Fearless

by Katie Golding

  But either way, it didn’t matter how serious any of it felt to me. Bringing Billy’s parents into our…fling? Affair? Ridiculously strong crush? Whatever it was, it was too soon. My parents’ reaction had proved that.

  “Look, either way, we gotta go.” Billy started walking toward me, and I looked to Lorelai, so grateful for her advice even if we’d just met and hoping we really would follow up on our offers to spend time together.

  It was hard to make friends as an adult, especially when you were gone all the time. “Nice to meet you both,” I said to her, reaching out to pet Betty White real quick.

  “You too. Have Billy give you my number, and we’ll hook up soon.”

  I threw her a little wave as Billy took my other hand, letting him hurry me along to his truck. We got in quick and shut the doors, Billy practically racing down the caliche driveway. I swatted at his arm, not that it really bothered me. “Slow down.”

  He chuckled, reaching over to squeeze my thigh. Because I wasn’t sexually frustrated enough. “You know you’re talking to a motorcycle racer, right?”

  Oh God, he had to remind me. “Ha ha.”

  “Besides.” He reached for the radio, turning on a country station but keeping the volume low. “We’re gonna miss our reservation.”

  He was so ridiculous. “We don’t need to eat anywhere that takes reservations. I told you: I am not that kind of girl. We can go to the Ryan’s that just opened up. They have plenty of stuff I can eat.”

  Billy looked disgusted. “We’re not going to Ryan’s. We’re going to the house, I’m getting my wallet, and then we’re going to dinner. That’s it.”

  Oh, that’s it? I gritted my teeth, crossing my arms and legs even tighter. “I will pay for dinner, okay? Then we don’t have to go to the house, and we’ll still be able to make the reservation.”

  Billy glanced at me, clearly starting to get irritated, but his voice was still drenched with patience. “I’m driving without a license, honey.”

  “Shit,” I muttered. “Fine. I’ll drive.”

  Billy growled under his breath and kept driving, not saying another word the rest of the way. Not good.

  He really wasn’t as quiet as I’d suspected when we first met; he told me funny stories almost nonstop, and him giving me the silent treatment was not only the worst, it was incredibly effective considering how addicted I was to his voice. To the saccharine country things he said and how he always made me feel better, even if I was already feeling great.

  Six different county roads with speed limits set way too low later, he pulled into a gravel driveway, and then a small house came into view: yellow and homey with flower beds blooming in front, a few chickens running around while some goats were going wild in the back. Two older trucks were parked under the attached garage; a third newer, jacked-up one was under a tree.

  Must be Mason’s.

  Billy pulled up next to it, throwing his gearshift into Park and leaving the motor running as he got out. “Won’t be five minutes.” He didn’t slam the door, but I still winced when he shut it, hating that I was hurting him.

  I’d become painfully aware that he may be a king on the racetrack and in the rodeo arena, but when it came to the important things, Billy didn’t believe in himself all that much. He always looked at me like I was nuts when I said I was crazy about him. But I wouldn’t have introduced him to my parents if I honestly hadn’t felt that way.

  Damn it.

  I turned off his truck and got out, Billy’s steps halting halfway up the porch when I jogged up next to him. He blinked at me as I took his hand, lacing my fingers through his. Then I found a smile and stuck it on my lips like I wasn’t scared shitless. “Let’s meet your parents.”

  He let out a breath that dropped his shoulders back down to where they should’ve been. And after I stretched up, lifting a kiss from his lips, he led me up the porch steps and through the front door.

  Here goes nothing.

  “Hey, Mama,” he called out, reaching behind us to catch the screen door at the last minute. The smell of berry candles and hot food washed over me, and maybe I was hungrier than I’d thought. But Billy was really good at distracting me from things like eating.

  “Hey there, Billy Bear,” a woman’s voice called out. “Thought you were out for the night?”

