“My dad’s a good man and father,” Dustin said finally. “Things are going well for him now, but when I was growing up, he had the worst luck when it came to jobs and bosses. No matter how hard he worked, it was never enough.”
She connected the dots. “Which left the two of you with even less.”
Dustin nodded. “We lived paycheck to paycheck, if there was money coming in. Sometimes, his only income was what he won at a rodeo, so he tried hard to stay healthy, but that didn’t always happen. As soon as I was old enough to earn money, I did, even if it was only a few dollars from mowing lawns or shoveling snow.”
“The uncertainty must have been difficult.”
He kept his gaze focused on the road. “Yeah, but when it’s all you know… That was another reason I never considered college. My dad couldn’t afford the tuition, and I wanted to work so I could help him out. These days, there are more services to help provide food and money for electric bills. Back then, there wasn’t a lot. Nobody cared. At least that’s how it seemed to us. But once, we got a care package like the ones we’re delivering today.”
Nevada tried to imagine what growing up with so little must have been like for Dustin. Tried and failed. “I’m sorry.”
She didn’t know what else to say.
“It was no one’s fault. Just how life turned out for us.” Dustin’s voice remained steady, but she could hear the underlying hurt beneath the words. “Sometimes, things were good. Especially when we lived in a bunkhouse and board was included. But one summer, after my dad got fired and couldn’t find another job, we lived in his pickup. There was a camper on the back, but that was a little sketchy. There never was enough food.”
Growing up, she’d missed her dad when he was deployed and she hated moving so often, but at least she had a place to call home and food to eat. Nevada couldn’t imagine what being homeless and hungry would do to a kid.
To Dustin.
Hearing about his past made her understand the underlying reason for him wanting to avoid commitment and why he preferred a carefree lifestyle. Playing the field had nothing to do with it. His childhood was so unstable with little-to-no security. He wouldn’t be as comfortable with something safe and stable.
But the fact he’d broken that pattern and done something more with his life was big. She hoped he saw that.
“I hate that your childhood was so uncertain and difficult, but you survived. And made something of yourself. You became a rodeo champion and now work as a wrangler.”
He half-laughed. “Sounds good, right? But to tell you the truth, it’s all a sham. I’m nothing but a poor kid who got a couple of lucky breaks. Nothing else.”
“That’s not true.”
“Yes, it is.” He glanced her way. “I’m a good-time cowboy who lives for the moment. No long-term commitments for this guy. I learned that as a kid not knowing whether there’d be enough to eat from one meal to the next. Tomorrow is about as far into the future as I look.”
She didn’t know who he was trying to convince—her or himself. “You made a date with me for after the quest. That’s beyond tomorrow.”
He didn’t say anything, but he shifted in his seat.
“Stop selling yourself short because it’s not true.” Anger spiraled at the way he talked about himself. “You’re committed to the quest.”
“All seven days of it.” If he was trying to joke, it fell flat.
“That’s just one example I’m familiar with. Brooklyn is another.” Nevada wanted him to see what he thought about himself wasn’t true. “You’re committed to her.”
“She’s sweet and easy to be around.”
“So are you.”
“Not always.”
“You can be arrogant at times with a few caveman-like tendencies, but you’re also kind, caring, and skilled. None of that has anything to do with lucky breaks.” It was her turn for confession time. She took a breath and exhaled slowly. “This past week, I watched bull-riding videos of you.”
He stiffened. “Why did you do that?”
“To see what you used to do. The rodeo comes to Madison Square Garden, but that’s the extent of my knowledge other than one movie I saw.”
Dustin didn’t say anything.
She wasn’t surprised. This had to sound weird to him. It did to her. “I promise I’m not a stalker or a groupie.”
“I never thought you were.”
That was a relief. “What I saw in those videos wasn’t a cowboy pulling a sham. Yes, there is luck involved, but your ability—your talent—to ride is more important. Without that, you’d be dead.”
He glanced at her. “You don’t mince words.”
“Should I?”
“No.”
“You’ve done well for yourself.” Nevada wanted him to see that. “Your dad must be proud of you.”
Dustin didn’t answer.
“I’m right,” she said. “You should be proud of yourself, too.”
“Are you this annoying to your students?” His tone was lighter. That was good.
“Worse.”
“Poor kids.” He glanced her way again. “Or maybe not. I bet you’re a good teacher.”
“I don’t suck.”
That made him laugh.
Good. She struggled to find the right words to say. “I hate that your knee is hurting again, and this task must be difficult for you both physically and emotionally.”
He adjusted his gloved hands on the steering wheel.
That was when she realized that her hand was still on his arm. She didn’t stop touching him.
“Making these boxes and delivering them brought back memories I’d rather forget, but this is my favorite task so far,” Dustin admitted. “It feels good to be doing something, however small, for others in need. I want them to know people care. That I care.”
Affection and respect for him grew. “You made Sharla feel special. Important.”
“She is.”
At each stop, she followed Dustin’s lead in doing more for the recipient than just dropping off the box and saying goodbye. With each delivery, her heart seemed to expand. The need to help others was stronger than anything else, including doing well on the quest. She had Dustin to thank for that.
