“Hey. Sorry if I got a little carried away.”
“It’s fine.”
Fine? It was way, way more than just fine.
“Riss?”
“Yeah.” She lifted her head and glanced at the clock across from her. “I’m a sucky hostess.” She stood and walked right past him to set her cup in the sink. “Coffee’s gone, but do you want a glass of water or something?”
“Water? What the fuck? I want you to be happy you were here with me when I had this life-changing moment.”
Riss’s gaze finally connected with his.
But he didn’t see joy or pride or even amusement. All he saw was anger.
“A life-changing moment, Ike? That’s what that was?”
“Yes.” He paused and studied her, confused as fuck.
“So tell me . . . how are you going to change your life?”
“What do you mean?”
“Now that you’ve had this great epiphany, what’s the first thing you’re gonna do when you leave here?”
“I don’t know. I’ll probably go to the grocery store.”
“And tomorrow? What will you do differently tomorrow than you did today?”
He frowned at her. “What’s with the third degree?”
She shrugged. “You’re the one who called this a ‘life-changing moment.’ I’m just asking when you intend to carry it out.”
“Intend,” he repeated. “I just acknowledged to myself—and to you—what I’d been afraid to admit out loud. Can’t that be enough?”
“No. Acknowledging it is not the same as acting on it. Not at all.”
“So I’m supposed to know what action to take right fucking now?”
“Ab-so-fucking-lutely you’re supposed to know that right fucking now. If you don’t, then it’s not a goddamned ‘life-changing moment,’ is it?”
Who was this woman sucking away his joy with every barbed word?
“If you get up tomorrow and do the exact same thing that you’ve been doin’ the last week, or month, or year, or decade, your life doesn’t change. And I don’t know anyone that needs a complete life overhaul and an honest wake-up call more than you do, Ike Palmer!”
Riss had yelled that last part . . . and that flustered the hell out of him. He’d seen her annoyed, exasperated, mad, but he’d never seen her like this: her entire being pulsing with fury.
“Whoa. Where is this anger comin’ from?”
“From me! From here!” She smacked herself in the stomach with her good hand. “My gut instinct is never wrong. And right now it’s telling me that you don’t have any intention of ever following through and making this be the life-changing event you’re bragging that it is!”
“Fuck that, Riss. And fuck you. You don’t know . . . you’ve got no right to assume anything about me, or what my future actions will be.”
“Future actions,” she said harshly. “That’s because you have no fucking concept of the phrase ‘immediate action,’ because you’ve never in your life had to act on instinct. You’ve never been forced to make a decision you might regret.”
“I just told you that I got fired from bein’ a cattle broker!”
“While that sucks, and I hate that you felt the need to hide it from everyone, how did getting fired impact your life?”
Ike found it difficult to speak he was so goddamned mad. “Impact my life? It changed everything in my life.”
“You lost your job. But did you lose your truck?”
“No, but—”
“Did you have to sell it because you couldn’t afford the payment, gas or insurance?”
“No.”
“Did you lose your house?”
“You know I didn’t.”
“I also know you didn’t have to put it on the market and sell it at a loss and move in with your sister.”
“What does—”
“Did you lose your health insurance?”
Since she knew the answer, he didn’t respond.
“Did you lose your retirement fund? Did you have to cash it out to put food on the table? Or pay medical bills?”
He scowled at her. “No.”
“So essentially, nothin’ changed when you got fired except you weren’t getting a regular paycheck.”
Breathe, man, just breathe.
“And you didn’t have to take immediate action either, did you? You weren’t at McDonald’s the next week applying as a fry cook because you didn’t have the cash to pay your cell phone bill.”
“Do all of these sharp-edged questions have a point?”
“Yes. You claim you lost everything. But all you did was give yourself the luxury of more time—a year and a half—to actually fail.”
“Jesus Christ. I didn’t expect you—of all people—to be judgmental. Especially when I opened myself—”
“Yes, you opened yourself up to this! You wanted me to pat you on the back and congratulate you for finally admitting that you were depressed because you got fired. Yay! Good for you, now you know why you’ve been sitting on the couch the past year and a half. Yay! You’re human and can shove all that macho bullshit aside and accept you lost a piece of yourself when you lost the job. But goddammit, Ike, you took the path of least resistance when you went all in with JSC. Which might’ve been a good choice had you not doomed it from the start with your apathy.”
“My apathy.”
“Apathy, indifference, laziness.”
Laziness?
Blood roared in his ears.
The silence stretched tighter and tighter with each second, like a cheap rubber band pulled past the breaking point.
He managed to say, “You think I’m . . . lazy?”
Riss’s cheeks turned bright red. But she kept her eyes locked to his and her chin up when she said, “Yes.”
Ike’s entire world tilted. No one had ever said that to him. Called him that. He’d never been that.
Lazy.
Obviously Riss was off her fucking rocker with jealousy that she had to work three times as hard as he did for half as much.
Obviously she was grasping at straws to make him feel like shit.
