Summer Love: A Steamy Small Town Romance Anthology

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Summer Love: A Steamy Small Town Romance Anthology Page 56

by Piper Rayne


  “You’re insulting me by walking away.” He pulled his hand down, telling himself to rein in his emotions. Anger wouldn’t solve anything. But anger was about all he had left. “We can make this work. You know we can. We’re only an hour apart.”

  She let her bag drop to the floor then, and she took his hands in hers. A hint of softness finally appeared in her eyes. “You’ll be busy, Bobby. That’s the issue. Too busy for me.”

  “I won’t.”

  “You will. Wasn’t it you who told me that the one thing you hold so dear, your woodworking, would have to be put to the side while you go to school? Possibly until you retire?” The softness was replaced by the original stoicism. “Where do I fit into that scenario? If you did find time to drive an hour each direction, I’d rather you spend it in your workshop than with me. I don’t want you to lose that part of yourself.”

  Her words made sense, but at the same time . . . And then he had the solution.

  “Move down here with me.”

  She looked stunned by his suggestion. “My job is—”

  “Likely ending anyway.”

  Though she recoiled at his harsh words, he kept going.

  “I’m just saying, if Mom does sell . . .” He gripped her hands tight. “Then move here with me. You can find a job here. Every stock contractor in the state knows you. Anyone would hire you. I’ll go to school, you’ll work, then once I’ve graduated—”

  She stopped him with fingers to his mouth. Her eyes remained blank. “That isn’t my dream, Bobby. It’s yours.” She pressed her lips together, her gaze dropping for a second and her fingers lowering. “It’s yours and Bria’s.”

  He shook his head. He didn’t know what else to say.

  “I’m not a replacement for the woman you’ve always wanted,” she told him, picking her bag back up off the floor. “I’m not a stand-in, and I refuse to ever be one. Also, I have my own plans for my life.”

  “And what? Those plans can’t include me?”

  Fire flashed in her eyes. “What they won’t include is me sitting around, waiting for you, only to see if you might someday still want me. Go back to Bria, Bobby. Live out the life you’ve always planned.”

  Fury grew inside him. “Don’t do it, Jewel. Don’t walk out that door.”

  “Or what?”

  He shook his head. Too many years of letting Bria yank him back and forth finally caught up with him. “I’m not going to have another relationship that runs hot and cold. If you walk away now . . . I won’t be waiting for you if you change your mind.”

  She laughed, the sound hitting him like a bucket of cold water. “I’m not asking you to wait for me, Bobby. This is not me suggesting a break. I’m saying that we’re done. We’ve run our course. I spent the last decade loving you. Ten years. While you’ve loved someone else. I’m not going home only to wonder every day if she’s back yet. If you’re still waiting for her. And I’m not giving up my own life to move down here and hope you choose me.” She hitched the strap of her bag over her shoulder. “I’m going home, and I’m finally going to move on. I’m going to stop loving you, once and for all.”

  Her fingers wrapped around the doorknob, and he once again pressed his palm to the door. His movements were gentle this time, however. His mind reeled.

  She loved him.

  Yet, she was going to walk away and then quit loving him?

  “Jewel—”

  A knock sounded on the other side of the door, and both of them jumped. Then finality settled over the room.

  “That’s my ride.” She didn’t look at him. “I have to go.”

  And he knew that he had to let her go. Time was up. He’d tried. And he’d failed.

  Reluctantly, he lowered his hand. Taking a step back, he showed her that she was free to go. He wouldn’t try to stop her. However, when she pulled the door open, it wasn’t her car driver waiting on the other side of it. It was Bria.

  Jewel’s gaze whipped back to him, and he saw the crack. The stoicism she’d been holding on to since walking out of his bathroom had fled. She was broken inside.

  “Jewel”—he shook his head—“don’t. Let me call you next week. Let’s—”

  “He’s all yours,” she said to Bria. Then she walked out of his life.

