Cory said Gillian’s about to have a melt-down. That producer is putting the screws to her now that you’re out of the picture. You gonna let that happen? Maybe this dream of hers is turning into a nightmare,” Matt said.
Brandon started up again. “That gonna set well with you? Shoot, you’ve seen the problems her brother’s got. They don’t deserve to be exposed to a bunch of people who couldn’t care less if they step all over them. Blood suckers will take what they can get ‘til there ain’t nothing left. You gotta do right by her. Playing it cool, naw, that ain’t right. It’s wrong. You wanna find out if the girl loves you, take the first step. Man up. Hell, you’re a McLemore.” Brandon slapped him hard across the back. “No one said love was going to be easy.”
“I’m too messed up to drive. Besides, she’s out to dinner. Don’t expect she’ll be back at her place by now.” His brothers were right. He needed to get hold of Gillian. He had to tell her before it was too late.
“You’d better shower. We’ll make coffee. Then we’ll find her. She couldn’t have gone far. Cory said she took her grandparents with her to dinner.”
“She took Nana?” Stephen asked, a smile spreading across his face.
“That’s what our sister said. Let me call her and see if she knows where they’re at.”
Chapter 19
“Let’s try it again,” Nathan winked. “You have to admit, a few minor changes and it’s better. I’m good, right?”
Gillian held her breath until he let go of her shoulder. Every few seconds it was a high five, fist bump, or give me some love. Nathan might be an expert choreographer, but his personality grated upon her last nerve. Dancing with him, she felt robotic. His moves were clean, without argument, but he taxed her reserves of civility, stealing her inspiration and energy.
Nathan’s overzealous cologne was giving her a splitting headache. Sipping from her bottle of water, she avoided responding too quickly, fearing what she’d say.
Sunny called out from her seat next to one of the cameramen. “Nat, much smoother. Definitely what we’re going for, and can we get a lift? Camera two and three, please. Ready on the set.”
“Gill, doll, I’m thinking of a different type of lift. A little more zing. I get that, with an inexperienced dancer, playing it safe had to be a priority. I think we can take it beyond safe into the zone of super-hype. Do you feel me?”
“Not exactly. What are you going to change now?” This guy just didn’t get it. None of these people understood the root of this dance. It was supposed to be about two people closely connected. Two lovers. Two souls. She grimaced, listening to him explain his proposed super-jump. She didn’t like what he described, and the acrobatic move wasn’t a lift she was accustomed to performing.
“Look, I know this move is bit more than you’ve probably done down here, but it’s the standard on a show like this. This is my call. Do you need to speak with Ely to get it through your pretty… Little Head?” His friendly, high-five-fist-bump routine had suddenly vanished. In its place was revealed a man who didn’t enjoy having his ideas questioned.
“Oh, I get it. It might take me a moment, but I’m a quick learner. Ready when you are, Nat.”
“Great, doll. Here’s a tip: being able to tuck-n-roll will take you far in this business. Earn your stripes, and then you can call the shots. I like your attitude.”
Thank God he moved to his mark without a high-five. The music began and Gillian performed all her steps while thinking ahead to the lift. He’d have to place his hand in just the right spot along her hip to execute a full lift with one hand. Nathan wasn’t tall. No more than five feet and change; adding another foot would put her almost at seven feet in the air, with her head pointed toward the floor.
The breath she inhaled serrated its way down her throat. Here goes nothing. Nathan grunted at the beginning of the lift. He grounded his feet. Gillian pivoted a quarter-turn too much, Sunny just called out a change in camera, and Nathan failed to notice. His smiling face was turned toward the camera to his left. He lifted her, taking hold of soft tissue at her waist. Her body began rotating parallel to the floor, instead of executing a clean arc up and over his shoulder. His wrist flexed in the wrong direction. Nathan’s fingers dug into her waist in his effort to complete the lift.
The pain of his hand slipping and pushing against her ribs had Gillian seeing bright specks in front of her eyes. She faltered, and the sensation of plummeting instinctively made her close her eyes. Down, down, dropping against his shoulder, and then she hit the floor.
In her anticipation of the fall, Gillian had opened her eyes at the last second, with her palms outstretched. One of her wrists gave way when the pain became too great, and she ended up meeting the wooden floor shoulder-first.
“Shit. You were off your mark again, Gillian. Sunny, do we have to reshoot the entire sequence, or just the lift? I think I strained my back. I know my wrist is screwed up.”
Gillian pushed up off the floor. Not one of the studio people asked if she needed help. Ely was on the phone, eyeing her with what appeared to be annoyance. Sunny was giving directions to the camera crew. Her dance partner was having the hair person retouch him while another girl held a bag of ice to his wrist.
