by Caroline Lee
With a start, she broke off whatever she’d been about to say, and glanced guiltily at Jace. Had she been about to say Before I leave the ranch? He knew there was no reason for her to seriously consider staying, but after that conversation they’d had at the Golden Palace on Friday night, about the future, he’d thought—
No. He’d hoped.
He’d hoped she would maybe consider sticking around. To be with him.
Now she was staring at him, those gorgeous teal-blue eyes wide, and he couldn’t read what she was thinking. Did she want to stay here? With him? She’d all but admitted she had nowhere else to go, really. Wouldn’t staying here, as his roommate, be preferable to having to buy a new car and drive off God-knows-where?
Or was all this wishful thinking on his part? Did he want her to stay so badly that he was imagining things on her part? Jace didn’t know what to do, other than to offer what she’d accept. So he put his hand over hers and liked the way she immediately flipped hers over to wrap their fingers together.
“So, hey.” When Jace looked up, Sadie was grinning hugely. “Double-weddings are legal in Idaho, you know.” She looked pointedly down at their joined hands, and then laughed and sauntered towards the back room once more, leaving them alone.
When he looked back, Dink dropped his gaze and attacked her banana split with a vengeance, blushing. Jace could guess why; Pastor Kevin had slyly mentioned something very similar when he’d seen how close the two of them were sitting that morning. Clearing his throat, Jace tried to come up with a way to put her at ease.
“I’m sure she was just joking.”
Dink shrugged, still not looking up. “She’s not. Ellie, uh…” She fiddled with her spoon. “Ellie said something similar yesterday, while you were out with Muz and Will on the porch.”
“Ellie said it? She’s the bride.”
“Yeah.” A slow smile spread across Dink’s face, and she finally peeked up at him. “I was pretty surprised myself, but she turned out to be less of a Bridezilla than I’d always assumed she’d be.”
Jace squeezed her fingers once more, then untangled their hands. “That’s because you and I have been doing all of the actual work.”
“And it turns out that you’re the Bridezilla in this equation, after all.”
Jace chuckled at her bland delivery. “Just because I—to quote your mother—‘like to have all my ducks on the same page’ doesn’t mean I’m a control freak.”
“She really said that?” At Jace’s nod, Dink burst into laughter. “That is so a Muz-ism! She’s always screwing up her idioms.”
“Yeah, I figured that out. Besides that one, last night I heard her tell your brother he needed to wake up and smell the coffee on the wall. ”
It was a good thing Dink was finished eating or she might’ve choked on her ice cream, she was giggling so hard. “What does that even mean, Muz? Honestly, she’s always saying stuff like that. And she makes up words too!”
“Are they worse than made-up idioms?”
“Way worse. She says stuff like ‘furmbolly’ or ‘stampific’ or ‘frozey tozies’… And the very worst part is that they make complete sense in context, so then you start wondering if you’re going nuts too.”
By now Jace was chuckling, remembering the little ball of energy that was Muz. “I’m looking forward to my next conversation with her, I’ll tell you that much.”
“I’ll bet she is too.” Dink wiped her eyes with her napkin, ad then threw it into her ice cream bowl. “She’s going to love having someone new to boss around and take care of and…”
He saw her eyes go wide again as she trailed off. He didn’t know what she’d been about to say, but had to admit it sounded nice. Jace took a deep breath. “I’d like that. Getting to know her, I mean. And the rest of your family.”
It wasn’t easy to say, but it was worth it to see her tentative smile. “Yeah, me too.” Maybe she did want him in her future?
Things were getting complicated, that was for sure.
Later, after they’d cleaned up their dishes, they strolled down one side of the Wild West Town’s boardwalk with his arm around her shoulders and her tucked up against him. It felt…right to be here with her. Natural. They fit together perfectly. Like two puzzle pieces that hadn’t been looking for an identical match, but for another piece that fit their dips and curves and shortcomings.
