by Taylor Hart
“No, I have to admit I’m fascinated by you, Texas Waters.”
After of moment of searching her eyes, he nodded, seeming to make a decision. “Okay, I’ll tell you then. I’ve actually been toying with making this into a song because it is a good story.” He winked at her again.
She grinned.
“I had nothing. Nothing. At that point, I was a mental case because of everything that had happened to me in the war. Then the woman I thought I was building a life with pulled the rug from beneath me.” He shook his head and laughed.
“What’d you do, Texas?”
“I had a letterman ring from high school. I pulled it out of my drawer. It was the only thing that might have been worth a little bit of money. I took it to the pawn shop, and I searched the aisles until I saw it.”
“What?”
He cocked a grin to the side. “Ruby.”
“Ruby? A ring?”
“No. Ruby was my first guitar.” He smiled and leaned back. “My daddy had been pressuring me to get on with the police, become a cop like him. That wasn’t for me. I hated superiors, and the bureaucratic bull of the military. I didn’t want to be perpetually stuck someplace I had to write three reports if I wanted to take a piss. They had a night job taking 911 calls open. There was a lot of dead time too. I made a deal with old Morris Yates. Since I was pretty much the only one there all night, I could bring my guitar.”
Turning to Liberty, he saw a mystified look on her face.
“You taught yourself to play on the night shift?”
Pride filled him. “Yes.” He nodded. He liked this story. The story was worth a song, wasn’t it? “Sweetheart, I taught myself more than that. I decided I would study poetry.”
“Poetry?"
He nodded. "Shakespeare, Yates, and Byron. After intense study, I took it country.”
The mystical look grew even more on her face. “You taught yourself to write songs in the middle of the night sitting at a police station answering calls?”
He nodded, feeling satisfaction weave through him. “Darn tootin’.”
Liberty gave him a blank look.
“That’s Southern for yes.”
She sputtered out a laugh, shaking her head. Admiration shone in her eyes. “That’s incredible.”
He realized he liked that look on her face. More than he probably should.
Lifting his hand slowly, he gently touched the side of her cheek. “I like the way you’re looking at me right now.” He pulled his hand back. “Go ahead and share that story. I’ll see about writing a song to go with it.”
Her laugh sounded a bit childlike with delight. “That would be amazing. This article could be—”
“Not such a waste of your time,” he said quickly, holding her eyes.
Letting out a breath, she laughed. “I—”
He put up a hand, not making her eat her words. “Hey, opportunity comes when you’re least expecting it.”
Their eyes met and held, and Texas wondered what else was inside that little pixie head. She’d gotten him to talk, and he wanted to know more about her. “Are you related to the Wright brothers?”
She shrugged. “Yep.”
Unable to stop his amazement, he laughed.
“What?”
He stood and quickly picked her up. “Flying’s in your blood, Liberty. That’s your problem with Hale.”
She frowned. “You're not even making sense. I never said I have a problem with Hale.”
“Did too.” He copied her accent again.
This comment only elicited a glare from her. “Did not.”
He scowled at her, feeling more accusing than he probably should of with some reporter doing a story on him. He couldn’t stop himself. He was invested.
“No, I didn’t.”
He sighed, gingerly putting her down next to the motorcycle. “You need a man who can help you learn to fly.”
“And that’s you?”
His heart raced. “Could be.”
Looking unimpressed, she sighed. “Man, your ego.”
He let out a laugh. “Montana has a joke: Texas’s ego is bigger than Montana’s.” He winked at her. He tried to look humble and knew he’d failed when she let out an irritated sigh.
He laughed again and got on the motorcycle, waiting for her. “I never said it was a good joke.”
Tentatively, she put her injured ankle around the bike. She used him for leverage to pull herself on. “Maybe it’s one of those ‘you have to be there’ kind of jokes.”
Startled by her sarcasm, he let out a loud, whooping laugh and turned back to look at her.
She wiggled her eyebrows at him and leaned into him, putting her arms around his waist. “Let’s do this.”
There was no pretending he didn’t like the feel of her against him. Starting it up, he hollered out. “Ready to fly, Liberty Bell?”
Snuggling into his back, she said, “Not too fast.”
Taking off, he let out another whoop. “Hold on tight!”
Chapter 13
Over the next couple of days, Liberty fell into an easy pattern with Texas.
They had breakfast in the morning together after he’d already been up running and done his lifting.
The band worked on laying down tracks with him in the afternoon, and she worked on her article.
Her ankle began to feel a lot better, and she began to be able to walk more fully again.
Dinners with Texas were a highlight. She attempted to cook once, but they ended up ordering pizza, and he gave her a nice amount of grief about it. So he cooked.
Check-ins with her mother were going well. She was happy Liberty was staying at the house and had such a great opportunity for the up close and personal article.
There were also multiple conversations with Hale about the upcoming engagement party.
Thursday, while Texas was spending a long time in the studio, she got into an argument with Hale over some couple who his parents wanted to invite. The couple were also friends with Liberty’s parents, but she didn’t like the guy. He’d gone out with her father on assignment.