Too bad they’d decided on limiting distractions because all she wanted to do right now was kiss him.
For all he’d been through.
For all he’d overcome.
For all he was showing her today.
She was a rule follower so kissing him was out for now, but a part of her—a large part—wished Dustin would forget the rules, take her in his arms, and kiss her.
Hard.
*
Back at Copper Mountain Chocolates, Dustin sat at a table alone. He sipped his cup of hot chocolate to try to make himself feel better.
What had he been thinking?
He should have never told Nevada about growing up so poor. No one in Marietta knew that about him except his foreman, Ty Murphy. That had come out when Dustin was on pain medication after a surgery.
But Nevada had asked, and his words rushed out like water from Sharla’s broken faucet. He’d fixed hers. If only he could do the same for himself.
Stupid.
Although some good came from his lapse. He appreciated the way Nevada tried to make him feel better and make him out to be more than he was. He did define himself by his past. Maybe he didn’t have to keep doing that.
And he was touched she’d taken the time to watch his bull-riding videos. She seemed to enjoy that. He couldn’t say the same after watching Madame Bovary. With all the work Nevada was putting into her dissertation, he hoped the book was better than the movie.
She walked up to the table with a pink envelope. The corners of her mouth tipped up slightly even though she looked ready to yawn. “Our day might not be over yet.”
He fought a grimace. All he wanted to do was ice his knee. Otherwise, he might not be in the best shape tomorrow. “I thought this was the only
task for today.”
“Me, too, but Portia handed me this.” Nevada gave the envelope to him. “Your turn to open it.”
Dustin lifted the flap and pulled out a fancy card. “Looks like an invitation.”
Nevada leaned closer.
The vanilla scent of her hair was the best thing he’d smelled all day. Even better than the chocolate in the shop.
He took another sniff. Maybe that would give him the strength to make it through another task. He appreciated her belief in him and didn’t want to let her down. Not after the way he’d been struggling through their tasks. He needed to up his game for her.
She sat across from him and picked up her hot chocolate. “Are you going to read the card?”
He refocused on the invitation. “You’re cordially invited to attend tonight’s Valentine’s Ball. Refreshments will be served, and there will be dancing. Your presence is not required, but requested. Love will be in the air. You don’t want to miss this special evening full of romance.”
“No way,” Nevada said without missing a beat. “I’m too tired. The only place I want to go is home.”
“Me, too.”
“So, we agree then? No ball.”
Dustin was about to say yes, but another thought sprang into his mind. A way to view the ball from a new angle, one that would give him more time with Nevada but in a different environment. “Not so fast. The invitation presents us with a unique opportunity.”
“What do you mean?”
“This is a chance for us to go out without it being an official date.”
“Semantics.”
“True, but going to the ball together wouldn’t be considered a distraction since it’s part of the quest.”
She shook her head. “An optional part.”
“Semantics.”
“I… can’t.” Her lower lip trembled. She pushed back in her chair. “I need to get back to Dakota’s.”
Dustin was in no shape to chase after Nevada. He reached across the table and held her hand. “What’s bothering you?”
She stared at the cup of hot chocolate. “It’s silly. Nothing like what you’ve been through.”
“I’d still like to know.”
Nevada took a breath and then another. “Something happened when I was in college at a Valentine’s Ball. I’d rather not go to another one.”
“Makes sense, but if you remember, I felt the same way about ice skating.”
“That was different.”
“Because it was me and not you?” he asked.
“You could have died when you fell through the ice.” Her mouth was tight. “What happened to me is in the past. It was… humiliating, but I wasn’t injured.”
But she’d still been hurt. Not physically but emotionally. That was clear from her tense muscles, stiff posture, and the way she bit her lip.
“Please, talk to me. I spilled my guts earlier.” Dustin tried to keep his voice lighthearted, even though he was concerned about her. “Your turn?”
She said nothing.
Dustin sipped the hot chocolate. He would try again. “As Brooklyn would say… ‘Quid pro quo.’”
Nevada shook her head and then nodded. She took a breath. And another. “It was my freshman year of college. I’d skipped a grade in school so was only seventeen…”
Her voice was so quiet he had to strain to listen. By the time she’d finished, Dustin was ready to punch someone. “I’m sorry that happened to you. That loser deserves a—”
“I’m pretty sure my brother, um, spoke to him.”
He could imagine. “Good for York.”
Dustin saying her brother’s name made her lips curve upward. A smile was the first step.
He was about to tell her there was nothing stopping her from going to the ball until he remembered she liked to be asked, not told. “Will you go to the ball with me tonight?”
Her gaze wouldn’t meet his. That wasn’t a good sign.
Neither was the way she shredded the paper napkin that had come with the hot chocolate. “Maybe I haven’t left all of what happened in the past.”
He appreciated her honesty and had a feeling she was taking a big step admitting that. “That’s okay. I was the same way. You helped me ice skate again. You’ve also made me relook at how I grew up and its effect. Let me help you with this.”
She looked up. “How?”