Somehow, it was getting harder and harder to convince himself hat they were just surprise roommates, just a Best Man and Maid of Honor thrown together to do a job. They were…partners. They were considering a future. They were complete opposites, and they meshed perfectly.
“Oh, look at those!”
Dink stopped and pulled out of his hold, the pressed her hands against the glass window they’d been passing. Jace glanced up at the wooden sign hanging over the door beside them: General Store. “Oh, this is the camp store, isn’t it? It used to be over in the RV Park. I guess they moved it here when the Westons decided the ranch needed a Wild West Town.”
“I don’t care…” Her voice sounded far away. “I’m in love.”
He moved up beside her to see what it was that had her so enthralled. “A pair of boots?”
Not just any pair of boots though. Even Jace could see that. These were black, with intricate designs picked out in teal stitching nearly covering them. And they gleamed from the turquoise sequins that were sewn into almost every swirl. He couldn’t imagine wearing something so garish. “They look—”
But she was gone already. The bell tinkling over the door told him she’d already gone inside, so he just sighed ruefully and followed.
Sure enough, he found her sitting in the aisle, already pulling off her shoes, the gaudy boots beside her. Jace looked around, to see if the proprietor was nearby, but no luck.
“Look! They’re even my size!” Dink was pulling on one of the teal boots, so Jace just sighed and crossed his arms over his chest.
She stood up happily and stomped around. “Oh my gosh, Jace, look at these things! Aren’t they just the most beautiful things you’ve ever seen?” The noise he made was noncommittal at best, but she didn’t seem to notice. “I can’t believe they fit so perfectly! I feel like Cinderella!”
Jace was almost embarrassed by how loud she was being with her excitement over those ugly boots. He winced and glanced around the store, glad to see the only other customers were way over in the dry goods department. Because now Dink was jumping up and down, obviously testing the fit of the shoes.
“Well? What do you think?” She pranced a little in place, obviously doing what she thought was a kind of modeling turn.
“They’re…um…” She looked so excited, and there really wasn’t any good way out of this. “They’re not really my style.”
Oh shoot. That hadn’t been the right thing to say, judging by the way her face fell. He hurried to make it better. “I mean, it’s not something I would wear, but…”
Nope, that didn’t make it better either. Her chin rose and she frowned slightly. “But it’s something I would wear.”
Seeing her standing proudly—stubbornly?—there in black leggings and a hoodie and those things, he had to admit she was right. “Yeah. Yeah, I think that’s true.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Only that they’re pretty…um…artistic.”
“They’re gorgeous!” she said, planting her hands on her hips.
He shrugged. “You don’t think they’re a little…loud? I mean, what would you do with them?”
“I’d wear them all the time! I’m in Idaho, aren’t I?” She held out one foot and beamed at it. “I don’t own a single pair of cowboy boots, and these are just the most incredibly wonderful pair I’ve ever seen, and they fit me.”
Jace winced again, then sighed. “Well, if you like them, I guess…” He still thought that they were pretty atrocious, but he also knew that she had different tastes.
“I love them.” With that declaration, she nodded forc
efully and added a glare for good measure. Then she plopped right back down in the middle of the store’s front aisle and began to tug them off. “And I don’t care if you don’t like them, Jace Cunningham. I’m going to get them and wear them everywhere, because they’re just perfect.”
“Fine.” He threw his hands up. “Fine.” It’s not like she had to worry about a dress code or anything. “How much are they?”
She was carefully placing the boots back into the box they’d been standing on in the front window, obviously planning on carrying the whole thing up to the registrar. “I don’t know, and I don’t care. I want them.”
He leaned over to check the box. “Seventy-five dollars?” He had no idea how much women’s shoes cost, but that seemed pretty expensive for a pair of novelty boots.