“Hale, I don’t want to deal with that.”
“Liberty," he said very clearly, enunciating each syllable of her name. He’d always called her by her full name. "You’re not thinking about this clearly. They are a good contact for my firm.”
It was unreasonable to Hale that she would have emotional issues with the guy who made it home when her father didn’t. Rationally, she knew it wasn’t Steven Henning’s fault that he survived when her father died, but she couldn’t stand being around him. Why couldn’t Hale just go with her on this?
As they fought about it, the engagement party felt too close to her, which was funny because she was so far removed from it. Maybe it was something Texas had said to her about Hale being an idiot for letting her go to Nigeria.
How long had it been since she’d really shared much about her life with Hale? And she was going to marry him?
Hale asked, “Liberty, what’s bothering you?”
It took her by surprise that he even noticed. But it shouldn’t have. They’d been friends their whole lives.
“Nothing,” she said. What was wrong with her?
The last couple of days, she had been so submersed in Texas’ world. Coming back to hers felt weird.
“Liberty, look, we don’t have to keep the Hennings on the invitation list.”
“Really?” she asked hopefully.
“Really.” He was quiet for a beat then asked again, “What’s wrong?”
“I told you about that conference I’m going to when I’m done with this article, right?” Her palms went sweaty.
“Oh.” He sounded taken off guard. “Right. Yes, I think you did. You’ll be back for our engagement party though, right?”
“Hale … I think we need to push back the party.”
“No.” He said in a clipped voice. “Liberty, this has been the plan for us. And I know you’re worried it won’
t be enough. But I love you. We have the same history, the same friends, we come from the same kind of people. We’ll have summers at the beach. We’ll have our work.”
This was her chance. “Speaking of work, that conference I’m going to. I probably should tell you it’s in Nigeria.”
“What?”
“The conference is in Nigeria.”
He let out a sputtering laugh. “Liberty, you’d told me about those people and your latest cause, but you never told me you wanted to go there.”
“My latest cause?” Now she was getting pissed. "What do you mean?”
“Liberty, you know how you get.”
Her heart pounded into her chest, and blood whooshed through her. “How do I get?”
“Liberty, I had lunch with your mother last week, and she told me about this article. Told me about your deal that you would say yes at the engagement party.” He sighed. “Liberty, I don’t want you to get engaged to me because of your mother. I want you to get engaged to me because you love me.”
She almost dropped the phone, her hand began shaking so badly. “I never made that deal. I said I would write a good article on Texas Waters and she said she would send me to Nigeria. That’s all.” A fool. She’d been a complete fool to trust her mother. “I have to go,” she said, her voice even. It was steadier than it had been the entire conversation.
“Wait, don’t—”
She hung up, closing her eyes for a second. Then flashed them open. She stood in the dining room. It had become her office of sorts. When she wanted to, she would go and watch the band, do interviews when members of the band were available, but then she’d come back and work. It was peaceful. She stared out the window, seeing the sun coming down against the Tetons. It was beautiful, but inside, she wasn’t at peace at all.
Immediately, she thought of Texas’ motorcycle. She was churned up inside, thinking of Hale and her mother.
How, why, had she believed her mother? And why in the world had her mother put her through all this rigmarole when she was just going to renege on the deal?
She was an idiot.
“You okay?”
She jumped, startled by Texas’ presence.
Glancing back at him, she saw him in the arched doorway between the kitchen and the dining room, wearing his typical jeans and t-shirt. His mussed up blond hair and his facial hair that was grown out more than usual showed he’d been working hard the last couple days.
Now, she was embarrassed. “How long have you been standing there?” She kept her eyes focused on the mountains. They’d fallen into this companionable living arrangement. It was something like friendship. Well, mostly, unless she counted all the flirting.
He hadn’t stopped the flirting.
And the laughing. They’d begun to make each other laugh a lot as he told her stories of growing up, and he’d demanded the same from her.
Still, he felt like a friend. Unfortunately, she didn’t have many of those. She tended to find it easier to be stuck in her head about an article. In college, it’d been easy to be consumed with her classes, and her friendships kind of revolved around whatever classes she’d been in.
And Hale.
And her mother.
Her world had felt full.
Until she’d gotten to know Texas.
Now, it felt different. She didn’t know how to handle it because she suddenly realized she’d been letting other people run her life.
“Been here long enough.” He sauntered into the dining room and moved to the window next to her. He held out a glass of water for her.
Taking it, she looked at him, but he’d already turned to face the sunset.
Man, he was beautiful. It annoyed her, how attracted she was to him. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. She took a sip of water and tried not to think about what Hale had just told her.
Of course, it was Texas, so he wouldn’t not talk. “So Hale’s not behaving.”
The way he said it was like she was Hale’s mother and Texas his father and they were talking about a child.
She didn’t want to discuss it with him. “Guess so.”
“Well, take a whip to him. Yep, have him pluck a willow and lay it on the boy’s backside.” He tsked his tongue and took a sip, a smile playing at his lips.
