Write You a Love Song

by Francisco, Fabiola

  “I’m just sayin’. I want you to be happy, but it’s only fair to her if you’re not still holding on to feelings for Reese.”

  “I’m not.” I run a hand down my face. “It’s complicated. Reese will always be special, but it’s more about the guilt than my actual feelings toward her. I knew we were over the night I saw her, and she told me she was with someone else. She loves him, and I did her wrong.” I shake my head.

  “Then let it go. Don’t hold on to that crap anymore and look at the amazing woman you have in front of you.”

  “You have a thing for her?” I’m not about to enter some brotherly contest to see which Bentley brother she prefers.

  He shakes his head. “Nah, but I care about her as a friend. I know her ex-boyfriend cheated on her, and she doesn’t deserve to go through that.”

  “I’d never cheat. I was loyal to a wife I never loved.” I tense in my seat.

  “I know, but there are more ways to feel cheated than physical infidelity.”

  “I get it. If I wasn’t ready to move on, I would never have pursued her,” I defend my actions.

  “I know,” he nods, finishing off his beer. “Besides, I think she’s perfect for you.”

  Pensive, I drink my beer. She is perfect for me, in ways I never even thought I’d want in a woman. Her quirkiness draws me in. She’s wild and free, yet grounded. I don’t know how I’d describe Ainsley, and maybe that’s it. I can’t find the right words because I’ve never met anyone like her before.

  ***

  I end my call with Matt, grateful he checked in to see how I was doing. He asked about Ainsley, and when I told him what was going on, he boasted about how right he was when he visited Everton. It’s been two days since I’ve seen her, and I hope to change that soon.

  I scroll through my phone as I sit back on my couch, one leg propped up on the coffee table and crackling of burning wood in the fireplace comforting me. I haven’t been on social media much, not wanting to give into the drama of everything that’s happened. Taking a break to gather myself means a break from social media as well.

  Noticing a few tags in comments on Instagram, I click on the post to see what it’s all about.

  A baby and a wedding: Reese Stone and Dex Monroe have welcomed their first child, and there’s talk of wedding bells in the near future.

  I freeze, staring at a photo of Reese with Dex and a newborn. She looks down at the baby with awe, and he’s staring at her with so damn much love.

  I blow out a heavy breath and smile. She looks happy, happier than I’ve ever seen her. The next photo on the post is one of Dex and Reese looking at each other. At one point in time, I thought she and I would share photos like these, but the only thing running through my mind is how happy I am that she found that with someone like Dex. From what I hear, he’s a great guy. I had to ask around when she first told me she was seeing him. I had no right, but the protectiveness I carried when it came to Reese took over.

  I don’t bother reading the comments I’m tagged in, knowing it isn’t worth the stress or taking away from their moment. I wish them the best, and I feel proud for having known her and been a part of her life. I close my eyes, only one smiling face appearing behind my eyelids, and she’s blonde not brunette.

  I type on my phone, smiling to myself.

  KnoxBentleyOfficial: hey, I hear there’s a gangster and beautiful woman who owns this account. She also loves Frito pie and rapping to Eminem after she goes sledding on antique sleds. Just so happens this woman sounds perfect

  While I wait for her to reply, I grab a beer from my fridge and sit back on the couch, scrolling through the television channels. After a few minutes, I check my phone, noticing she read the message, but she hasn’t replied. I exhale and wait a few more minutes. Maybe she went into work a little earlier today. I look again, and still no message or bubbles showing she’s typing.

  Crap. I don’t know how else to prove to her that I’m ready to have her in my life.

  When she doesn’t answer after thirty minutes, I figure she’s busy at work, and I make a plan to go to Clarke’s later tonight to see her.

  I drop my beer bottle in the recycling bin and stare out the glass doors, watching the light snow falling onto my yard. I stretch my arms over my head, gripping the door frame to stretch and look over my shoulder when I hear a knock on the door. Guessing it’s Axel, I walk to the door and open without checking.

  “Hey.” Doe eyes look at me while teeth puncture her bottom lip.