  Chapter Eight

  The afternoon dragged as Jewel sat in her office. It had been a week since she’d walked away from Bobby, and a week that she’d been working every spare minute to find a solution to not losing the Double B.

  She reached for the cup of pens sitting on her desk and moved them to the other side. Then she moved them back. She shifted the position of the single folder lying in the middle of the flat surface, picked up then set down the tiny bull Bobby had given her as a teen. Nerves had eaten a hole through her, and if Mrs. Brandon didn’t hurry and make it down for their appointment, she feared she might throw up.

  “Bulls are fed, boss. Settled in for the night.” Leon popped his head through the doorway, then pulled up short when he got a good look at her. “You okay?” His eyes narrowed as he took in the room.

  “I’m fine.” She sat ramrod straight.

  “Your desk . . .” He motioned to the nearly clean space in front of her. It was typically littered with paperwork. “Are you moving out?”

  She hoped not. After leaving Missoula, she’d finally made up her mind and had decided that she did want to enact her plan. At least, she wanted to attempt to. “I have a meeting with Mrs. Brandon.” She then let him in on a bit of reality. She looked Leon straight in the eyes. “To discuss the future of the Double B.”

  “Oh.”

  The man was smart. He’d been around for several decades more than she, and he’d known when he’d hired on the year before that things might change. Mr. Brandon had just died, after all, and everything could be up in the air when such a huge change occurred. Of course, given the way the past year had gone, neither of them had expected any changes.

  “You’ll let me know if I need to start looking for another job?” His tone went solemn.

  She nodded. “We’ll talk the minute I finish with the meeting.”

  Without further words, Leon retreated. They’d returned from that week’s rodeo a couple of hours ago, and making excuses, she’d headed to her office and left Leon to handle the bulls. She suspected he’d just figured out why. But she’d needed time alone to prepare. To review her pitch. This wasn’t going to be an easy sell.

  “She’s in the office.” She heard Leon speak from outside the barn, and she pulled in a deep breath and rose to her feet.

  Bobby’s mother appeared a few seconds later, for once not in her usual scrubs, and when she offered a genuine smile, Jewel relaxed for the first time that day. Beth Brandon had always been good to her. Just as her husband had been.

  “Please, have a seat,” Jewel requested. But as the older woman moved into the room, her footsteps stalled.

  Her gaze trained on something behind Jewel.

  Jewel didn’t have to glance behind her to understand. It was the gift she’d found waiting for her the weekend before.

  “That’s you.” Astonishment filled Mrs. Brandon’s features. “That’s phenomenal.”

  When Jewel had returned to the office last Sunday, mentally drained from walking away from Bobby, she’d come face-to-face with a twelve-by-twelve wooden placard of her. It was only one side of her face, her profile rising up out of the wood. Bobby had sculpted both profile and placard from a single piece of mahogany, using stains and finely carved details to perfectly capture her expression when speaking with bulls. He’d mentioned how mesmerizing that look could be a few weeks before, and upon seeing it, she’d collapsed into tears.

  “Who did that?” Beth asked.

  Jewel didn’t speak. She couldn’t. But Beth had to know the answer.

  Jewel waited, and Beth finally lowered to her seat. She dragged her gaze to Jewel’s. “Not Bobby?” she whispered.

  Jewel nodded.

  “But how?�
��

  Beth studied the sculpture again, and Jewel watched as pieces of the puzzle seemed to click into place. She turned in her seat, looking back over her shoulder as if seeing through the walls of the barn and across the pasture. Seeing the studio where Bobby spent so much of his time.

  “I never knew,” she finally whispered. “Does he have more like this up there?”

  He had a cabinet full. But that wasn’t her place to share. “You probably should ask him that yourself.”

  Bobby’s mother nodded, and Jewel found herself wanting to say more. Wanting to suggest she demand her son not give up this part of his life. Jewel knew he had plans, that he’d always seen himself being a solid “provider” by getting a job that would support a family. But his talent was so extraordinary. He couldn’t just turn a blind eye to it.

