by Cindi Madsen
I don’t think I am, anyway. Not that it matters, since Royce made it clear he’s not interested.
Sadie leaned forward and lowered her voice. “I know this sounds desperate, but I swear I’d just take the sex if I thought I could even get that.” She took a generous swig of her beer. “Maybe we should leave. Watching him all night, seeing all the girls who’ll inevitably hit on him, and the ones he’ll hit on…that’s not going to make me feel better.”
“I think we just need to speed up the drinking.” Quinn flagged the waitress who was walking by and asked for a couple shots of their best tequila.
…
Royce was doing his damnedest to not look at Sadie, but how was he supposed to do that when she was wearing that bright red dress? He’d nearly tripped over his own feet when he’d first seen those little strings that basically pointed to her cleavage. Then there was the way her hair skimmed her bare shoulders—strawberry-blond hair, the way she used to be. Not to mention the legs and the boots and the eyes and the lips. Even when he wasn’t looking at her, he saw her.
He signaled Seth to ask for another drink.
“Obviously this plan didn’t involve…” Cory gestured with his beer toward Sadie and Quinn. The other guys in the place were noticing the girls, too, which made it impossible to relax and enjoy this night away from the ranch. Every muscle in his body was tensed and the beer wasn’t working near quick enough. When Seth placed a Coors in front of him, he asked for a shot of Jim Beam as well.
He caught a flash of red and gritted his teeth as Sadie hit the dance floor with one of the boys from the town over. He couldn’t remember the guy’s name, but he was one of the Kendrick brothers. They were the pretty type who wore the cowboy uniform to go out but wouldn’t know what to do with a horse if you handed them the reins.
Royce drank the whiskey as soon as Seth set it in front of him, letting it burn through him. “So this is getting out. It’s not as fun as I remembered.” He was pretty sure half the town thought he and Cory had some Brokeback Mountain thing going on. But if he needed to come out to the Triple S every weekend and pick up women to prove he preferred females, he’d rather just stay at the ranch and let them talk. What did he care?
“Dude, you can sulk, you can go find another girl to dance with, or you can grab Sadie for the next song,” Cory said. “As for me, I’ve got a blonde with a low-cut top and, from the looks of it, even lower inhibitions staring at me, and I’m sick of living the monk life.” He clapped Royce on the back and then headed over to the blonde. In no time, they were plastered together on the dance floor.
Sulk. He didn’t sulk. He scanned the rest of the women in the place, determined to get Sadie out of his mind. But then he noticed her sit back down with Quinn. She leaned in and the two of them laughed. Warmth flooded his chest and he could feel himself smiling. It was nice to see her so happy. Hundreds of good memories pushed in on the corners of his mind. Since he’d dated Sadie, that meant he’d spent lots of time with Quinn, too. She was always fun, loud, and infinitely grounded, although that never stopped her from sneaking out of her house.
Sadie glanced his way, and he realized he was staring. He turned in his seat, focusing on the lights behind the bar and thinking he was completely failing at reminding himself other women besides Sadie existed. Obviously he was pretty rusty at this whole getting-out thing. There’d been a couple girls here and there, but it’d always ended with them complaining about how busy he was or how hard it was to get through to him.
Who has the time to deal with that? Ever since Dad died, he’d just worked, worked, and worked some more, so he could only imagine how much worse women would complain about his busy schedule now.
Maybe he should just go home. He was buzzing enough that he couldn’t drive—Cory had driven anyway. But all of this wasn’t worth the hassle, and if one more guy asked Sadie to dance…well, he was starting to feel like doing something stupid. Like going to ask her to dance himself.
And that would just make it too damn impossible to get the girl out of his head for good.
…
“Could you stop eye humping him and just go ask him to dance already?” Quinn tried to take a drink but was laughing too hard and ended up spilling it on her lap.
“You’re still such a lightweight,” Sadie said.
“I always hated I couldn’t put it away like you. Guys are impressed with that.”