She turned the box around so she could see the tag, then snorted. “I wish. No,” she said as she scrambled to her feet and shoved her feet back into her old shoes, “These are designer, Jace. See?” She pointed to the label, like that would mean something to him. While he took immaculate care and great pride in his own wardrobe, he knew nothing about women’s fashions. “These are seven hundred and fifty.”
“Dollars?” He couldn’t help that he sounded like he was choking—he was choking. “Someone would pay seven hundred and fifty dollars for those…things?”
“I would.”
Oh boy, he could tell from the stubborn tilt of her chin he’d gone too far, but Jace couldn’t help it. That was a lot of money. He held his hands up in a pacifying gesture. “Okay, okay. Listen, they’re not exactly my style, but I can see you really like them.”
“They’re my style!”
“Yeah, I can see that. All I’m saying is that’s a lot of money to spend on shoes.” Actually, quality men’s shoes cost about the same, but his were practical for his lifestyle, going from business to pleasure seamlessly. He wore them every day. These things were just for show, weren’t they?
But she moved the box until she was hugging it protectively against her chest. “I know that, Jace. But—”
“What about Wanda?” He was kind of proud he remembered her car’s name.
She blinked and frowned a little. “What?”
“Your car, Wanda. Dead, right? You’re going to have to buy a new car, is what you told me just the other day.” They’d talked about it on the ride home from the Chinese restaurant when he’d been trying to distract himself from her promise to try the “kissing experiment” again. It hadn’t really worked—nothing could distract him from her kisses.
“So?” Her chin went mulishly up.
“Well, I just think it’s irresponsible of you to spend seven hundred and fifty dollars on a pair of boots when you should be saving for a car.”
He could see her jaw tighten, and he knew that she was angry. “Irresponsible? You think I’m irresponsible?”
“I think you’re impulsive and you don’t really think things through, and that’s what you’re doing here, isn’t it? You should be saving that money.”
“I knew you didn’t think very much of me, Jace, but insults aren’t—”
“I’m not insulting you!” This wasn’t anything he hadn’t said to her—about her—in the past. “I’m just stating fact. You’re rash, and I think spending so much money on boots is pretty darn rash, when you’ve got to buy a car soon.”
Were those tears in her eyes? Jace wondered what had gone wrong. He hadn’t said anything new. “Dink, I’m just saying spending that much on shoes is irresponsible.”
“I hear what you’re saying, Jace. I just can’t believe it.”
Exasperated, he asked, “What? What am I saying?”
“It’s not what you’re saying, it’s how you’re saying it!”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means that you and I obviously value different things!”
He threw up his hands. “That’s for sure. I don’t value ugly cowboy boots that cost a month’s salary for some people!”
“I’m not talking about the boots, Jace! Well, I am.” She hugged the box closer, and he hated the way a fat tear rolled down her cheek. He’d made her cry, and he didn’t know why. “But the boots are just…just a symptom. I value happiness and—and—and excitement, and…I dunno, spontaneity. And you!” She sniffed. “You can’t even understand that, can you? Much less find value in it!”
He ran his hand across his hair, unsure where this conversation had gone. “I honestly don’t know what you’re talking about, Dink.”
“I know!” The words came out as a sob, and he wanted to wrap his arms around her, but knew she would push him away. And he didn’t think he could stand being pushed away.
“That’s the problem!” She took a stumbling step backwards, shaking her head. “You don’t see value in the same things I do, Jace. You’re all schedules and plans and—and—and…accounting. You don’t know how to just let go and live in the moment!”
“With boots?” What the heck was she talking about?
“With me!” She sobbed, thrusting the boot box into his arms—and that’s when he knew he’d lost her.
All he felt as she ran out the door of the General Store—the little bell’s tinkle mocking them both—was emptiness. And fear.
Oh no. Oh no. It was all Dink could think, huddled in the big bed in the back bedroom of the tiny house. I’ve lost him.
Her sobs had subsided by the time she’d reached the house, out of breath and cold inside, and somehow so much less than she’d been even an hour ago. That wonderful feeling of being with Jace—sitting beside him in church, laughing with him over ice cream—had been replaced with an emptiness she couldn’t begin to understand.