  She kept her thoughts tucked away, however. Because that, also, wasn’t her place. If she and Bobby were still together . . . maybe. But he was probably already back with Bria.

  With the thought she’d done her best to avoid all week now forefront in her mind, she bit down on the pain of her loss and nudged the folder across the top of the desk.

  “I have an offer I’d like to discuss,” she said. “Concerning the sale of the Double B.”

  She and Bobby’s mother got down to business then as Jewel presented her idea. She was young; therefore, it hadn’t occurred to her at first that she could buy such an established business. The reality was, she’d long planned to start her own company. It wasn’t a dream she’d talked about much, but she’d been tucking away money since she’d first started working. Her hope had been to buy land and start from the ground up by the time she turned thirty. But life didn’t always work out as planned, and she was nothing if not flexible.

  “So, what I want to present are two options.”

  She opened the folder and spread two single sheets of paper out for Mrs. Brandon.

  “One, would be for you to stay on as investors. As you can see, I’ve broken down what I can put down and the loan I’d be willing to take in that situation. As well as how your investments would pay out, what would happen on down years, and so forth. I’d be full operator of the business, having to manage any staff losses on my own, while you and your family could sit back and simply receive dividends.”

  As the other woman looked over the sheet of numbers, Jewel tucked her hands into her lap and crossed her fingers. She’d never intended to take on such a large loan, and at her age, had assumed banks wouldn’t be thrilled to hand over that kind of cash. But surprisingly, in the scenario where the Brandons stayed on as investors, banks were willing to talk to her. Her reputation, as well as that of the Double B preceded her, and she had several loan officers willing to take on that risk.

  “Option two would be a straight-up buyout.”

  This was where things got dicey. It’s where she would bring her father on as cosigner of an even larger loan. Her parents’ retirement would be at stake, but their faith in her was solid. This was also the option she hoped would be given the most consideration.

  “I’m aware that I may not equally compete with Easup’s final offer,” she went on, “but I want the Double B, Mrs. Brandon.”

  The other woman looked up from the paper.

  “I want it because it was Mr. Brandon’s. Because my own blood, sweat, and tears are in these bulls, as well as his. I would honor your husband’s legacy, Mrs. Brandon. That I can promise you. So, I’m asking that you and your family consider my offer. If it’s a no”—she nodded—“then I’ll totally understand. This is a business, after all, and I understand how businesses work. But if it’s a yes, then I would spend my life making your husband proud.”

  Chapter Nine

  Cheers rose from the crowd as bull and rider shot from the chute. It was the last night of the competition, and Jewel stood on the sidelines fighting the urge to cry. This would likely be her last night as a part of the Double B, too. Mrs. Brandon hadn’t announced the family’s decision yet, but when Jewel made her pitch the week before, Bobby’s mom had told her that Easup had already upped his offer. It came in slightly higher than hers, but the more important aspect of his offer was that if Rolls Royce remained unridden tonight, Easup would toss in a twenty percent bonus.

  Who wouldn’t take that?

  And granted, it was possible that Rolls wouldn’t pull it off. Nick Wilde had drawn Rolls, and Nick had been on fire lately. Which meant . . . she’d be rooting for Nick, whether that made her a bad stock contractor or not.

  The rider went flying, and the crowd groaned.

  “That was six point eight seconds, folks. Not quite enough to beat Urban Legend!” the announcer shouted.

  After the bull fighters kept the animal from stomping on the rider, the bull left through the gate, and Jewel’s nerves inched higher. Four more before Nick and Rolls were up. They would be the last of the night.

  However the evening ended, though, she wouldn’t be looking for a new job tomorrow. She’d made that decision over the last couple of weeks, as well. She no longer wanted to work for another owner. She might be young, but she was good. And she knew it. If she didn’t get the Double B, she was prepared to strike out on her own now. Not wait until she was thirty. Her parents were on board with that plan, as well, and were prepared to support her any way they could.

