Blythe. That reminded him, he needed to hire somebody to take care of the boarding stables.
He drove to his parents’ place and talked to his dad, William Prescott Patterson, Sr., whom everybody called Bill. His mom, Dottie, was like a grandmother to Renie. Which meant Billy was practically Renie’s uncle, and for the last twelve hours he’d been fantasizing about what it would be like to kiss his niece. Yep, he was fucked up all right.
His dad recommended the same man who ran the stables for Liv last year, after an accident kept her away from the ranch for a couple of months. Steve Sookan was his name, but everyone called him Sookie. One of their more reliable hands, he’d worked for the Pattersons for a several years.
“You gonna let him stay in the house, Billy? That way he doesn’t have to come up from the bunkhouse,” his dad suggested.
“Why is he living in the bunkhouse?” Typically it was only used during busy times of the year, like calving season.
“Divorce. He’s trying to get back on his feet.”
Billy thought about it for a minute. “I’m not sure, Dad.”
“Why not?”
He didn’t want to tell his dad the real reason he didn’t want Sookie staying at the house, but he couldn’t come up with another reason off the top of his head.
“I guess it would be okay, but I told Renie she could stay at the house if she wanted to come down and see Pooh on the weekends.”
“Sookie’s harmless, but I would understand if Renie felt uncomfortable staying there alone with him.”
Sookie’s reputation with the ladies was the main reason he’d gotten a divorce. Billy didn’t want Renie within a hundred feet of the man.
“What did he say?”
“It doesn’t look good, Blythe. He said he didn’t want to hire someone who doesn’t have any experience with horses.”
“I don’t care that much about the job. What did he say when you mentioned me?”
“He didn’t say anything, Blythe. Oh, and he had a date last night. It might be somebody he’s serious about.”
“Serious? Billy Patterson is serious about someone? That I’d like to see. I’m not talking about forever, Renie. I only want to have some fun. I mean, God, just the thought of him…” Blythe swooned, rolled her eyes back in her head, and made a noise that sounded like an elk during mating season. Renie thought she might be sick to her stomach.
“I wouldn’t get your hopes up.”
“Let’s hang out at your house tonight.”
“I told you not to get your hopes up. And, it isn’t my house anymore.”
“He won’t care if you invite me over.”
Renie told Blythe that she had a midterm she had to study for that night, which was the truth. Not the whole truth, but enough of it.
“What about Sunday? I’ll come over for breakfast.”
If Blythe Cochran didn’t let this go, Renie would kill her.
Billy hadn’t texted Renie all morning. Before yesterday, he hadn’t thought about how often they texted each other. But now that he thought about it, he sent her texts all the time. He told her everything; important stuff, trivial stuff, and jokes. He even said good morning and goodnight to her almost every day. Except today. He hadn’t said good morning to her today, he realized as he scrolled back through his texts to her.
Hey
Hey
What r u doin?
With Blythe.
When will u b back?
Why?
Typical Renie. Couldn’t she just answer the damn question?
Because I’m asking.
Planning on bringing a girl home tonight?
He’d never known anyone better at answering a question with a question than Renie Fairchild. Maybe he wouldn’t answer her, let her stew for a bit. Or he’d answer yes. But, if he did that, she wouldn’t come back to the house, she’d stay at Blythe’s, or go back up to school. He didn’t want that. More than anything he wanted to hang out with her as though everything was normal between them.
Answer the question.
An hour.
Wanna have dinner with me?
Who’s cooking?
You are.
It was one of those relationships. You see them all the time. The girl in love with the hot guy who didn’t realize she was alive. She’d do anything to be with him, and he took her for granted. The girl would never tell the guy she was interested in him because then he’d be uncomfortable and stop hanging out with her. That described her and Billy perfectly.
She parked near the barn, and went in to see Pooh before going in the house. She had things she needed to talk over with her horse before she saw Billy again.
2
Billy didn’t remember the last time he was this nervous. Or if he’d ever been this nervous, and it was because of Renie, the person he felt more comfortable around than anyone else.
Half of him hoped that when she got to his house things between them would go back to the way they were two days ago. When she was his buddy. The other half of him hoped he felt more, the way he had yesterday.
He took a shower, and then spent time picking out what he would wear, like he had a date. The thing was, even if he threw on a pair of jeans and a white T-shirt, somehow she’d be on to him, and tease him about it. She was uncanny that way. No one else called him out on his shit the way Renie did.
He should have a couple of beers before she got there. Or a shot of whiskey to calm his nerves. He wasn’t even this nervous before riding a bronc.
Renie came into the kitchen through the back door. She saw Billy out on the deck leaning on the railing, with his back to her. There were few sights as fine as that one. Billy, in a pair of jeans, the right amount of tight. His shirt was taut over his shoulders. There he was, short sleeves, no jacket, in ten-degree weather. How long had he been standing out there?
She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, then another. She wasn’t sure what to expect from him, so it would be up to her to set the tone of normalcy between them—make everything okay. It was what she did.