  A slow smile creeps on my face. “Hi.” I reach for her and pull her into a hug, inhaling her flowery scent and the cold around her. I close the door, keeping my arm around her. When her arms loop around my body, I feel like a lucky bastard.

  “What are you doing here?” I look down at her. “Not that I’m complaining, but I was waiting for you to respond to my message.”

  Ainsley takes a step back and shrugs. “I saw the news and wanted to make sure you were doing okay.” Her expression doesn’t change, full lips set in a straight line and eyes still wide as they look up at me.

  I tilt my head and grab the back of my neck. “I’m doing fuckin’ fantastic,” I tell her with honesty. “I’ve told you, she’s not my present or my future. What I had to do to her was hard, and I hate myself because I’ve never been the guy to cause pain, but she’s not the woman I want to be showing up on my doorstep unannounced.”

  “Really?”

  Using my thumb, I remove her bottom lip from her teeth and nod. “I promise. I read the post, and my reaction was pride and happiness for them. She deserves to be happy, especially with a good guy. Maybe at one time, I wanted that with her, but that’s changed.” I put my heart out there, hoping she’ll catch it. I’m not sure I can handle it shattering again.

  “I just don’t want to push more than you’re ready for.”

  “Push, babe, push as hard as you can,” my words rush out.

  “Are you sure? Because I’m pretty strong.” Her eyebrows pop up and she flexes her arm, showing me her muscles.

  My head falls back as I laugh. “You are strong,” the meaning double.

  I pull her to me by the waist and keep my hands there. “I know my life’s been a shit show for the last few years, and for all I know I’ll be poor in the next few years and have to beg my dad to give me a job at the ranch, but what I know for certain is that I want to spend time with you. I want you in my life, as more than a friend.” I kiss her forehead.

  “I want Frito pie nights and tubing dates. I want you to sing my songs instead of Eminem’s,” I smirk. “Give me a chance?” I ask.

  She nods and wraps her arms around my neck. “How can I say no to that?” Her lips land on mine as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. I pull her closer to me, deepening the kiss, wanting more than a few innocent pecks.

  I lift her, and she wraps her legs around me, laughing as I walk us into the living room and set her on the couch. “I’m going to add more wood to the fireplace,” I whisper over her lips.

  Ainsley tucks her legs under her as she watches me stoke the fireplace.

  “Do you have to go to work?” I turn to look at her, standing from my position in front of the fireplace.

  “I had swapped shifts with Adam today and worked the morning,” she explains.

  “So that means you have the evening free?” I stalk toward her, smirking.

  “Yup,” she nods, raising an eyebrow.

  “Great. What do you want to drink?” I rub my hands together, the warmth of the fireplace filling the room.

  “Scotch,” she winks, and I chuckle.

  Serving us both a glass, I join her on the couch and tap her glass with mine. “Cheers.”

  “Cheers,” she echoes and sips her drink.

  “My mom’s excited you’ll be joining us for Thanksgiving,” I tell her.

  “Are you sure it’s okay?” She shifts on the couch to angle her body toward me.

  “Of course, my parents both agreed. No
one should spend this holiday alone. I wouldn’t allow it.”

  “Allow it?” Her eyes pop open, and her eyebrows lift on her forehead, causing me to laugh. “Newsflash, buddy, I’m my own boss.” She jabs a finger against my chest.

  “I know.” I grab her hand and bring her toward me. “But I wouldn’t let you spend the day by yourself. I’d have gone to your place and made sure you had someone that cared about you with you.”

  “That’s really sweet.” Her eyes soften, and she smiles before kissing my cheek.

  “Now…” I let the word linger, collecting my thoughts. “I want to introduce you as my girlfriend, not Ainsley, Clarke’s bartender, or a friend.”

  She runs her hand through her hair, flipping it to a side, “Are you sure?”

  “Positive,” I reassure her.

  Knox

  I’ve spent as much time as I could with Ainsley these last few days, from lunch dates at her place where we make Frito pie to secret flirting while she’s at work. She doesn’t know this yet, but I’ve even picked up my guitar a few times and strummed some chords, remembering what it’s like to play without the pressure of dollar signs.