  She caught sight of Leon farther down the railing and offered a tight smile. She’d left him to handle most everything this weekend, as she’d been a nervous wreck. He understood the gravity of the situation and was prepared to move on if he had to. But like her, he would prefer to stay with the Double B, as well.

  The next bull charged from the gate, and the crowd rose to their feet. This rider was a top contender and stood an excellent chance of winning the weekend.

  Eight seconds passed, the buzzer sounded, and the cowboy jumped free.

  Jewel smiled and blew out the breath she’d been holding, her adrenaline pumping. She loved a good ride. She also really liked this guy. He was older than some of the others but hadn’t yet lost his touch.

  She glanced down the line of chutes and wiped her palms over the front of her jeans. Crawley was next.

  Her heart hammered even harder. They were inching closer to Nick.

  It took a couple of minutes for Crawley’s form to emerge from the huddle of riders, but his lanky body finally appeared, confidently climbing the rungs of the back gate. As he braced himself on either side of the bull, someone stepped to her side, but she didn’t look over. She assumed it was either another rider or stock contractor, anxious to see how the night would end. However, when a hand she recognized rested on the top railing, her gaze darted to her right.

  Blue eyes stared back at her.

  “Bobby.” She said his name as if he were the last person she’d expected to see tonight. And he was.

  “You were right.” He didn’t bother with a greeting. “I can’t give up carving. That’s a part of who I am.”

  She sucked in a quick breath. Well, at least one good thing had come from their time together. “I’m glad to hear it. I think that’s a healthy decision.”

  She turned back to the action instead of saying anything more, her nerves pinching even tighter. Her heart thundered. Why was he there? She didn’t want to ask for fear the answer wouldn’t be what she wanted to hear—she didn’t know what she wanted to hear! And she also didn’t want to risk reaching for him and admitting how much she’d missed him these past two weeks.

  He hadn’t called. Not that she’d expected him to. But she’d found that she had wanted him to.

  She’d also wanted to tell him she’d been wrong. That she would wait for him. But she’d stuck to her guns, reminding herself that she wouldn’t compete with Bria. She wouldn’t be second choice.

  “I also talked to Mom this week.”

  She flinched. Crap. Was that why he was there? Because his mom had seen the piece he’d made?

  Crawley’s gate flew open before she could come
up with a reply, and the noise level precluded them being able to speak. She had eight seconds to gather her thoughts.

  Eight seconds before she had to face him.

  Bobby had clearly come to get something off his chest, so she’d let him do it. But she certainly hoped he wasn’t about to lay into her for his mom seeing his gift. That hadn’t been on her.

  Once Crawley finished his ride—staying on for the full eight seconds—she took a moment to drag in a deep breath and lock down her emotions. She then turned to Bobby. There were two more riders before Nick. Hopefully, Bobby could say his piece and be on his way in that amount of time.

  “I’m sorry if your mom seeing your gift upset you.” She stared into eyes now burning with such intensity it almost set her back on her heels. She didn’t let the look sway her, though. “I asked for a meeting, and she happened to see it in my office.”

  “That’s fine. I wouldn’t have given it to you if I hadn’t wanted it to be seen.”

  “Then why are you here?”

  She didn’t take her eyes off him. What could have possibly been worth several hours of travel to seek her out?

  And then a thought occurred. Had he been sent to tell her they were selling to Easup?

  Her stomach dropped.

  “The fact is,” Bobby went on, not answering her question, “I should have showed my work to Mom before. To Dad, too. I should have shown them everything I’ve ever made.”

  She didn’t disagree. “So, why didn’t you?”

  The vehemence in his gaze flickered for an instant, and his Adam’s apple moved as he swallowed. “I didn’t because I wanted to make them proud.”

  His words made no sense, so she didn’t reply. She waited.

  He finally lifted his shoulders. “I know it might sound lame, but I’ve watched my parents support each other all my life. I wanted that kind of pride from them, as well.”

  “And what?” She still didn’t get it. “Woodworking isn’t something to be proud of?” With his skill?

  His brows shot up. “A career in the arts, you mean?”

 

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