“Ike,” she said softly.
He looked up from staring at the tips of his boots to see her standing closer.
When she tried to put her hand on his chest, he flinched and said, “Don’t.”
“Please listen to me.”
“Are you gonna apologize?”
A slight shake of her head. Then, “But I will clarify.”
“I know the goddamned definition of that word, Riss. Ain’t a whole lot you need to clarify for me.”
When he tried to retreat, she grabbed a fistful of his shirt. “You need to hear it in the context I intended it.”
Ike barked a laugh. “Are you seriously tryin’ to tell me I took ‘you’re lazy’ out of fuckin’ context?”
“Yes.”
Jesus. Why was he still here listening to this?
“We’ve known each other for two years. I’m not talkin’ about hating each other in passing or my misperception of you because of the shit that went down with Lloyd. I’m talkin’ about the two years since we first had to interact with each other.”
“Your point?”
“I didn’t know you as Ike Palmer the cattle broker. I’ve only known you as Ike Palmer, a co-owner in JSC.”
“A lazy guy with the luxury of time on his hands to fail,” Ike said sarcastically.
“So let me repeat that all together. I’ve only known you as Ike Palmer, an apathetic co-owner in JSC.”
He wanted to protest that he’d always been so much more than that.
But how would she know that? She could only judge him on how he presented himself now.
He couldn’t deny Riss’s point about context.
In the short amount of time she’d known him, he had just floated along. At first he’d been gung ho about cold-calling rodeo promoters and committees, anxious to line up events and prove their stock could go horn to horn with any other stock contractor’s. In hindsight, the constant stream of rejections had weighed on him. Because in all his previous years as a salesman, he’d never failed.
So it’d gotten easier not to do anything. No one checked up on him. Ike told himself he was waiting for Hugh to return and really take charge. He convinced himself he wasn’t a self-starter and that had somehow become a free pass to explain his failure.
Failure he’d blame on Hugh being in Cali, or the shitty economy, or entrenched stock-contracting companies not giving them a chance—or a combination of all three. His feelings about his position at JSC ran the gamut from resentment to guilt to who-gives-a-damn. Nothing about the business had ever given him a sense of purpose or even a glimmer of happiness.
Riss hadn’t come up with those theories in a fit of nastiness to hurt him.
For the past two years she’d seen him in action—or inaction. For two weeks she’d seen exactly how he spent his days . . . wallowing in apathy.
Fuck. Me.
I am lazy.
I am lazy.
I am lazy.
No matter where he put the emphasis the context didn’t change.
I am lazy.
He took two steps back from her.
“Ike?”
“Give me a minute.”
She nodded.
He turned and faced the living room. Bright colors, full of life and hope and promise, all mixed together to create a beautiful kind of chaos.
Then all of a sudden the space closed in on him and he couldn’t breathe.
In two steps he sailed out the door.
Air, sunshine and wind greeted him. An icy breeze eddied around him, both bracing and breath stealing.
Kind of like Riss.
Tough love. She said she’d give it to him when he needed it—but least expected it.
Yeah, she’d done that all right.
He laced his hands together and set them on his head. Restless energy had him walking in circles in front of the carport as his thoughts reordered themselves, morphing from indecipherable to scrambled to circular to linear.
Riss’s accusations found their way into his head too. You’ve never in your life had to act on instinct. You’ve never been forced to make a decision you might regret.
Maybe the time had come.
He dropped his arms and moved his head side to side.
Standing in front of Riss’s fleet, he noticed one was missing.
Footsteps crunching on the gravel stopped beside him. “Hey. You all right?”
“Yeah. Where’s the bull hauler?”
“I sold it.”
Shocked, he faced her. “What?”
“I sold it.”
“Why?”
“Because I needed the money. Bein’ out of work with bills piling up . . . I’ve had to make some hard decisions. That piece of equipment has always gotten the least amount of use so it was the first to go.”
“Riss. I’m sor—”
“Don’t be. It’ll keep me in the black for a few more months. But JSC will have to hire someone else as I’m officially out of the bull-hauling business.”
Ike watched the dead grass blowing in front of the metal carport supports. “So that’s it?”
“What?”
“I have an epiphany, which you immediately dismiss. Then I learn you’re outta the stock-hauling business, which means we’re no longer coworkers. So I hop in my truck and you wave good-bye with your cast?”
“Is this where you demand a hug?”
“Maybe. It feels like an ending.”
“It is. But we’ll see each other.” She smirked. “We’ll always have the memories of our time as roomies.”
“God, I hated that.”
“Seriously? It was your idea that I stay with you!” She whapped him on the arm.
Ike caught her by the wrist and moved in front of her. “Lemme put this in context, sweet cheeks. I hated that you were injured. I hated that we fought like siblings. I hated the way you left.” He set her palm on his chest. “I hated the promise I’d made not to kiss you again.”
“You did?”
His eyes searched hers. “Wanna know the real reason I never made a move on you?”