Billy was still on the deck, but he’d turned around and was watching her. He raised his beer to his mouth and took a long drink. Renie loved how he held the bottle a little away from his mouth, so his lips didn’t touch it.
She walked to the wine cooler, and then remembered Billy didn’t keep wine in the house the way her mom had. She turned back to the refrigerator to get a beer. A little fortification in the form of alcohol was definitely called for.
“There’s wine if you want some,” Billy offered, walking into the kitchen.
“There is? Since when?”
“Since I stopped and got it, in case someone wanted wine. Does it look any good? It’s what they recommended at the liquor store.”
She walked back over to the wine cooler. He’d stocked several whites, several reds, a couple bottles of sparkling, and even a rosé.
“You having a party, Billy?”
“Nah, I thought since I had this thing I should keep something in it.”
Renie went through the bottles, putting the whites on one side, the reds on the other, doing it so it looked as though she was seeing what he had instead of organizing it.
“You have a huge refrigerator over there. Are you feeling compelled to make proper use of that too?” Renie doubted he had much more than beer. Which reminded her, she had no idea what he thought they’d be having for dinner.
“You got everything figured out, don’t ya? Maybe you should quit makin’ so many assumptions.”
She opened the refrigerator. It still wasn’t close to half-full, but he had a lot more in it than beer.
“Stocking up for those girls you’re inviting over?”
“Why are you so fixated on me invitin’ girls over? I’m sure the first time you asked me, I told you I didn’t have any plans to.”
“I don’t want to show up here unannounced and find you in a compromising position.”
He rolled his eyes. “Right.”
“Can’t believe a—” she started to say hot, but then thought better of it. “Saddle bronc champion wouldn’t have experience with compromising positions.”
“I have plenty of experience,” he mumbled as he reached in and pulled out another beer. “I got steaks, shrimp, and chicken. Didn’t you say you were gonna make dinner?”
She wanted to see what else he’d gotten, but he was blocking her view. She bumped his hip with hers to move him out of the way. And there it was again, that little sizzle when she touched him.
He moved, but not quite far enough. Instead of looking in the refrigerator, he was looking at her.
“What?”
“Nothin’.” He walked to the other side of the island and sat on a stool.
The kitchen was Renie’s favorite part of the house. It was a cook’s kitchen—a gourmet cook. It had two convection ovens, a seven-burner Wolf cook top, and thick, rough-edged granite counters, and all kinds of cool built-ins like the wine cooler.
Renie looked through the refrigerator and saw he’d gotten vegetables, too.
She pulled out a head of lettuce and raised her eyebrows at him.
“What?”
“This is a vegetable,” she answered. “Not a very nutritious one, but still a vegetable. Did you know that when you bought it?”
“You’re hysterical. You should be glad my mama didn’t hear you say that. She forced me to eat plenty of vegetables when I was a kid.”
“Forced you.” Another eye roll.
“You gonna make dinner or keep makin’ fun of me? If you don’t get at it, I’m gonna start cookin’ myself, and you don’t want that.”
“It’s time you learned to cook. You’ve got this amazing kitchen, and then when you invite—”
“Don’t say another word about me inviting girls over, Renie.” He glared at her, so she gave him an okay sign.
“So who’s gonna teach me? You?”
“Sure, tonight will be your first lesson.”
Renie made Billy wash the lettuce, and then showed him how to chop other vegetables for a salad. He needed to practice chopping and dicing, but it wasn’t bad for his first attempt.
A couple of times she put her hand around his on the knife, to show him how to hold it at a better angle. The first time he flinched.
“What?”
“Nothin’. I didn’t expect you to do that.”
“Billy, what’s going on with you? You all jacked up on energy drinks?”
Renie walked to the sink to wash her hands, but more to take a deep breath and settle herself.
“What do you want me to do next?”
“Sit down and I’ll cook the shrimp. You can watch. Or go out on the deck.”
“I’ll watch.” He pulled the stool closer to the end of the counter. “How come you don’t complain about cookin’ for me?”
“It isn’t all for you. I’m cooking for myself too. Plus I enjoy it. It’s something my mom and I did together, as far back as I remember.”
“Some of my best memories are sittin’ in this kitchen watchin’ you and your mama cook.”
“We have had good times in this kitchen,” she answered. “I miss her.”
“I miss her too.”
She stilled, and he wondered if he’d said the wrong thing.
“What’s up, Renie?”
“It’s strange. I’ve lived in this house since I was born, and now I don’t anymore. Sometimes I forget.”
“You’re welcome here anytime,” he said quietly.
“I understand what you mean about missing my mom being here. I’d miss Dottie if we were at your parents’ place, and she wasn’t there.”
“See? Exactly.”
“I shouldn’t stay here all the time.”
“Why not?”
“It’s your house now, Billy. It’s not my mom’s anymore.”
“What does that have to do with anything?”
“Doesn’t it feel weird to you?”
“Weird, how?” He knew what she meant, but wanted to know whether she was feeling the same profound changes between them he felt.
“Never mind,” she shrugged.
