If she decided she wanted a man, it was going to be one that didn't hesitate for one second about whether she was worth spending time with. So there. She lifted her chin, and strode to the door that led downstairs. She grabbed the doorknob and paused, her head held high. Good-bye, Travis. She pulled the door open—
"Wait!"
She froze, her heart thundering like crazy. She didn't turn, but her fingers gripped the doorknob so tightly her hand was already cramping. "Too late, Travis," she said stiffly. "Even for a week, I don't want someone who has to think that long and hard about whether he wants to be with me." Her heart felt like it was tearing from her body, but she kept her shoulders back and didn't turn to face him. "It was a great night. One night. You showed me what it was like to feel special, and I'll never forget it. But that's all it was. Good luck with your music. I hope you find your path." She pulled the door open to leave—
Travis leapt up behind her, reached overhead, and slammed it shut, making her jump back in surprise.
"Damn it. Don't do that." She spun around, glaring at him. "I don't appreciate you treating me like—" She stopped in shock as he dropped to his knees in front of her. She was so shocked by the sight of him on his knees that she forgot to be mad at him. "What are you doing?"
He took her hand, and for a split second, for a single, irrational, stupid second, she thought he was going to propose to her. "When you walked out of the bathroom," he said, "I decided I was going to be a good guy for once in my life. I was going to let you go, even though I want nothing more than to spend every single second with you that I possibly can, burning you into every cell of my body, and etching you into my soul so that you're with me forever when I leave here."
"Seriously with that?" Well, damn. Wasn't that exactly the kind of speech she'd wanted? But it was too late. Too late. Her throat tightened, and she raised her chin defiantly. She would not fall victim to pretty speeches when his slow-to-decide actions spoke the truth about how much she mattered. "Don't say stuff like that to me when you don't mean it. It's just cruel."
"That's the thing, Lissa. I do mean it." He pressed a kiss to the palm of her hand, ignoring the fact she was trying to twist free. "I can't be the good guy, the selfless one who lets you walk away. I'm a self-serving, ruthless ass. Just ask everyone in Rogue Valley. I'm a selfish, fucked-up bastard, and there's no way in hell I can be in this town with you all week and not see you." He held up a piece of paper that he'd scrawled on. "I wrote down my schedule for today, and marked off the times when I'm free and can get over here for a few minutes. So you don't have to wonder for one second if I'm coming, or when I'm coming." He pressed it into her palm. "This way, you know exactly when I'll come, and that I'll be here. I'm so sorry, Lissa, but I can't fucking walk away today. I can't."
Well, damn it. How was she supposed to be strong enough to resist that speech? "Put that in a song, and you'll be a star," she snapped, even as she let him slide the paper between her trembling fingers.
"Fuck stardom. I just want a week with you." He looked up at her. "I know it's going to break me into a thousand pieces when I have to walk away. I don't want that to happen to you, so if you can't do this for a week and then let go, just tell me. I'll walk out the door and I'll never bother you again. Just say the word."
She knew it would break her when he left. After one night, she already felt raw and vulnerable, and exposed...but at the same time, she felt vibrantly alive. Her heart was beating more strongly, she was breathing more deeply, and there was a fire burning through her veins, an excitement about life, about being who she was, about potential. And that was after one night.
After a week of being with him, where would that leave her? Powerful, vibrant, and ready to finally own her life? Or would she huddle under the bed in tears for days, utterly at a loss as to how to handle her own life, now that he'd made her see how much more it could be? "It might break me," she admitted softly. "It's already difficult to walk away, and it's been only one night."
Anguish flashed across his face, but he nodded and stood up. "I accept that—"
She touched his arm, her fingers instinctively encircling his wrist. "But I've been broken before, and I survived. I—" She swallowed, afraid to say it, afraid to admit it, aloud or to herself how much she was falling for him already. The last time she told a man she cared about him, he eviscerated her.
But even without her finishing the sentence, Travis's face softened into a smile so real, and so tender that her heart seemed to stutter. "Me, too," he whispered, pulling her into a kiss that seemed to heal the cracks threatening to break her. "I have a break at two. I'll be back then to help you prep for dinner, okay?"