Rubbing the back of his neck, he thought for a moment. He knew little about this kind of thing, but he knew what had worked for him at Miracle Lake. Thanks to Nevada. “Go to the ball tonight and create new memories, better ones, so you can put the old ones out of your mind.”
“Will that work?”
The hope in her voice tugged at his heart. “I’d be up for going ice skating with you again.”
A smile broke across her face. “Maybe going tonight would work then.”
“So, you’ll go to the Valentine’s Ball with me tonight?”
She started to speak, but then stopped herself. “Your knee. Won’t it be painful?”
“We’ll stick to slow dancing.” Dustin was about to use his most charming smile on her but didn’t. He didn’t want to coax her into tonight. “What do you say?”
A beat passed. And another. She pushed her shoulders back and raised her chin. “Yes, I’ll go with you to the Valentine’s Ball.”
*
“Oh, no. What am I going to wear?” That evening, Nevada rummaged through her clothes. “The only nice dress I brought is black. Dustin won’t like that.”
Dakota sat on the bed in the guest bedroom—well, Nevada’s room for the next few months. “You act like this is a date, not two teammates completing another task.”
The curiosity in her sister’s voice sounded like a warning bell in Nevada’s brain. “Is wanting to look good a crime?”
“No, but it’s strange to see you so frazzled.” Dakota laughed. “I like it.”
Nevada sighed. “While you’re liking it, could you please help me figure out an outfit?”
Dakota jumped off the bed. “I have the perfect dress for you in my room.”
“Now you tell me.” Nevada followed Dakota into her bedroom.
“It’s not mine, but Portia’s. She thought I should wear it to my Valentine’s dinner with Bryce, but the waist is tight on me. It’ll fit you better.” Dakota pulled a red dress from her closet. “Try this on.”
Nevada hesitated. Wearing her sister’s clothes was one thing, but someone else’s… “The dress is beautiful, but Portia might not want me—”
“I’m texting her now.”
Less than a minute later, Dakota’s phone buzzed. “Portia would love for you to wear it.”
“The dress probably won’t fit.” A pain throbbed behind Nevada’s forehead. “Maybe I shouldn’t go.”
“You’re going if I have to drag you there myself.” Dakota handed the dress to her. “Try it on.”
“You are bossy.”
“I learned from the best.”
“Mom,” they said at the same time, and then they burst into laughter.
An hour later, Nevada arrived at the Graff Hotel with Dustin. Outside, competitors waved. A few said hello and congratulated them on their efforts. For the first time in well, forever, she felt a sense of belonging and that calmed her nerves about the ball. “I never thought I’d say this, but I don’t feel like such an outsider.”
He grinned. “You aren’t one.”
“Entering the quest is giving me so much more than a chance to win my brother a vacation.”
“And there are still three days left.”
She couldn’t wait.
They entered the Graff. The hotel had been remodeled a few years ago, and she loved the mix of old world and modern décor. Fancy for a small town—a grand hotel in every sense of the word—yet the uniformed staff was welcoming, not snobby.
Dustin’s hand rested at the small of her back. “Let’s leave our jackets at the coat check.”
She’d been wea
ring hers when he picked her up and couldn’t wait to see what he thought of her—well, Portia’s—dress.
He helped her out of her jacket. “You look… wow. Turn around.”
Nevada did. The red dress fit tight in the bodice, but the short skirt flared. She wore black heels that made her legs look longer than they were. Dakota said she’d looked beautiful. Nevada felt that way. “Like it?”
“You’re stunning.”
“Thank you.” His words gave her confidence a boost.
Dustin removed his coat. He wore a white Western shirt with pearl snaps, a fancy bolo tie, dark pants, and polished boots.
She gave him a second and third look. Forget a tux. This was the only dressy attire a man needed. “You look so handsome.”
“I don’t dress up often, but tonight is a special occasion.”
Nevada hoped it went well.
After grabbing her hand, he led her into the ballroom. The room was crowded. Not only had quest competitors been invited to the event, but tickets had also been sold to benefit local nonprofit organizations.
She stared in awe at how magical the room seemed with white miniature lights wrapped in tulle and draped across the ceiling and along the walls. Crystal vases full of pink and red roses sat on round linen-covered tables. A giant heart made of balloons provided the perfect backdrop for selfies. The only nod to cupid was an ice sculpture.
“Very tasteful decorations.” Thank goodness. “And look at all the food.”
Tables of appetizers and desserts were set up around the room. Her gaze zoomed in on one of her favorites. “They have a fondue fountain.”
“That’s the Graff for you.”
“I’m glad I…we are here.”
That feeling wasn’t due to the hotel or the chocolate. She had Dustin to thank for that.
He was still holding her hand as if that was the most natural gesture to do. It felt that way.
“Would you like to dance?” he asked.
Nevada glanced at his knee, but she didn’t say anything. She needed to trust he knew what he could and couldn’t do.
He led her to the dance floor where a DJ played music.
“I’ll let you know if I need to sit a song or two out,” he said. “But this is a ball, and the ivory-tower princess should dance.”
The Valentine Quest (Love at the Chocolate Shop Book 5) Page 15