“I’m not sure ‘impressed’ is the right word.” Sadie took another sip, enjoying the buzz starting to form. “I can’t drink like I used to, though. I spent too much time working, rehearsing, and filling every spare second with any performance I could get. Now I’m totally out of practice.”
“I’ll bet you the bill. If you go ask him to dance, I’ll pay.”
Sadie tilted her head. “There are some things money can’t buy. Humiliating myself is one of them.”
“Fifty bucks.”
“That’s just cruel. You know how broke I am.”
Quinn tapped her purple nails on the top of the table. “That’s why I’m offering. And adding in a double-dog dare you.”
“You think elementary tricks are going to work on me?” Sadie looked from Quinn to Royce and back to Quinn. The current song ended, and another one started—quick, the kind that required someone who really knew how to country dance. And Royce did. “You’re on.” She pushed out her chair, tossing Quinn a smile. “You spoiled rich girls think you can throw money at anything.”
Quinn laughed, then leaned forward and smacked her on the butt. “Go get ’em, tiger.”
Desire was pressing her forward more than the bet—and okay, the liquid courage was helping quite a bit. It didn’t keep her heart from pounding faster and harder with each step. Royce straightened, looking like he was getting ready to go.
All her words fell out of her head and all that came out was, “Uh…” She licked her lips and tried again. “Quinn says I don’t know how to country dance anymore. Care to help me prove her wrong?”
As Royce pushed in the stool he’d been sitting on, his muscles and height hit her again. “I don’t know that that’s a good idea, Sadie.”
A sharp pain shot through her chest. She’d told Quinn he’d say no, but she’d thought the bet would at least soften him, and the rejection firsthand—well, it sucked. “Oh. Right.”
“I’ll dance with you, sweetheart,” the guy sitting a few spots down said. She wasn’t really interested, but she supposed taking him up on the offer would help ease the sting. Anyway, put on a front that she wasn’t so crushed by it, at least.
“On second thought,” Royce said, wrapping his hand around hers, “I guess I can spare one dance.” He tugged her toward the floor, slid his arm around her waist, and then gripped her hand tighter, holding it up in dancing position. One eyebrow quirked a little higher than the other, and there was a challenging glint in his eyes that reminded her of all the times they used to egg each other on. “Try to keep up.”
Then they were off, feet shuffling, bodies spinning, trying to keep time with the music. She was rusty, and being drunk didn’t help. But whenever she started to go the wrong way, Royce would nudge her in the right direction. Her desire for him flared hotter as he led, always in control, his strong hands on her. Sometimes it drove her crazy when he was bossy or argumentative, but she loved when he took charge of certain things. Dancing. Kissing.
Other things.
She gulped and her breaths were coming faster and faster, and not just from the dancing.
He spun her out, then twisted her tight to his side, both of them facing forward for a couple of steps. Another spin and she was in his arms, her chest pressed against his.
The song ended, the silence suddenly so obvious after the loud, and then Royce was pulling away. “Guess you remember enough,” he said, and it took her a second to remember her excuse about how she needed to prove she could still country dance.
“Well, when you’ve got a partner who knows what he’s doing,
it helps.”
A slow song started, and the couples on the dance floor reshuffled, some coming, some going. Royce took a step away, and she caught his arm. “One more.”
“I—”
“Just one more dance.” She gave his arm a gentle squeeze. “Please.”
The tense line of his jaw softened and his fingers slowly curled around her hip. She kept the torturous space between them for a couple of eight counts, then moved in closer, until every inch possible was touching, and her hand was on his chest. With their bodies pressed together, the scent of his cologne filling her senses, and his intense gaze on her, she was back at prom all those years ago, the night he’d first told her he loved her. After the dance, they’d driven to the river, and one thing led to another. It’d been her first time, and she’d been surprised when he’d admitted it was his, too.
“Remember prom? Junior year?”
He didn’t say he did, but his eyes finally met hers, telling her that he did and giving her enough courage to go further down memory lane with him. “We fell asleep under the stars, and then we got to wake up to your dad standing over us with a shovel,” she said.