She wanted to tell him not to come by. She wanted to tell him to protect them both from the stupidity of a week that had to end. But the words didn't come. She just sighed instead. "You don't have to help me cook—"
"I want to. I love it." He kissed her again. "Now, go. I have a radio interview in fifteen minutes, and you need to shower the world with the greatest food on this side of the Rockies. I'll see you at two." He nodded at the paper. "My cell number is on there. Call anytime." He hesitated, running his fingers along her jaw. "Okay?"
She knew he wasn't asking about whether it was acceptable to give her his phone number. He was asking whether he could come back. Neither of them was willing to say the words, but they both understood. No, it wasn't okay. No, he shouldn't come. No, this would break them both.
But did the protest make it from her brain to her lips? No, it didn't. She just nodded. "Okay."
Okay.
They were going to do this.
It was ten minutes before two o'clock, the time when Travis had said he'd come by. Granted, she would have to leave soon after he arrived to go to the fair picnic with Bridgette, but she still wanted to see him, even if it was for just a moment.
Ten minutes until he was supposed to be there, and she was counting the seconds. Was that pathetic? She felt like it might be. The café was empty, except for a table in the corner that was lingering over coffee. Lissa had nothing to distract her from her obsessive thoughts. She couldn't help but watch the clock, and that was making her so annoyed. How could she possibly be obsessing about Travis? The man would be gone in a week. He wasn't a long-term option. She would be living life solo again within days. So, why did it matter if he showed up?
She knew why.
For the first time in years, a man had given her a promise, and she'd believed him. She wanted Travis to show up at two like he'd said he would, because she needed to know that she had been right to have faith in him, even if it was for something as simple as chopping cucumbers for the night's salads. She'd been burned so badly, and she hated the fact that she'd let her guard down around him. It made her vulnerable, and she hated feeling vulnerable—
The front door jangled, and she spun around...and then her heart froze as a tall, dusty cowboy walked into her café. Rand. His black collared shirt didn't hide his muscled frame, and he walked with the leisurely pace of a predator who knew he had all the time in the world. He nodded at her, tipping his cowboy hat back so he could inspect her. "Afternoon, Lis."
Her fingers tightened on the dishrag, and she went back to wiping the table. "Hi, Rand."
He sat down at the table she was wiping. "I'll have a turkey club. You know how I like it."
A memory flashed through her mind. Light rye. No mayo. Extra mustard. Lettuce. Tomato. Avocado. Lightly toasted. She pressed her lips together, her heart pounding. "I'm sorry. I don't remember how you like your sandwiches. You'll have to actually order." She pulled out her notepad and pen and waited, trying to keep her expression neutral.
He eyed her. "Liar," he said softly. "You've never forgotten, Lis. I can see it in your eyes."
He smelled the same. A faint scent of some sort of aftershave or something. Every time she'd smelled that in the last nine years, she thought of Rand. At first, the scent had sent a thrill through her. Then it had made her sad and lon
ely. Then it had made her mad. Then it had just made her aware that she didn't feel anything anymore...until now. That scent made a thousand emotions tumble through her in such a jumble she couldn't begin to sort them out, emotions she'd worked so hard to shut away for so long.
He'd been her first love, her true love, the first guy who had ever made her feel like she was more than her reputation. He'd saved her heart, and then shattered it beyond words, because his love was the only thing that had repaired it from a lifetime of abuse. He was her daughter's father, the one she'd waited on for so many years...and now he was back...again. Her lungs tightened, and she tried to take a deep breath, fighting against the stress descending ruthlessly down upon her.
But she couldn't breathe. The room started to spin. Rand was back.
"You look like you're going to pass out. Sit." Rand pulled out a chair and forced her to sit down...not that she had a choice. Her legs were trembling, and she felt lightheaded.
She folded her arms over her chest, and tried to look composed, but she could feel perspiration beading on her lip. "Why are you here? We both know it's not for the sandwich."
