by T. J. Kline
Nothing was ever going to be the same between her and Chase. She had allowed the line between friends and lovers to be crossed. Hell, they hadn’t just crossed it, they’d practically erased it, and there was no going back. She wondered how to handle the situation now, especially when she wasn’t sure she’d made the right decision.
A knock on the front door had her leaping from the bed and pulling a T-shirt over her head. She jerked a pair of running shorts up her thighs as she stumbled down the hall.
“Bailey, you best get that little fanny of yours up and answer this door. Mr. Carlisle is already staring through his windows at me and he’s looking like he’s going to jump me and steal these bagels.”
Blake.
She unlocked the door and pulled him inside. “Thank God, it’s you!”
“Who else would it be?” She watched understanding dawn on him and his eyes brightened. He crossed his arms and took a step back to look her over. “I see. And why would he be here this early?” he asked, scanning her from her messy hair to chipped toenail polish. When she glared at him instead of answering, he laughed. “Oh, I see.”
“You don’t see anything.”
“Are you always this crabby after getting laid?”
“Shove it.” She arched a brow and shot him a withering glare before plucking the bag from his fingers and peeking inside. “Nothing happened. Well . . . not nothing, but not that.”
Blake strolled into her kitchen and, setting the cardboard tray holding the pair of coffee cups on the counter, turned back to her. “Why the hell not? You’ve been in love with the man forever.”
“I’m not in love—”
“Please, Bailey.” He took a tentative sip from his own cup. “You practically light up like a Christmas tree at the mention of his name.”
“I do not!” She raised the bagel she was holding, prepared to chuck it at his head, even if blueberry was her favorite.
Blake plucked it from her fingers. “Don’t waste good food,” he warned, taking a bite. “And, yes, you do. Tell me again why the two of you have never hooked up after all these years.”
“Because he’s never looked at me that way.”
Blake laughed. “Wanna bet? I think everyone in this town sees it but the two of you. Why don’t you stop fighting it and just jump him already?”
“You know why.” Bailey turned away, reaching for another bagel from the bag and cutting it in half before dropping it into the toaster. Her cell phone vibrated on the kitchen counter and she reached for it. “And you weren’t wrong. This is the only chance I’m going to get. If I stayed here, I’d never forgive myself for not giving singing a shot. I’m not ready to settle down and have kids.”
“So? Then don’t have kids, Bailey.” He plucked the cell phone from her hand and set it aside, reaching for her arm and forcing her to turn around, a deep frown marring his brow. “You do realize that what you and Chase have, at least what I think you two have, isn’t something that comes around more than once either. It’s special, Bailey. Are you really going to throw that away for a career that may or may not exist? Sometime a bird in the hand really is better than the two you think are in the bush. Don’t throw away something real for a fantasy.”
Bailey craned her neck to one side, attempting to see her phone. JD’s text message filled the screen. “Does this look like a fantasy?” She turned the phone toward Blake so he could read the text for himself.
Get your ass down here now. Concert in two weeks. Can’t wait any longer.
“SHE’S STILL GOING, isn’t she?” Justin tipped back his coffee, finishing the mug as Chase glared at him. The last thing he wanted right now was an “I told you so” speech. He’d been the one to start Chase down this road, asking him to convince her to stay. If he’d just remained a spectator from the sidelines, he wouldn’t be in this position now.
“Would it really be so bad if she went and tried to make it as a singer?” Alyssa asked, maneuvering another spoonful of baby food past Sam’s flailing hands into his mouth.
Justin cocked his head to one side as he looked at his wife. “I know you haven’t forgotten what that life was like.”
“No, I haven’t,” she agreed. “But Bailey is a different person. She’s strong-willed and—”
“According to Franklin, so were you,” Justin pointed out.
“I can have Franklin keep an eye on her,” Alyssa suggested.
Chase’s hackles immediately rose at the mention of another man’s name in conjunction with Bailey. “Franklin?” Gracie whined quietly from her position curled at his feet. “Wasn’t that—”
“My lawyer.” Alyssa shot him a sympathetic smile. “Relax, he’s sworn off dating musicians and actresses.”