  “Forgot my wallet.” Billy winked at me, taking my hands in his and pulling me along into the living room. A wood-paneled wall to my left bordered the kitchen I couldn’t see but could hear his mama puttering around in. “Wanna show you something I found. It’s real pretty.”

  I pulled one of my hands from his and lightly swatted at his arm for the comment. But a blush still took my cheeks as we rounded the corner. His hand settled on my lower back as I got my first sight of his mama standing at their stove.

  She had the same blond hair as Billy but was a little shorter, like Mason. “Aww, cub.” She banged a wooden spoon on the edge of her pot before laying it down, then wiped her hands on a dish towel. “You bring me flowers again?”

  She turned toward us. Then she clamped her hands over her mouth, her eyes huge.

  Billy jolted. “What’s wrong? There a spider or something?” He looked at the ceiling, at the walls, at everything and everywhere but where she was looking: directly at me. “I don’t see it.”

  She still hadn’t moved. I swallowed uncomfortably, peeking up at him. “Billy, where’s the bathroom?”

  He was still looking toward his mama, but his other hand was sweet on my back, his thumb stroking soothingly over my spine. “Right down the hall, honey.” He pointed. “Just around that corner.”

  “Excuse me,” I muttered, shame crawling up my throat as I disappeared behind the safety of the wall, then let out a stifled gasp in the living room.

  “The hell was that?” Billy whispered harshly.

  “Oh my God,” his mama whispered back. “I’m so sorry, but you took me by surprise bringing her here, and she’s…”

  I couldn’t take hearing whatever she was going to say next, and I practically ran to the bathroom, shutting the door. There was no lock, though. How was there no lock?

  I didn’t have to pee so I scrubbed the hell out of my hands, especially after being outside and petting Gidget and Lorelai’s horse. Looking up, I was almost scared to check my reflection. But nothing was wrong with my face, and I was dressed fine: jeans and boots, barrel-racing buckle, and a scoop-neck T-shirt. Not anything special but nothing horrific, either.

  “Sir!” Billy’s voice echoed angrily through the house, and I fell sideways against the door, my blood going cold like I was seconds away from fainting. “I need you in the kitchen, right now, please.”

  What the hell have I caused now?

  A door opened and shut somewhere down the hall, and I seriously considered slipping out the front and waiting for Billy at his truck. I had the keys in my freaking hand.

  Before I could decide, the bathroom door thrust open, launching me toward the bathtub. I caught my balance at the last second, then whipped around to find Mason sputtering at me. “Shit, I’m sorry, Taryn! I didn’t know you were here. I, uh, I gotta piss.”

  God, could this get any worse?

  “Right.” I slid past him, left with no choice but to sneak into the living room. Where I could plainly hear Billy’s parents bickering up a storm in the kitchen.

  “Well, I’m sorry,” his mama said. “But he hasn’t brought a girl home since high school, and I take it seriously.”

  Since high school? My ten-year reunion is coming up. Yeah, this is exactly why I told him I didn’t want to do this…

  I hugged my arms over my chest, taking in all the pictures of the boys on the walls, little bitty things with baseball caps and standing in rodeo arenas holding prize saddles and belt buckles bigger than they were. They were so cute, it was absurd.

  There
were even more photos of them as older teens in the midst of riding bulls—hooves kicking in the air, black Stetsons and starched shirts with numbers on the back, a right arm bent into a perfect L. I could barely tell at first which were Billy and which were Mason, they looked so alike on a bull. But if I looked hard, I could see it. In the shoulders.

  “What? He’s brought home plenty of women since then,” a deep voice said. Must’ve been his father. “What about…um…started with a P…”

  “Nope, that was his prom date senior year. Mason’s brought home women, but not Billy.”

  Gathering up my courage, I poked my head out far enough to see around the corner. Billy was leaning against the kitchen counter, his ankles crossed and both hands smashed to his face, his hat tipped low.

  I restrained a snort. Bet he wasn’t gonna forget his wallet after this ever again.

  “Really? He hadn’t brought home one?”