He leaned forward. "I made a mistake, Lis. A massive one that has been haunting me since the day I walked out."
She stared at him in numb disbelief. Was he really going to give her the speech she'd dreamed of for years? Right now, when she'd met someone else who made her heart sing? Someone who was leaving in a week? "What mistake?" she asked, her voice raw.
"Leaving the woman I loved because I was a selfish, terrified bastard." He leaned forward, his gaze searching hers. "I went back to town six months later, but you were gone. No one knew where you'd moved to. I tried to find you, but I couldn't, not until last night."
She shook her head, wanting to cover her ears against his speech, the one she'd wanted to hear for so long. "I don't believe you. I'm not that difficult to find, if you'd tried. Not that I wanted you to. I didn't." Her hands were shaking now, and she tucked them under her arms, trying to hide how much he was rattling her. It was all lies and manipulation, just like before. There was no way he'd looked for her. She'd used credit cards, and she owned the café. There were records of her everywhere. He was lying, just like he always had.
But to her surprise, he sighed, and nodded his acknowledgment of her claim. "Yeah, I admit, I didn't hire a private detective to find you, or anything like that. I figured you hated me, and I knew I deserved it. You deserved better than me, so when I couldn't find you, I figured you'd gone to school and were starting a life that was better than being the wife of a bum who was trying to earn money riding bulls." He took his hat off and set it on the table, a sign of manners he'd never had before. "I hadn't earned even a dime in those six months. I was flat broke. How the hell was I going to take care of a wife and a kid? I couldn't. We both know I blew off school. I had no chance of landing any job. I was an absolute fucking failure, and I knew it. That's why I took off originally. Because I was scared shitless about failing, the way my old man failed me. I figured I could earn some money and come back, but I didn't earn anything...but I came back anyway. I was going to quit the tour for you and get some shitty job, but you were gone. So, I left. And that was it."
His story was plausible. Rand had always been the superstar athlete who had never had to try to accomplish anything, but his ego had been razor thin. She knew it was possible that the thought of being a dad could have made him snap. Maybe he hadn't left because he hadn't loved her. Maybe he'd left because he hadn't been strong enough to cope with her... No. It didn't matter what he said. He'd left her and his own child, and the only reason he was back was because it had pissed him off to see her with someone else last night. She wouldn't believe anything he said, not ever.
But a part of her wanted to. A part of her was desperate to believe that he hadn't left because of her, that he'd left because of his own shortcomings. It was pathetic to care whether Rand had actually rejected her, but she could feel her heart fragmenting all over again as he made her hope, once again, that maybe she was worthy of being loved, even if it was only being loved by a selfish, irresponsible ass.
"Lis? Did you hear me? I never stopped loving you." He ran his hands through his hair, making it rough and ragged. "I loved you then, and I still do."
"Damn you. You're such a jerk." Lissa stared past him at the wall, her throat tight as she battled tears. "I believed in you," she whispered. "I waited for so long, and you never came back. You broke my heart a thousand times over, Rand." She finally looked at him, and she was shocked by the look of raw anguish on his face.
Dear God, did he actually regret that he'd walked out? Did he really mean his apology? Her entire world suddenly tilted on its axis, and she felt like she was spinning out of control, with nothing to grab hold of. "I'm sorry, Lis." He reached across the table, holding out his hands for hers.
She stared at his callused hands, at the hands she'd once held so happily, but she didn't reach out. "No," she whispered. "It's too late."
"Are you married?"
"No—"
"Engaged?"
She thought of when Travis had gone down on his knees, and how she'd thought for a split second that he was going to propose. Which, of course, he hadn't. "No—"
"Then it's not too late." Rand closed his hands into fists and pulled them back into his lap. "I'm sorry I showed up drunk last night. I was out with some of the other riders when I heard about you, and I came right over. I wasn't prepared to see you, or to see you with another man, so I reacted badly. That's not who I am anymore, Lis. I earn a good living, and I want a second chance. I won't let you down this time."