He turned his attention back to Alyssa and Sam. “And where is she going to stay? You don’t have a house down there anymore for her to rent. Even if you did, she doesn’t have a real job.” Justin rose and crossed the kitchen to pour himself another cup of coffee.
Chase stared into his coffee, wishing it was something far stronger. As much as it pained him, he knew that somehow, Bailey was going to be just fine. She’d be better than fine. She’d probably thrive in the fast-paced environment, even if it meant going through some lean months. She’d find a way. She was resourceful and street-smart. Regardless of what Justin thought, or how he underestimated her abilities, she was talented. She would find success and they would probably be listening to her songs on the radio in a year.
And every song would remind him of how he’d missed his shot. How he’d let the one woman he wanted get away because he was too chickenshit to come out and tell her he loved her, that he had for years.
He’d come close last night but couldn’t quite bring himself to say the words, although he’d said everything but. He sighed, twisting the mug in his hands. The truth was, Bailey was better off without him. Justin was better off without him. Hell, Lance would have been better off without him.
Chase rubbed his fingers against his temples, wishing today was over already. There were too many demons carousing in his mind today, playing their sadistic game of tag, reminding him of why he’d returned to Placerville after Lance was buried. Gracie stood and laid her head into his lap, nudging his hand. Maybe that bull would just put him out of his misery this afternoon.
“Hey, you okay?” Justin looked across the kitchen table at him, the worry evident in his eyes. He knew better than anyone how deep this well of self-loathing could take Chase.
“Yeah,” Chase lied, ignoring the dog and scrubbing a hand over his face and rough jaw. He hadn’t even bothered to shave this morning. He wasn’t trying to impress anyone.
Not anymore.
“I should probably head down to the rodeo grounds and see if they need any help setting up.”
“I thought you guys were heading down together. Gage should be here soon,” Alyssa informed him as she finished wiping Sam’s hands clean and slid him from the high chair. “And for the record, I’m completely against this entire idea. I can’t believe you thought I’d be okay with this.” She gave her husband a pointed glare before turning back to Chase. “Get comfortable because you’re not going anywhere until I say so.”
She headed out of the room to take Sam to bed, and Chase couldn’t hide his grin at the difference in Alyssa over the past few months. She was still the kindhearted woman who’d managed to wreck her car, but there was a confidence about her now that hadn’t been there before. Chase leaned toward Justin and lowered his voice.
“She’s getting kinda bossy these days.”
Justin rolled his eyes. “Don’t I know it, but I just let her think she’s getting her way.”
“Just so you both know, I can hear you all the way down the hall,” Alyssa yelled, good-naturedly, from the baby’s room.
“We were talking about someone else, Lyssa,” Justin called back quickly.
Alyssa poked her head through the doorway with Sam on her hip, surprising them, a patronizing smile on her f
ace. “Sure you were. Since you two are here for a little longer, I’m going to put this munchkin down for a short nap so he’s not a complete bear at the rodeo today. If you guys need anything else, just let me know.”
Justin rose and kissed his wife, planting a quick one on top of Sam’s head, and Chase marveled at the way Alyssa was able to mellow his friend. Justin waited for Alyssa to close the door to their room before he returned to the table.
“You might as well tell me what’s going on, because you know if you don’t, it’s going to poison and fester.”
Chase shook his head, not wanting to admit the truth in Justin’s words.
“You told her, didn’t you?”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“Of course it matters.” Justin sighed. “Look, I’m not asking for details—trust me, I don’t want them—but I know you. You were sure you’d convince her to stay.”
“I guess you were right. It just wasn’t enough.”
He’d suspected from the start it might not be, prayed he was wrong, even when Justin warned him. Justin had told him Bailey wouldn’t be tied down, not even for him. Instead of trusting logic, he’d trusted his instincts and once again, it had led him down the wrong path.
Justin reached a hand over and gave his shoulder a sympathetic squeeze. “It’s her loss, man.”