He smiled—a full, show-some-teeth smile. “I thought he was going to use that shovel to dig a hole so he could hide my body after he killed me.”
Sadie laughed. “It was a close one—I don’t think I’ve ever seen him so ominous-looking, not even with the kids from the camp. Good thing I was able to talk him down.”
“Then you somehow convinced him to not call your mom and give you a chance to sneak home.” Royce’s smile widened, bringing out that sexy groove in his cheek. “What was your line? Something about how it was Second Chance Ranch, after all, and you’d be so grateful if he gave you a chance to not be grounded for life.”
“I was surprised it actually worked,” she said.
“That’s because my dad always liked you—probably didn’t hurt that you came and helped out with the animals all the time.”
“Yeah, I was pretty proud of myself for being so convincing. Only then it ended up being all in vain, since my mom had already seen I wasn’t in my bed, called the Sakatas and found out I wasn’t staying the night with Quinn, and was about to call your parents when I showed up. Despite all the yelling, I remember thinking it was still one of the best nights of my life.”
“It was a good night,” Royce agreed, so quietly she barely heard it over the music.
She sank into his embrace a little more, feeling like there was too much space between them, even though they were connected as much as possible with clothes on. Royce swallowed hard, his eyes on hers. He leaned closer, his cowboy hat dipping down. Then, like her body was acting purely on instinct, she tipped onto her toes and kissed him.
She slid the hand she had on his chest up, behind his neck, and parted her lips. His hands pressed into her back, his tongue slipped in to meet hers, so familiar, yet new. He tasted like alcohol and mint and nights under the stars. Tingly heat traveled through her core. She could feel his body respond, knew they were making a spectacle on the dance floor, and she couldn’t bring herself to care. Happiness bubbled up, making the heat spread faster, driving her to up the intensity of the kissing.
Then suddenly he pulled away, so fast she almost fell forward. Her arms were suddenly empty. Cold.
“Damn it, Sadie. You can’t just come back and pretend everything’s the same.”
“I’m not. I get that things are different.”
“You’re right. This time, I’m not falling for it.” He spun around and walked away, leaving her standing on the dance floor alone. He pushed out the door, and she forced her feet to move toward the bar area so she could find Quinn. Her lungs felt like they’d collapsed in on themselves, and every step was a challenge now that her limbs were dragging behind her instead of working the way they should.
Quinn and Cory were standing together, watching her as she approached. Quinn stepped forward and hugged her. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.
Sadie looked to Cory, her view partially obscured by Quinn’s hair. “He’ll never forgive me, will he?”
Quinn dropped her arms and turned, looking at him like she wanted the answer, too.
Cory exhaled. “I don’t know. He still cares about you. I think he’s mad at himself for not being strong enough to stop caring. Just give it some time, and you two will figure something out.”
Quinn wrapped an arm around Sadie’s waist. “Come on. We’re going to crash at my place tonight, and there’s gonna be chocolate and more alcohol.”
“I’ll drop you guys off,” Cory said. “That should give Royce plenty of time to cool off before I go pick him up.”
Sadie let her friends lead her outside. Numb, she climbed into Cory’s truck. A hint of Royce’s cologne hung in the air, and she was torn between inhaling and getting lost in the scent and covering her nose so she could try to forget it, along with this entire night.
As hard as she tried to stop them, the tears were forming, beginning to spill over. She thought about Cory saying she and Royce would figure something out.
She didn’t want to wait for “something,” though. Because she wasn’t strong enough to stop caring, either.
Chapter Nine
Grandma was seated at the table making rolls when Sadie walked into the kitchen. The shower hadn’t really helped her pounding headache, and the light streaming from the windows was far too bright. She and Quinn had stayed up until three a.m., but her stupid internal alarm clock was so used to getting up early for work now that she hadn’t been able to sleep past seven, so she’d driven home and decided to get started on the day.