  “No,” his mama said again. “And your son isn’t a boy anymore, he’s a man. What do you think comes next, Bill?”

  I rooted in place where I stood. Oh geez, slow down, lady.

  “All right,” his father grunted. “You got a point.”

  “Ha! Billy, you heard him say it. I was right.”

  “I said you had a point, not that you were right.”

  Billy groaned and shifted his weight, crossing his arms. Right there with ya, buddy. The corner of his hat lifted a bit, two fingers waving at me from under his elbow, because he must’ve realized I was standing in the living room. Still safely out of sight of his parents, like the coward I was.

  “All right, Billy, what’s going on?” His father’s voice was clear and to the point in that way fathers always did that said they wanted a straightforward answer to a straightly asked question. “You love this woman?”

  I sucked in a breath, my eyes going wide and everything in the room stopping except for the slow click of the grandfather clock behind me. I wanted to run before he answered. I couldn’t wait to hear what he said. Fuck, what was he gonna say?

  I was kinda feeling it, but we hadn’t said it yet, and he hadn’t even come close… Not a heavy pause, a slip, or anything.

  Billy chuckled softly at the floor, his arms crossed tight over the heart in question. When he lifted his head so I could see his face, there was some pink in his cheeks, but there was no hesitation in his eyes or his voice when he answered, “Yes, sir. I do.”

  My heart burst so bright, I’m pretty sure my smile lit up his whole damn living room.

  He loved me?

  “See?” his mama said. “I told you this was serious.”

  But Billy was already pushing off the counter and striding toward me, ignoring his father asking where he was going. I didn’t have time to be embarrassed before Billy cradled my face in his hands and leaned his forehead to mine, his private smile for me deep and sweet and his thumbs sweeping gently over my cheeks.

  It hit me with a boom like lightning as something locked into place, and I brushed a kiss to his palm, hoping he knew how much this wasn’t one-sided and impatient to tell him.

  There was no denying it any longer: I was hopelessly in love with Billy King. And the only future I wanted anymore was the one he had started dreaming for us—just him and me in a small house on an endless ranch, the Memphis sky, and our horses, too.

  Chapter 11

  Billy King—Present Day

  Taryn’s been done with her postworkout stretch routine for a good ten minutes, equally the best and worst part of my day. Especially considering her exercise top is basically just a sports bra. But she’s too busy giggling at my story to remember she wanted to leave five minutes ago to “beat the weather,” whatever that means.

  “That is so ridiculous!” She laughs across from me, sitting on the floor of the gym at Hargrove Ranch. One legging-clad leg is stretched all the way out to her side, the other tucked in with her knee lying flat, and it’s killing me. Never wanted to be a shoe so much in my whole life.

  “Uh, yeah,” I drawl. “That’s me trying to cook. Ridiculous.”

  “How…?”

  I shrug. “Don’t know. Mama said she’d never seen water boil down like that. I just thought that meant the noodles were done. Plus, I’d already added the powdered cheese stuff, but I don’t think I stirred it right or something, because that just seemed to make it madder.”

  Taryn cracks up more, and damn, I missed this.

  “Oh my God,” she says. “I would have given anything to have been there. And what are you doing making your mama teach you to cook anyway? Aren’t her days long enough? Oh Jesus, my cheeks hurt…” She presses her palms to her cheeks, making fish faces and looking so adorable, it’s almost murder in the first degree.

  “Um,” I start, trying to avoid the echo of my father’s voice in my head saying it was a waste of time, and Hey, remember when Mason made that soufflé for French class? That was damn good! But I can’t find any good things to say to Taryn. Not when I’m really doing this for us and the future I’m still not sure we have. But I’m living on hope right now, so I settle on, “I have my reasons.”

  She gives me a look like that’s a halfway acceptable answer, but it’s clearly bugging her I’m not coming all the way clean. She’s still smiling, though. “And you don’t want to tell me what those reasons are?”

  I bite my lip, squinting at her. “Not yet?”