She wanted to cover her ears and run away screaming. She didn't want to hear it. She didn't want to give him any chance to delude her again, to suck her back into the magic spell he seemed to weave around her so effortlessly. She fisted her hands and shook her head. "There's no possible way I could trust you, Rand. Ever."
He didn't back off. "What about Bridgette? Doesn't she deserve a chance to have her parents love each other?"
Sharp, defensive fury rose fast and hard. She sat up quickly, glaring at him. "Don't you dare use her to manipulate me. You don't even know her."
"I want to." He reached into the pocket of his jacket and set a small box on the table. It looked like a jewelry box, wrapped in brightly colored paper that any eight-year-old girl would love. "I got this for her. I want to know her. I want to get to know you again." He set another box on the table, a black velvet ring box. "I want it all, Lis. I want the future we dreamed of. The three of us. Together."
She stared at that box in shock. A ring. He was giving her the ring she'd spent so many nights crying over? It was exactly what she'd prayed for. Rand coming back to her, full of apologies, declarations, regret, and guilt. Wanting to try again. Realizing he'd made a mistake. It was everything she'd wanted for so long.
But it didn't feel like she'd thought it would. She didn't feel triumphant and adored. She felt dirty, afraid, and angry, both at herself for caring, and at him for daring. "It's too late," she said again. She pushed both packages back to him. "You can't buy us with jewelry. I don't want you anymore, and Bridgette never did."
"Liar." Rand's voice was gentle, not smug. "I know you, Lis. I always have."
His voice was so kind, so warm, exactly as she'd remembered when he'd coaxed her to go on that first date, promising he would be a gentleman, which he had been. He'd held the door for her. He'd paid the bill. He'd given her only a chaste kiss on the cheek. He'd—
The front door opened, and Lissa jerked her gaze off Rand, glancing at the door as Travis walked in. He stopped dead when he saw Rand sitting at the table, his gaze shooting to the ring box sitting on the table between them. She froze, heat rising in her cheeks, realizing that she was leaning forward, toward Rand.
Rand spun around in his chair, and then swiftly rose to his feet, turning to face Travis. "What do you want, Stockton?"
Travis didn't answer. Instead, he lo
oked past Rand to Lissa. Waiting.
She realized he was willing to walk away, if that was what she wanted. Fear gripped her, and she shook her head quickly, terrified that he would leave her. "Come on in, Travis. We were just reminiscing. Rand, you remember Travis? Travis, this is Rand Stevens." As if the men didn't remember each other. From the way they were eyeing each other, she knew they both had a very clear memory of their not-so-friendly encounter the previous night.
"Afternoon." Travis nodded at Rand as he walked past him. He held out his hand to Lissa, and she instinctively took it, letting him pull her to her feet. "Good to see you're not drunk this time." His voice was even, but cold. "I can't say I care for assholes who think it's okay to show up mean and drunk on a woman's doorstep."
Rand's eyes narrowed. "It was a one-time thing."
"Always is, until it happens again." Travis put his arm around Lissa's shoulder, pulling her against him. "The thing is, I don't like it. Lissa's under my protection, and if you ever walk in this door drunk again, you won't be able to walk out." His voice was deadly still, and Lissa knew he meant every word…not because of Rand, but because of a lifetime of nightmares that still haunted him.
Quietly, she put her hand over his, squeezing gently, trying to let him know it was okay.
He didn't even look at her. He just kept watching Rand, his entire body coiled for a fight.
She realized he didn't trust Rand, not even for a second, even though Rand clearly hadn't been drinking this time. She suspected that Travis had learned the hard lessons too many times, and there was no way to harness his instincts. Her heart tightened for the shadows wrapped so tightly around Travis, shadows that were maybe even darker than hers were.
Rand's eyes narrowed. "Chill out, man. She's not your problem."
"No, she's not my problem. She's not anyone's problem. She's the kindest, most generous, most courageous woman I know, and it's an honor to stand by her, not a problem."
A Real Cowboy Never Walks Away (Wyoming Rebels Book 4) Page 13