  Tonight will mark a new step in our relationship. Up until now, only my parents and Axel know about my relationship with Ainsley, but the rest of my family will meet her soon when we get to my parents’ house for Thanksgiving dinner. As much as I can ask them to keep this quiet for now, it’s hard to control what will happen.

  Ready to introduce her to everyone and spend the evening with her, I jump out of my truck and put on my coat before making my way to her apartment door. I rub my hands and blow into them while I wait for her to answer.

  “Hey,” her bright smile greets me.

  I pause, looking her up and down. “Hi,” I grin, walking into her apartment and kissing her.

  “Well, I like that greeting,” she teases as my arms remain loosely around her waist. “Do I look okay?” She looks down between us.

  “You look beautiful,” I state.

  “I can change if it’s too much or too casual,” she rambles.

  “I said you look beautiful,” I interrupt her. “Gorgeous.” I kiss her soft lips.

  “Don’t ruin my makeup,” she chastises.

  “I plan to ruin it later,” I wink and hold her hand, taking her in—ivory sweater, short camel skirt with buttons down the front that gives me ideas that aren’t appropriate for a family dinner, and black tights with black booties. When I look at her face again, I see her red lipstick is smudged. I chuckle, reaching out and running my thumb along the edge of her lips to wipe away the bit that spread.

  Ainsley laughs, and I furrow my eyebrows. “Your lips are red,” she blushes, wiping her thumb across my lips. I nip the pad of her finger, and she raises her brow, looking into my eyes with mischief. “Behave,” she pats my chest. “You look handsome.” She steps back and does her own assessment of my outfit.

  “Babe, we better go before we skip dinner altogether,” I warn.

  “You hittin’ on me, Mr. Bentley?” She shimmies and winks.

  I groan, watching her body move.

  Ainsley’s laughter carries her into the kitchen, and she reappears with a wrapped pie dish.

  “I’ll take that.” I grab it from her.

  “Thanks. Let me just put on my coat, and we can head out. I’m nervous,” she confesses.

  “You have no reason to be, trust me.” I drop a kiss on her temple as she puts on her coat and then wraps a plaid scarf around her neck.

  After a deep breath, Ainsley looks at me. “Okay, let’s do this.” She claps her hands quickly.

  “Come on.” I lace our fingers, holding the pie with my other hand, and lead us to my truck.

  “Oh, my God!” She grips my hand as she slips on a patch of ice, shaking me as well.

  “The pie?” She looks at me with wide eyes.

  “It’s in one piece,” I assure her, trying not to chuckle at her freaked-out expression.

  “Phew. Okay, let’s make it to your car without any mishaps.” Her chest slowly rises and falls as she attempts to calm her nerves.

  “Ainsley, relax. You’ve already met my parents and the rest of my family is easy going.”

  “Yeah, but I met them as Ainsley, your bartender for the night, not Ainsley, your son’s girlfriend,” she says in a deep voice.

  “Are you mocking me?” I ask as I hold the door open for her, cocking my head to the side.

  “I’m mocking myself. I’m not sure why I deepened my voice,” she giggles.

  I shake my head and kiss her. Taking the pie from my hands, she places it on her lap, and I make my way around my truck, ready to introduce her to everyone.

  “So, you said your aunts and uncles would be here, your cousins, and who else?” Ainsley asks as I drive.

  “That’s all. My mom’s brother and his wife, their daughter, and then my dad’s sister and brother with their spouses and two of my cousins on that side. I’m not sure if any of them have girlfriends at the moment. I do have another cousin that spends Thanksgiving with his wife and her family in Virginia.” I give her the spark notes version of my family.

  “That’s not too bad,” she whispers to herself.

  I reach for her hand, weaving our fingers together. I never expected to meet a woman like her. When I thought everything in my life was ruined, she smiled my way and sparked hope. I’ve wanted to know her since that night at Clarke’s, and that morning I ran into her at the coffee shop where she was checking her mail and asking if I wanted to sit with her. This woman is fearless but vulnerable, and she’s teaching me both of those things can coexist.