“Trust me, it’s not.” Chase tipped back the mug, draining the last of the coffee.
Justin turned back and eyed him. “Chase, this isn’t a failure on your part.”
“Isn’t it?” Chase saw the concern in his friend’s eyes. “Don’t worry. I’m fine. Or I will be.” Eventually, he finished silently.
“Don’t let this drag you down again. If you want to talk—”
It was better to keep his pain confined with the rest of his guilt, hidden until it could be forgotten. Chase knew the danger in letting his memories out of the cage he’d locked them into. While Justin had a naturally short fuse and Dylan still suffered at times from frustration and rage stemming from his PTSD, Chase would have welcomed the anger instead of the depression and guilt. Survivor’s guilt was one of many things he and Dylan had discovered they had in common over the past few months; however, Dylan hadn’t been the cause of his team dying. Chase had been completely at fault for Lance’s death, and no amount of therapy or apologies was going to change that fact. It was better to bury his heartache over Bailey with his guilt and let both simmer with his regret.
“We’ve talked about this enough. Talking doesn’t change anything.” Chase stared at the dark liquid in his coffee cup. “Bailey is leaving and Lance is dead. Both are my fault.” He sighed as he looked up at Justin. “I called Rachel again last night.”
“Why do you keep torturing yourself?” Justin tossed back the coffee that was quickly turning cold and set the cup on the table. “Did she even take your call this time?”
Regardless of what anyone else might say, Lance’s wife had every right to blame him for the death of her husband. Because of his stupid insistence to go back into that house, her son would never know his father. Chase couldn’t have been more responsible unless he’d been holding the gun that shot Lance himself. The unbidden image of Lance’s face as his life slipped away haunted Chase’s memories.
Chase shook his head. It had been a stupid thing to do after getting home from Bailey’s, but he’d wanted to fill the emptiness inside him with something, and guilt seemed an easy choice. He’d returned to the one regret he had, letting the guilt consume him. At least the guilt reminded him that he could feel.
Bailey had no idea what might be waiting ahead in LA, but it had to be far better than staying with a man who destroyed everyone who trusted him.
THE DUST SEEMED to kick up with every step she took as she passed the arena but Bailey didn’t mind, even when a small cloud surrounded her as two cowboys jogged their horses past her and one of them spun his horse around to get another appreciative look. Normally, she would have had some smart-aleck comment for his obvious ogling but this morning she had other things on her mind. Namely, finding Chase, Gage, and Justin to try one last time to convince them to back out of the Cowboy Poker event.
She would have liked Blake to join her but someone needed to hold down the pediatric ward of the hospital today with most of the town at the rodeo, so he’d volunteered. Bailey wished Justin would have felt the same way about his clinic, but instead he’d closed it down for the day except to emergencies. As she reached the back of the arena, she saw Jessie sitting at one of the stock trailers, talking with the rodeo contractor. Jessie raised a hand in greeting and Bailey recognized Scott and Sydney Chandler, the stock contractors for the rodeo, and went over to say hello.
“I think you’ll be really happy with Rocky, Sydney,” Jessie said. “He’s been a dream once I was able to get him home to get some meat on his bones and give him a good foundation.”
“You know we both trust your eye when it comes to horseflesh and the best job for an animal. Is he at your trailer?” Sydney smiled as Bailey approached.
“Hey, Bailey. You’re down here early. You remember Scott and Sydney, my friend Jennifer’s brother and his wife,” Jessie introduced them again.
Bailey nodded and shook both of their hands again. “We met at Jessie’s place.”
“Over that stallion. That’s right.” Scott shook his head. “It was a shame you could never track down his registration papers and had to get him gelded. He was a nice horse.”
“He’s even nicer now,” Jessie pointed out. “As a matter of fact, I think he’s in the roping today.”
“Really?” Scott looked surprised. “Hey, it’s been great to catch up, but I’ve got a few things still to finish before the rodeo this morning so I’ll leave you ladies to talk.”