And she sat there, taking it all in. She froze. Stephen stood in the doorway. Dressed in a black shirt and jeans, and in his boots. Never had a man looked so amazingly delicious, and a sight for sore thighs, not to mention eyes. And never had she been happier to see a person. He crossed the floor with that same predatory gait that had captivated her from day one. And then she remembered, all too quickly, they were just friends. He walked across the floor with his usual marauder bearing and her mouth went Texas-summer-dry.
“Dance with me?” He squatted down next to her, his blue eyes piercing into her heart.<
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She prayed her voice wouldn’t crack. “Why, Stephen? Don’t you have enough friends already? Besides, I thought you had a date later on tonight.”
“Hell, no. What are you talking about?” He leaned closer, pressing his fingers into the floor.
Gillian lowered her voice. “I saw you talking with Sunny. Mighty comfortable from what I saw.” Her miserable stab at maintaining her self-control failed. Terribly. She choked on her words, her eyes stinging. For the past few hours, she’d tormented herself with imagined details, convinced Stephen had moved on. She stretched backward, uncertain what to think. With his body so near, all she desired was to throw her arms around his neck, burying her face against him.
He tenderly cupped her chin. “Don’t turn away from me. Hear me out before you decide. I wasn’t going to say a thing, only now I can see that was the dumbest move I’ve made so far. I don’t like her, or that producer. That woman gave me a choice. Either I step down from dancing, or they weren’t going to play nice. This wasn’t about me, baby. I want you to be happy.”
Her heart beat loudly in her ears. “I don’t know, you just folded up as though we were done. Just friends, with no benefits.”
“Oh, we’re more than friends. Much more. I was wrong. I’m sorry.” The way he gazed at her went straight to her core. He reached into her center, diving deep. No way to deny there was a force between them. It scared her silly, his ability and her lack of control.
“I thought we were over. Or worse, that we never really were anything.”
“I promise, I won’t ever leave you to fend for yourself. Who the heck knows what the wind might blow in? Come away with me. If not tonight, then tomorrow or the next day. We’re good together. I don’t want to lose you. I love you, Gillian Sinclair. Today. And forever.”
She closed her eyes for a second. Now she had a choice. Should she listen to her heart that kept reminding her of their time together? The way he had a knack for coming to get her during her worst moments. He’d claimed he was a selfish man, one who didn’t do much for others, but he’d taken in a sickly puppy and cared for him. He’d taken her to the fair and photographed her students. Helped with her brother and gotten punched in the face. Heck, if she wanted a superhero, she need look no further. He was kneeling right beside her.
“Yes, Stephen. Yes. I don’t want us to end. I’m miserable without you. Please don’t be disappointed if I don’t make it on television. I love my family, my studio and students. I love walking down Main Street and finding sweet surprises, like our puppy. And most of all, I love you.”
He pulled her into his arms. “Then stay with me. We’ll grow old together. Would that be so bad? First, we’ll make some babies and raise our children, and I’ll always love you. Give me a chance, I promise you won’t be sorry.” His voice had gone low and hoarse, banishing her hurt and anger.
Just like the name he’d chosen for their dog. Chance. That’s what this was with him. A chance to make all her dreams come true. She didn’t need to venture to Hollywood, or even the next city. Almost everything she’d ever wanted was here. If her parents were alive, it would have been perfect. But she had a family, and now, with Stephen, she’d have a life with the man she adored and loved. A future.
“Stephen, the first time when we danced, I knew you were the one. Nothing has changed. Except now, I’m more than certain I’m deeply in love with you. There’s one thing I need to do.”
“Do you want me to deal with these people? I’m more than happy to get rid of them. I’ve got your back, baby.”
He lifted her up. She ran her hand over his arm, squeezing him. “Give me a second. I’m a big girl. I got myself into this mess, I better be the one to get myself back out.”
Encased in Stephen’s love, Gillian stepped into the middle of the studio floor. “Excuse me,” she called out, then put her fingers into her mouth and whistled loudly. A few of the studio people grimaced, covering their ears. Everyone stopped. One by one, each person faced her. “Excuse me. I need to let you all know something.” Out of the corner of her eye, she watched Stephen disappear into her back room.
“I’m not willing to do this anymore. I had a dance partner and, without him, I won’t go through this. I appreciate all you’ve done, Mr. Fitzgerald, but this isn’t my dream. And I don’t want to be famous. So, thank you, but I think I want to call it a night.”
Sunny motioned to one of the camera men. She wiped her hand across her throat in the air, signaling something was at an end. Ely came forward, wiping his hand over his hair. “Miss Sinclair. Gillian. Thank you for your dance routine. Excellent performance. Except for that last lift. To what do you attribute—”
“Ely, wait. The cameras aren’t rolling. Hold on, we may need to re-tape. Camera three, anything? Bugger, nothing on one, two, or three. What the hell is the problem? No way all three cameras are dead.”