  When her other hand covers our linked fingers, a feeling of protection comes over me. I want to take care of this woman, but she’s also doing that to me. She doesn’t fault me for my past mistakes, and her gentle touch shows me she likes me just as I am, no fame or career, simply Knox Bentley, Wyoming native that loves snow, horses, and his family.

  I’m fucking fortunate to have found a woman like her because she’s a rare one. Ainsley rushed to my house to comfort me, thinking I’d be in a bad place when she read Reese had a baby, not knowing that the only woman I wanted was her. She selflessly put her feelings aside to take care of me.

  I lift our tangled fingers and kiss the top of her hand. “Thank you for being with me,” I sneak a glance her way.

  “You’re welcome,” her words come out slowly, unsure.

  “I’m lucky to have you in my life, and I haven’t told you that.”

  Her mouth splits into a wide smile. “You’re something else, Knox.” Her head leans back, and her eyes close, but the smile is permanent. She rolls her head against the headrest and looks at me, the corner of my eyes flick toward her periodically.

  “You starin’?” I ask, my voice light.

  “Shhh… Don’t interrupt me,” she teases. Her fingers follow the lines of my profile and feel my beard. When they reach the side of my lips, I turn my head, eyes still on the road, and kiss her fingertips.

  “Ready?” I ask then, pulling into the ranch.

  “Yes,” she sighs, much more relaxed than when I got to her house.

  I open the front door, and chatter hits us. Ainsley squeezes the hand she’s holding, and I look at her, winking. She smiles, leaning her head on my shoulder, as we make our way into the house.

  “You’re here,” my mom beams, walking toward us. “Hi, Ainsley, I’m so glad you’re joining us.” She pulls Ainsley by the shoulders and wraps her arms around her. I chuckle at her excitement.

  “Thank you for having me, Mrs. Bentley.” She smiles at my mom, calm and confident like the woman I’ve come to know.

  “It’s our pleasure, and please, call me Deb.” My mom looks at me and wraps her arms around me, almost knocking the pie I’m holding.

  “Hi, Mom,” I laugh.

  “Come in. Knox, you can introduce Ainsley to everyone,” she says as she takes the pie from my hand. “Thank you for making this,
” she directs her attention to Ainsley.

  “You’re welcome. I love pumpkin pie, and I make it every year.” Ainsley doesn’t skip a beat.

  “Hi, Ainsley, it’s nice to see you,” my dad joins my mom. “And before you call me Mr. Bentley, please call me Dean.”

  “It’s nice to see you again,” she smirks.

  As we walk further into the kitchen, I introduce her to everyone. If I guessed, I’d say my mom already gave them a warning before I arrived. No one seems to be surprised by my arrival with Ainsley.

  “How does it feel to be back livin’ here?” Uncle Ben, my mom’s brother, asks after Ainsley, and I take a seat at the dining room table.

  “It’s been good,” I nod. “Missed being here.” I take a sip of scotch, relaxing as the amber liquid warms me.

  “Cheers to that.” He holds his glass up, tapping mine. “How are you liking Everton?” he asks Ainsley.

  “I love it.” Her face lights up. “It’s colder than I’m used to, but the town is great, and I love the mountains here.” She runs two fingers up and down the stem of her wineglass, but otherwise, she seems relaxed.

  “How long have you been living here for?” Lily, my cousin, asks.

  “Not too long, a few months. I lived in Colorado before, just outside of Denver.”

  “That’s cool. Are you from Colorado?” Lily smiles, tilting her head a bit. My little cousin is anything but subtle, and her curiosity is painted on her face.

  Ainsley leans back into the chair, now holding the wine glass. “I’m actually from Texas, but I was relocated to Colorado with my previous employer. I recently realized my job wasn’t satisfying me the way it used to, and I felt like I needed a change, so here I am. I bartend at Clarke’s in the evenings, wasting away my college degree, but I’ve never been happier.” She lets it all out and takes a sip of wine. I hold in my laughter.

  “That’s brave. I don’t think that I could move somewhere I’d never been before,” Lily raises her eyebrows as she thinks about it.

  “You went to Arizona for college,” I remind her.

  “Yeah, but college is different. You’re going, knowing you’ll make friends and have some kind of plan,” she shrugs.