  “Fair enough.” She starts chuckling again. “I still can’t believe you almost set the kitchen on fire trying to boil water.”

  I chuckle along with her, mostly just loving how I already know I get to do all this again tomorrow. Because true to her word, Taryn’s picked me up every day for the last three weeks at three o’clock, driving us over to Hargrove gym, helping me get through my workouts safely—the right amount of weights now included—and then taking me home. True to my word, I haven’t lied to her about anything big or small, and I haven’t asked for a thing from her.

  I offer to drive us over here, but she always says no, claiming it isn’t good for my ankle. And I never call her, even if to ask if she’s on her way when she’s running late. No texts, no flowers, no surprise visits at her window after midnight. I’m not even flirting with her all that much. Sometimes I do, but I think that’s just the way I can’t help being around her.

  I like making her laugh. It’s what I do best. And she’s been laughing a lot lately.

  Only time she doesn’t is when we pass by Duke Bricker’s old ranch on the way over here—can’t really help it. Taryn’s always wondering who’s gonna buy it. If they’ll keep the land in one piece or sell it off in bits. Really seems to bother her, and it’s given me a couple of ideas. But I haven’t found the right time to talk to her about them yet.

  Mostly, I’ve been trying to focus on my recovery, doing everything Taryn says regarding icing and elevating my ankle and all the physical therapy exercises she walked me through how to do at home. Honestly, I have no idea what I would’ve done without her. And I’m not healed yet—end of January testing is getting closer every day, and I still can’t shift gears—but I’m getting better.

  Trying to anyway.

  Taryn gives me a last beaming smile before she recrosses her legs and somehow uses that as a way to stand up, heading over to the pile of our stuff by the wall. I get myself up without much fuss, my limp a little more than halfway better thanks to the sock-like brace I ordered off the internet. Fits fine under my boot, too, and for a second, I thought Taryn was gonna kiss me again the first time she saw it. Didn’t—just gave me a pleased little hmpf.

  “Here you are.” She reaches back to hand me my stuff. I take it from her and quietly set it back down, waiting as she threads her arms through the sleeves of her jacket, then untucks her ponytail. When she’s done, she turns around to arch her eyebrow at me. “You’re not gonna change? It’s freezing outside.”


  I take a breath, just looking at her, and slowly, I start to smile.

  Taryn’s whole freaking face lights up, and she playfully pushes at me. “Stop it.”

  “No, wait, hold on,” I rush out, ready to plead my case. Doesn’t mean I’m not scared shitless about getting shot down, but I’m still going for it. “We’ve been doing…okay, right? I mean, I’ve been…pretty good. Being just friends.”

  Taryn rolls her eyes, but she still hasn’t stopped smiling. She faces me all the way, crossing her arms. “I guess you’ve been okay.”

  “All right, well…” I remind myself not to swallow. No weakness, no fear. Wish my pulse understood that. “You think maybe I can get some kind of reward for good behavior? Maybe some time served?”

  She bursts out laughing. “Absolutely not! You haven’t been that good.”

  I let that one go and tell myself it’s still okay to ask. That it’s important to ask, because it’s what I want, and she wants me to stand up for myself.

  For her and for us.

  And that’s what I’m gonna start doing. Putting her first.

  No matter the consequences.

  “One date,” I offer, holding up a single finger. “Real thing. Let me call on you at your door, your mama can glare at me through the front window, and let me take you out. Show you off a bit. I won’t…” This is the hard part. “I won’t ask for another if you say no, and I won’t pull nothing stupid. I mean…apart from the one kinda big, really important thing that I want to do—to give you—so I can show you that…that I’m ready to start over. And more than that, Taryn, I’m ready for us to take the next steps forward like you want. It’s what I want. But for now, I’m just asking for one date. Please.”

  Taryn spends the longest time ever looking at me, that mind of hers going even faster than her bike does, and I’m praying for mercy every single second of it.

  I didn’t even call her honey once.

  “What kind of big important thing?” she asks quietly.