“Because you were . . . lazy?”
His jaw dropped.
“I was kidding!” She paused. “Too soon?”
“Ya think?”
“Sorry. I’ll be serious now.”
“I didn’t make a move on you because it’d matter too much if you rejected me.”
Riss dug her fingers into his pectorals. “Your heart raced when you said that.”
“Because it’s hard as fuck telling you this, when I’m still smarting from when you told me earlier what you really thought of me.”
“Funny, I don’t remember admitting out loud that I wanted to see this hot cowboy face smirking between my tits as I’m riding you like a fucking pony.”
Cock . . . instantly hard.
Hopes he hadn’t fucked this up . . . definitely soaring.
He placed a lingering kiss on her forehead. “Thank you for giving me the kick in the ass I needed.”
“Seems weird to say you’re welcome . . . but you’re welcome.”
She shivered and he realized she’d chased after him without putting on a coat. Instead of harping on her for being forgetful, he stepped back and removed his jacket. He settled it on her shoulders and tucked it around her.
Seeing her odd expression, he said, “You looked cold.”
“Now you’ll be cold.”
“Nah, I’ll be fine.”
“Come inside and—”
“Warm myself by your fake fire?” He grinned. “Normally I’d be all over that seduction ploy, but darlin’, I’m gonna have to take a rain check.”
“Wait . . . you’re leaving?”
“My to-do list just got hella long.” Ike traced the curve of her cheek. “See, this smart, sexy woman I’m crazy about told me that life-changing events require immediate action, so I’m setting things in motion.”
“Ike—”
He stopped her protest with a kiss. Not one filled with hunger—he’d save those for later. For now, he kissed her softly, sweetly. With care and gratitude and an unspoken promise of more to come.
When she trembled in his arms, he held her tighter until she settled.
Then he whispered, “This isn’t an ending, Larissa. This is the beginning.” He kissed her one last time and said, “I’ll be in touch soon.”
Chapter Eighteen
“What in the hell did you do to Ike?”
Startled, Riss glanced up from her phone.
Three big guys fanned out in front of her. Tobin, Renner and Abe Lawson.
“I haven’t heard from Ike in over a week.” Her gaze moved across each of their faces. “Is he all right?”
“No, he’s not all right,” Abe said tersely. “He’s lost his motherfucking mind.”
A loud whistle pierced the air and Susan Williams, co-owner of Buckeye Joe’s, leaned across the bar. “Riss. You okay?”
“Everything’s fine,” Renner assured her.
“Not from where I’m standing. I see three men trying to intimidate one woman, and fellas, that don’t fly in my bar. Don’t matter how long you’ve been comin’ in here or how much money you spend, I will throw your asses out if you don’t back off. You hear me?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Tobin said. “They’ll take it down a notch. And my wife will be joining us shortly.”
The man tossed in “my wife” every chance he got. I
t was sweet.
But there wasn’t anything sweet about the look on Tobin’s face right now. That got Riss’s back up. “Speaking of your better half . . . she’s the one I’m supposed to be meeting here. So maybe you oughta tell me if Jade is in on whatever this is too.”
Guilt flushed Tobin’s cheeks.
Bingo. Jade had no idea what was going on.
Before Riss could really let Tobin have it, Renner jumped in.
“We need to talk and I’d rather do it privately. Please. This is important.”
“Fine.” Riss picked up her drink and slid off the barstool. “Lead the way.”
Renner chose the round table for six in the back and pulled out a chair for Riss.
Susan arrived with bottles of beer almost before the guys were seated. Being a regular had its perks.
Abe Lawson sat across from Riss and gave her the stink-eye as he swigged his beer.
“This ain’t much of a happy hour with the three of you glaring at me,” she said coolly.
“Sorry. It’s just . . .” Renner adjusted his cowboy hat. “So you’ve had no contact with Ike at all for over a week?”
“No. I did two short runs and a longer one with one of Tito’s new drivers. But I had my phone with me the entire time and Ike didn’t call or text. Has something happened?”
“It’s been a helluva busy week for Ike. He called Hugh and quit the stock-contracting business. Then he called me and said the same thing, reminding me that someone else would have to take over his daily livestock checks. When I asked what was goin’ on with him, he said something about havin’ an epiphany.”
Oh fuck.
“Would you know anything about that?” Abe asked. “Or why he’d suggest me’n the guys—guys he’s been friends with since grade school—find another cattle broker because he was done with that too.”
Ike had taken the immediate action suggestion to heart. He’d completely upended his life.
Riss was as shocked as she was proud.
“We’re all wondering what had sent him off the deep end, but Ike ain’t answering anyone’s calls. Imagine my surprise when Holt Andrews called me.” Abe pinned her with a look. “You know where this is headed, right?”
Did you lose your house?
Crap, crap, crap. Her pride slowly slid into panic. They hadn’t talked specifics about what his immediate actions would entail, because he’d immediately gone into action.
Racked and Stacked Page 20