“Need some help?” Sadie asked, pulling out a chair.
Grandma pinched off a rounded piece of dough and set it next to the others. “Sure.” She pushed the bowl of dough toward Sadie. For the most part, Grandma seemed to be doing well, but she tended to overdo it and then have a hard time moving the next day. Still, no one could convince her to stop cooking, and everything she made had to be done from scratch. Food was always the way to take care of people, and taking care of people was the way she showed her love.
“You’ll never guess who was a hot topic at quilting this morning,” Grandma said.
Sadie froze, a ball of dough in her palm. Several ladies got together Sunday mornings to quilt and basically discuss everything going on in everyone else’s lives—big surprise, Patsy Higgins headed it up. “Please say it’s because I’m singing at the rodeo.”
“Oh, that was mentioned, but there was much more interest over you and Royce kissing at the Steak and Saloon.”
Next to Grandma’s perfectly shaped rolls, Sadie’s looked lumpy, but she took her time putting it just so as she tried to figure out what to say. The reminder of the kiss sent an odd mix of hot and cold through her. It’d been such a great kiss—until he’d pulled away.
“Once you started working with him, I figured it wouldn’t be long till you two were together again,” Grandma said.
I’m gonna have to quit my job. I can’t go to work and face him after that. “It was a mistake—one I wish the entire town didn’t know about. We’re not together. He’ll never forgive me for leaving, and it’s not like I can promise I’m going to stick around, even if he did.”
“Oh, honey. I know you felt like you had to go to Nashville and try to become a famous singer, and I understand. There were times I used to wonder about what I missed out on. Especially when I was younger and people liked to tell me I hadn’t really lived. I’d sometimes go to the city and be spellbound by all the stores and restaurants and flashing lights. But then I’d start to feel annoyed by how crowded and noisy it gets, and I don’t have any need for flashing lights. After a couple-day visit, all I wanted was my little house with my bed and my kitchen arranged exactly how I like it. This simple life was a good fit for me.”
“Simple? Grandma, you’ve worked harder in your life than most anyone I know. I remember how you used to get up at the crack of dawn t
o fix Grandpa and Mom and me huge breakfasts. Then you were always baking and helping out the neighbors and keeping this place clean. Not to mention how much you worked with the horses, too. You’re kind of amazing, you know.”
Grandma reached over and patted Sadie’s hand. “Thank you, dear. Now I’m old and can hardly get out of my chair most days. I hate it.”
“Give it some time. And if you need help, I’m here now.”
“I’m so glad to have you home, but you were always such a star with that voice like an angel. I hate to see you give up—I know your mama sometimes wonders what would’ve happened if she would’ve pursued her opportunities, and sometimes I feel like I made a mistake not encouraging her more. Just know that you can be anything you set your mind to. Just decide what you want most, and I have no doubt you’ll find a way to get it.”
Being back in Hope Springs was proof that it wasn’t exactly true, but she wasn’t about to tell her grandma that she was wrong—that some things were practically unattainable, to the point she wasn’t sure they were even possible. Royce was one of those things, and only time would tell if music was, too. Grandma’s pep talk got her thinking once again about what Mom had given up, and even though she knew her mom was happy, she didn’t want to live with regrets like that. The only way to ensure she never had a career in music was to quit, and she just couldn’t let go of all the hard work she’d put in to get to where she was. She had to believe that after some time to recover, she could push herself to the next level if she gave it one more shot.
The back door swung open and Grandpa poked his head into the kitchen. “Sadie. Good, you’re here. I could use a little help if you’ve got a minute.”
Grandma nodded. “Go on. I got this.”
Sadie headed outside to help Grandpa.
Grandpa handed her one end of the wire. “Guess who I picked up last night, apparently planning on walking all the way to Dixon Ranch?”
Sadie doubted he really wanted her to guess. She wanted to say it was Royce’s own damn fault for being so stubborn, but she didn’t have the energy. “You gave him a ride home, then?”