“Don’t make a big deal out of nothin’, Renie. I said you could stay here whenever you want, and I meant it. If anything changes, I’ll say so.” He was lying, and she probably knew it. Nobody read him as well as she did.
He’d been in Renie’s life since she was a little girl. Now that they were both adults, and things were changing between them. She’d handle it better than he would. Even when she was ten, she’d been more mature than he was.
Sometimes he figured that was why they were such good friends. She was at least five years more mature than her age, and he was at least five less mature, so that made them about equal.
Renie dished their shrimp and salad and pulled a stool next to him at the island.
“Glad you’re here,” he murmured.
“Me, too.”
Two words, so simple, but from her, it made everything feel right.
“You wanna watch a movie after dinner?”
“I have to study.”
“You wanna study while I watch a movie after dinner?”
That made her smile.
“Sure, that’d be great.”
Renie fell asleep in the big chair next to the fireplace, her book still on her lap. He had to wake her up, or she’d be stiff and sore in the morning. He didn’t, though. He wanted to watch her sleep a little while longer. She leaned over and put her head down on the arm of the chair. A blanket covered her legs, but her shirt had hiked up enough for him to see a little of the smooth skin on her tummy. He would love to be the arm of that chair, and have her resting against him. He’d reach around and hold her close to him.
Anyone else, he’d wake up and carry into his bedroom, and do what he wanted. But this was Renie, and if the day came that they took their relationship to a different level, it couldn’t be spur of the moment. It was too big a risk for them. Or for him anyway. If she weren’t in his life, there would be a big, gaping hole that no one else could fill.
She was his best friend. He wondered if she realized that. She shifted, and her eyes opened.
“Movie over?”
“Yep. I was about to wake you up and tell you to go downstairs to bed.”
She stood and walked to the stairs, pulling the blanket behind her. She looked like a little girl.
“Night, Billy,” she said without turning around.
“Night, Renie, I had a real nice night.”
“Me too,” he heard her say as she descended the stairs.
Billy was up before she was the next morning. He was sure of it because he went downstairs and peeked in on her. He closed the door behind him, for two reasons. He didn’t want her to wake up and find him stalking her in her sleep. And, if he hadn’t, he might have been tempted to crawl in bed with her.
Renie rolled over and puffed up her pillow. She was still tired, but the aromas wafting from the kitchen made her stomach rumble. It smelled like bacon. Who would be cooking bacon? Had Dottie ridden over this morning and made them breakfast? She couldn’t stand not knowing, so she threw a sweatshirt over her pajamas, and ran upstairs.
Coffee. Someone made coffee.
When Renie rounded the corner, she gasped at the sight in front of her. The kitchen was a disaster. Bowls, pots, pans, and utensils covered nearly every surface. A trail of flour wound all the way around the island and over to the back door. This couldn’t be Dottie’s mess, but she didn’t see Billy.
“Boo!” he said, sneaking up behind her.
She jumped. “What happened in here?”
“Whaddaya mean? I’m cooking breakfast.”
She walked to the stove. He’d splattered what looked like pancake batter all over it. The look on Billy’s face was so…hopeful, she had to tread carefully so she didn’t hurt his feelings.
“It smells heavenly.” She wasn’t lying. “What did you make?”
“Bacon and pancakes. I was thinking about making eggs too, but I don’t know how you like ’em. Which made me feel kinda bad. You’ve made eggs for me at least a hundred times. I bet you even remember how I like ’em, don’t ya?”
“You don’t remember because I like eggs lots of different ways.” She patted him on the cheek, and he flinched, again.
“Billy, is there a reason you don’t want me to touch you?”
She got a cup out of the cupboard and poured herself some coffee. He still hadn’t answered, and she was annoyed enough to press him about it. “We talked about this last night. I told you it might be too weird for me to stay here. If you’ve decided you agree, all you have to do is say so.”
“I answered you last night. I want you here. I mean Jesus, Renie, look at all this.” He waved his hand around in the direction of his mess. “I made you breakfast.”
He looked dejected. Her natural inclination was to rub his back and tell him how much she appreciated it. Or hug him. But since he flinched every time she touched him, she didn’t.
“Thank you, Billy. When will it be ready?”
“It’s ready now, go sit down.”
“I’ll sit if you stop pouting. You look like somebody kicked your puppy.”
“I suck at this. You cook for me all the time, but all I did was make a damn mess of the kitchen.”
He’d done a good job of making the biggest mess she’d ever seen, but he’d put his heart into it. She leaned over and kissed his cheek.
“This is the nicest thing you’ve ever done for me, Billy. It’s sweet, and I’m starving.”
He grinned, and when she kissed his cheek, didn’t flinch.
“I’ll even clean the kitchen.”
“Nah, I can’t let you do that, but I’ll let you help.”
Breakfast was good, and nothing was burnt. The pancakes had an odd taste, not bad, just different. She was afraid to ask him what he put in the batter.
“Wanna go for a ride later?” he asked.
“I’d love it. But, Billy, I wish you’d stop flinching every time I touch you. It’s starting to give me a complex.”
Dance with Me (Cowboys of Crested Butte Book 2) Page 2