Staring at him, she realized he’d been raised rough.
He turned to her. “What?”
“That’s your advice? Spank him?”
He shook his head. “No, whip him.”
Letting out a breath, she turned and put her glass on the table, completely exasperated. “You would whip a child?”
Turning slowly, and giving her a crazy look, he put his glass down. “No, but I would whip a man.” He winked at her and shrugged. “Wouldn’t mind getting a whipping, either. If it was from you.”
There he went, flirting again.
“Stop it.” Her tone came across more upset with him than she should be.
Lifting his hands, he narrowed his eyes at her. “What are we talking about?”
“You believe in spanking children? Or whipping them?”
Slowly, he lowered his hands. “Is this what we’re talking about?”
“Do you?” A ton of energy filled her, and she knew it would come out on Texas.
He pointed at her. “I do believe in spanking children. But not in whipping them. Yes, I was whipped.”
“Spanking hurts them. Studies show it’s psychologically damaging to them.”
Texas seemed to evaluate her. “Doesn’t everything psychologically damage people?” He gestured to her. “You, taking out your frustrations at Hale on me right now, don’t you think you’re psychologically damaging me?” He cocked an eyebrow at her.
All the breath went out of her.
He shook his head and then gave her a look that said he pitied her. “I don’t know what that fight was about, but I gather you’re pretty ticked.” His eyes were fierce, bold, and dangerous.
Deep waters.
They both stood there locked in a stare down. Her ankle ached, but she ignored it.
She blinked. “Please, just go.”
For a second, he didn’t move. Then he shrugged and turned. “Fine." He blew out a breath. “I was going to see if you wanted to go out with the band for dinner—”
“No.” She cut him off. No. She wouldn’t be eating. She wanted to punch something.
“Okay.” He went to the kitchen and pulled keys off the wall. “I’ll be back in a little bit.”
She didn’t turn to say goodbye to him as he went to the garage and opened it. She moved to her place at the table where her research was spread all over. She’d printed various versions of the article she was going to have Texas look over, but now …
Angrily, she pushed all the papers to the floor and screamed down at them. She stomped her foot and felt tears welling into her eyes.
She’d been so stupid!
Suddenly, she bent and picked up the papers and began ripping them, shredding them and throwing them.
Her mother hated disorder even worse than she did. She had a clump of papers, and she ripped them harder, loving the release of tearing something apart.
She cursed then cursed some more thinking how stupid she had been. Hot tears ran down her cheeks.
What was her life?
What?
She thought of what Texas said about flying.
It was true.
Her life had been this …
What?
Everything she did was driven by her need to stay connected to her father, like reporting.
Everything else was a result of her mother’s coercion.
Now, she saw this jail sentence looming in front of her with a marriage to Hale.
Liberty bolted to her room, slipped on her running shoes, and ran back to the kitchen to grab the keys to the street bike.
She’d never driven one before. But she could do it.
She needed to fly!
“Are you doing okay?”
&nb
sp; She jumped and even squeaked in surprise.
Sloane Kent was just coming in from the sliding doors that connected the deck to the music studio. “Sorry. Just was watching you through the windows, and you looked upset.” He grinned at her.
Sloane was cute. Not in the Texas Waters built, militant way. No, Sloane had the kind of smile that would melt hearts, a light Southern accent, and a sweetly flirtatious side. He was soft spoken, and he played a mean guitar.
“Sorry, I was just finishing up laying down a track with one of the producers, and I saw you through the window.” He repeated when she didn’t reply immediately.
Giving him an up and down and knowing Texas would pretty much kill someone when he found out, she asked. “Sloane, do you know how to ride a motorcycle?”
Chapter 14
Texas had gotten all the way to Main Street when he just had that feeling. It was a gut feeling that something wasn’t right. He’d gotten them since he was little and they’d always proved to be true.
He was hungry, starving. He hadn’t eaten since early in the morning, but he’d learned a long time ago to listen to these kinds of feelings.
He’d seen the look on Liberty’s face. Something was not right. Of course, he’d heard the fight, but he’d seen that pretty face.
It’d looked a bit dangerous.
The thought made him smile because he liked how fiery she could be. Grinning to himself, he turned the car around.
It wouldn’t do to sit here and eat and not be able to think about anything except her. It drove him a bit crazy he was thinking about her like this. Like he cared. This was why he purposely didn’t get close to people.
Driving back to the house, he was going up the driveway when he saw the garage door open and her straddling his motorcycle.
What the?
He cut the engine and got out, glaring at Sloane and feeling a bit jealous. “What are you doing?” He directed the question to Sloane.
Sloane looked caught and turned to face him.
Quickly, she jumped in. “Sorry, I wanted to borrow your motorcycle.”
Her face burned red. The bike was too big for her. “I …” Her voice faltered.
“Sorry man,” Sloane said, and Texas could tell Sloane did not want to get in the middle of whatever was happening. Sloane walked to him and dropped the keys into his hands. “I tried to talk her out of it.”