He bent and kissed his wife at the temple. Bailey could see such a look of adoration in his eyes that her stomach twisted into a knot. It was the same look she saw in Dylan’s face with Julia, or Nathan with Jessie. Even Justin’s when he looked at Alyssa. She wanted that.
That’s what Chase offered you and you let it go.
JD’s text message flashed through her mind. Can’t wait any longer. It was really now or never.
“Hey, Scott,” Bailey said, reaching for his forearm as he started to walk away. “I don’t suppose I could convince you to cancel the Cowboy Poker, could I?”
He chuckled. “Trust me, I hate that event. I’d much rather see little kids riding sheep any day in the Mutton Busting. I don’t even supply the bulls for it. They’re trucked in by the rodeo committee and they run it, chutes and all. They wouldn’t let me cancel it if I wanted to since it’s a moneymaker for them.”
“How could that possibly make money?”
“Six teams at three hundred dollars apiece and the committee gets half the pot? That’s easy money. Sorry, they’ll never go for it.”
Sydney shook her head. “I’ll never understand how they manage to get eighteen guys willing to sit in a chair and let a bull hit him for the possibility of a three-hundred-dollar share of the pot. They have to be crazy.”
Jessie laughed. “Yeah, well my brother and two of his friends are some of those nuts.” She shot Bailey a sympathetic glance. “We’re hoping they’re the first ones out.”
Bailey bit her lip as she contemplated the best way to approach the trio and convince them to drop out of the event now that her Plan A had failed, especially since they’d already paid their entry fees. Gage was definitely the most logical choice, but she held the least sway with him. She knew without a doubt Justin’s agreement would come with a price—that she promise not to go to LA. But Chase was a different problem altogether. If he was even speaking to her, he would want something she knew she couldn’t offer. Chase would want it all or nothing.
Chapter Twenty
CHASE AND GAGE leaned against the back of Justin’s truck as the sun started to heat up the day. “How in the world did you ever con me into this?” Gage asked.
“If I’m n
ot mistaken, there was alcohol involved.” Justin lifted the flask he’d brought with him in a mock salute before taking a sip and passing it to Chase. “Bottoms up, boys, because that’s exactly what everyone is going to see—our bottoms up.”
He laughed at his own joke and Gage joined in, albeit nervously. Chase didn’t feel like laughing. As a matter of fact he didn’t feel much of anything, not since last night when he’d left Bailey wrapped in a blanket with tears in her eyes.
Her choice, not mine.
It hurt to know that she didn’t care enough to stay, that she hadn’t even given staying with him a moment’s consideration.
Can’t have it both ways. Either it hurts or you feel nothing.
Fine. It hurt. It hurt like hell. He reached for the flask and took a long swallow, the liquid burning his throat like fire.
Gage pulled the flask out of his hand and eyed him. “I take it, from your lack of humor this morning, that things didn’t go so well last night?”
Chase was sure Gage knew exactly how last night had gone. He wasn’t entirely sure that wasn’t why he’d sent him to tell Bailey how he felt in the first place. “Exactly like I expected.”
“Did you even tell her you had feelings for her?” Gage pressed, taking a swallow from the flask and cringing.
Feelings? These weren’t just feelings and it was high time he admitted it.
“Ugh, what is this?” Gage made a face.
“Whiskey, deal with it. We can’t all afford that high-end shit.” Justin chuckled at Gage. “You’re going to need it. Broken parts hurt.”
Justin was right. Broken parts hurt like hell. Chase had gone and fallen in love with Bailey and she’d broken his heart. He reached for the flask and took another swallow, trying to at least dull the pain.
He hadn’t thought there was anything left to break, not after Lance’s funeral. Chase hadn’t wanted to feel the pain and guilt, so he’d shut it all off at the funeral, when Rachel walked by with her son, tears and black mascara streaking down her cheeks. He’d become hollow, dead inside, even when she cornered him after the service, with all of the department surrounding them, and accused him of killing Lance. There’d been no emotion since. Not when the cards and letters of apology returned unopened. Not when the checks he sent to Mason returned uncashed. Not on the day he quit his job on the Oakland Police Department and came crawling home with his tail between his legs.