And then, when she’d flopped down on the bed—on the side , she’d come to think of as “hers”, even though he hadn’t shared the bed since they’d cleaned off his the morning after their kiss—the tears had come again. Great, heaving, racking sobs which left her feeling even emptier, if that was possible.
She’d taken Hagrid out to play with, but even watching him nuzzle around in the blankets for grubs hadn’t made her heart any less heavy. All she could think of was the look of confusion on Jace’s face, as she realized he really didn’t understand what she was trying to tell him.
Dink groaned and flopped against the pillow. Did she understand what she’d been trying tell him? She thought so, but it was just so hard to articulate! Another sob caught her by surprise, and she forced herself to take—and hold—a deep breath.
She and Jace were different, she knew that. She’d known that from the beginning. At first, those differences had been infuriating and difficult, but then…then, as they’d gotten to know one another better, those differences hadn’t seemed to matter so much after all. Like, maybe, even though they were so different, they could still be good together. Work well together, live well together…love one another?
She’d thought it, sure, and had even thought that Jace’s difference from her was what made her love him. He was just so steady and straight-laced, and maybe, after a long string of artist boyfriends, that’s what she’d needed.
She’d loved Magnus at one point, but that had been spontaneous and temporary. What she felt for Jace was different; it felt…fuller. Longer. She’d known him for such a short time, but knew loving him wasn’t impulsive, wasn’t brash. It was right and true and based in mutual respect. At least, that’s what she believed up until this afternoon.
Jace was perfect for her.
Too bad she wasn’t perfect for him.
The tears began again, and she realized that she’d soaked through the pillowcase, so she flipped it over to the dry side in disgust. Luckily, she didn’t have to be quiet, because he hadn’t followed her back. Part of her had desperately hoped he would, hoped he would chase after her and apologize. But she was also glad she had the house to herself and could cry as loud as she wanted for now. Later, when he came home, she’d try her best to be mature and stable.
Bu
t for now, she cried. How could she fall in love with a man who thought so poorly of her? Who thought she was irresponsible? Who was just so sure, so positive her way was wrong and his way was right? Who didn’t see even the teeniest speck of value in the way she lived her life?
Oh, Dink knew she could be spontaneous, and wanting those gorgeous boots had been pretty darn spontaneous. But they would’ve made her happy…wouldn’t they? They were stunning and fit her perfectly, and she loved them.
But they were seven hundred and fifty dollars. Money she should be saving for a new used car, right?
She groaned again, hating Jace and hating the fact that she knew, deep down, he was right. She should be saving that money for a car, and it probably was irresponsible to throw it away on a pair of boots.
And that made her cry even harder. She was angry at him for being right, and even angrier that she was able to understand his point of view, when he couldn’t understand hers. Why should she be the one to concede, when he hadn’t? It wasn’t fair that she could find value in his thoughts and feelings, and he couldn’t in hers.
That’s when the emptiness in her stomach caused her to double over in pain. I hate him. I love him. Why can’t he love me?
Surely loving someone meant finding value in their opinions? In the things they valued? She wanted those shoes, and hated that he’d called her irresponsible…but she could admit that maybe he was right too.
How come he couldn’t do the same for her?
Eventually, Dink calmed down enough to unlock the bedroom door, and sit quietly on the edge of the bed. She went through her arguments in her head, trying to not just understand, but to express. She even woke Hagrid back up and practiced her explanation on him, in a whisper. He was unimpressed, but she hoped Jace would be.
By dinnertime—not that she was hungry at all—she was fairly certain she could explain her pain in a clear, concise manner. She’d rehearsed how to describe her original upset—those stupid, wonderful boots—and how his reaction had made her feel. As long as he didn’t interrupt her, she hoped to be able to make him understand why she’d been so hurt…and why she was still hurt.