“Sunny, it’s not a tech glitch. There’s no power. We’re dead.”
“That makes no sense, the lights are still on. How can the wall outlets go down? Who knows how to deal with electrical fixes? Ely, give me a couple of minutes.”
“That’s it. There’s nothing to fix. I want you to leave. Nathan dropped me, and I’d like to get some ice or go to the hospital.” She held out her wrist, which had swollen to the point of looking like a hard-boiled egg had been inserted where her wrist should have been.
“Jesus. Of course, we won’t hold you against your will. I think we can find footage to use about your disqualification. You’re right, that lift was something. I won’t quibble, Gillian. Send the hospital bill to my administrative assistant. Truly sorry, Gillian. Sometimes these things just don’t work out.”
Stephen had come up next to her, hearing every phony word that spilled from Ely’s mouth. “If you try and run that footage, or anything attempting to make Miss Sinclair out to be less than a perfect dancer, I’ll contact an attorney about the matter of how your employee injured her. Make no mistake, Fitzgerald, this may be a small town, but we’re not country bumpkins when it comes to knowing the law. My brothers are here to lock up. Excuse us.” Stephen turned to her, guiding her to the door. “You need to get to the hospital and get your wrist x-rayed. No arguments. I’m taking you.”
The producer broke away from Sunny who’d been whispering in his ear and stepped up next to them. “Thank you, Mr. McLemore, for seeing to Gillian. Uh, sometimes things don’t go as planned. Gillian, sorry. No hard feelings.”
Stephen rounded on the man. “Who said no hard feelings? You ever come to Annona again and I promise you, I’ll show you a two-step you’re not likely to forget. You’re in Texas now. We folk make good on our promises.”
Stephen helped Gillian gather her belongings. “Where did everyone go?” he asked.
“Lori took my grandparents home. My other friends and your sister had to leave when Sunny made it clear they wanted to practice some of the dance sequences without interruption. It was supposed to begin with featuring small segments of the coaching. Apparently, it’s nothing unusual to film for hours.”
“What about dinner? You haven’t eaten?”
“We went over to the diner and did take-out. Hey, don’t ever do that again. I get why you did what you did.”
“Oh, yeah. It was hell. I don’t ever want to play it big, if it means losing you.”
“Thanks for putting my wishes in front of yours. Cory kinda said I should wait to speak with you.”
“My sister has a big mouth.” He laughed. “In a good way. Sorta.”
* * *
Gillian held Chance with her good arm. It had been two days since the accident, yet the swelling was still evident. The doctor said the tendon in her wrist was sprained, but should heal within the month without a problem.
Stephen had gone into the kitchen to get ice and unpack the food they’d picked up on the way home after visiting Haden. Her brother had cracked the first smile she’d seen in weeks that reminded her of the old days. Stephen was right next to her,
along with Nana and Granddad. The two men high-fived each other like when they were high school buddies.
This was the second visit they’d had with Haden. The first had been yesterday and he’d listened to Stephen explain that they were in love and this wasn’t some fly-by-night thing. By the end, they all hugged, with Haden sounding more hopeful since his counselor had set a possible release date in two weeks, and he was excited to think about going home.
Home, she mused, expelling a long-held breath. Home indeed was where her heart resided. This might not be her house, but she was home. Annona, Stephen, Chance, and her family.
Right then Stephen came in from the kitchen, carrying a plate and a bag of ice, and her heartbeat rocketed. “Are you hungry?”
“Always,” she grinned up at him, overjoyed at deciding her life here in her hometown was hands-down the grand prize
“Woman, you’re more bewitching than the first time I laid eyes on you in your bedroom. Let’s put the baby to bed, and then, you’re mine.” He gently took Chance from her. The puppy licked his chin. He pretended to roll his eyes. “This dog needs a manly dog house. I’ve begun the design.”
“Oh, posh. You’ll never leave him outside.”
He bent down, opening the crate. “I might. One day. Soon, if he keeps hogging all your attention.”
After putting the puppy in his crate, Stephen came at her with a look she’d come to know all too well. In a second, she got up and put the sofa between them. “What’s on your mind for tonight?”
He reached to rub his knuckle along her jaw, pressing his thumb under her chin. “Nothing special. Why?”
“Don’t try and pull a fast one on me, McLemore. I can see those wheels spinning.”
“Remember when I told you if you got sassy, I might have to show you how I planned on dealing with such an issue?”
“You won’t dare. I’m wounded.” Gillian held up her wrist in mock pain.
“Oh, come here, and I’ll make it all better. Promise.”
She carefully shifted behind the sofa so as not to arouse his suspicion at her attempt outrun him. “I thought you said Texans made good on their promises. That’s a boldfaced lie.”