by Kaylee Song
I needed to keep her on her toes.
"Hello?" I said as I grabbed a stack of papers. I wasn't going to let her make me nervous. No woman had ever made me nervous before. I wanted to be calm. Cool. Collected.
If I couldn't win her over with my money and my charm I had to figure out another way. It couldn't be too hard. Could it?
I scanned to the back of the documents and started signing. Might as well get these things done.
"Hey, what do you need?" I asked.
"I wanted to talk."
"I got that. You've said it about five times now."
A long pause on her end. Was she nervous? Now I was interested.
"What do you need, Rose?" I asked again, more forcefully this time.
"I think we need to talk about rules. For our dates."
"Rules?" I asked. Oh, now this was good. I put down my pen and focused on the conversation at hand. "What do you mean?"
"Well, I'm going on ten dates with you for money. But that doesn't mean I'm-"
“You don't need to say it, Rose. I already know.” I wasn't going to allow her to imply in any way shape or form that she was a prostitute. That wasn't what this was about. This was about getting to know her. About her remembering who I was. “I don’t think you’re Pretty Woman, if that’s what you are asking.”
About rekindling that spark we had all those years ago. I could already see her lips parted, smell the taste of her mouth. She broke my heart when she left. Didn't give me a reason, not really, she just took off.
Somehow she believes it was all my fault. I had to find out why. I had to understand what happened.
"I just want it to be clear. Ten dates. Nothing is expected. Nothing." She sounded nervous. Hell, she was nervous. I could hear it in the way her voice was shaking.
"Yes. Absolutely. This isn't about that, Rose. Trust me. If I needed-"
"I don't need to hear about your escapades." Curt. Cold. Her nerves were gone. "I get that it's about your ego or whatever, just, I wanted to be sure."
I let that last little dig slide. I wasn't going to chew her out for it. I knew she was struggling. Knew she was looking for a way to blow this all up. I wasn't going to give it to her. I wasn't going to provide the out in this case.
She was stuck with me. At least for ten dates.
"That's fine, but that doesn't mean I can't hope for more." I said. I let my voice dip down a little, let her know what my intention was. If she understood exactly what I wanted she would claim she'd been tricked.
I was on to her, but that didn't mean I wasn't going to keep playing these games.
I wanted more of them. I wanted more of her.
"I'll see you Friday." I double checked my desk calendar. It would be perfect. I knew exactly where I would take her.
"Friday?" She asked.
"Five-thirty. I'll pick you up at your place,” I confirmed.
"Fine. Date number one." She was so stubborn about it, but she would like it. She’d see.
That's right, it was the first, and if I did it right I'd leave her wanting more than ten.
Chapter Five
Why am I doing this? I knew the answer. Because he was hot, and I wanted to.
It wasn’t about the money, and I knew it.
I looked down at my outfit then back up at the mirror. He'd texted to tell me to dress casual. Well. This was casual. A pair of jeans, a nice peasant top and a jacket perfect for this balmy spring weather. No matter where we went I had a feeling I was going to fit in.
Laurel Montana was not the most upscale of towns. They had a couple of nice restaurants, one of which catered, but the rest of it was exactly what you would expect of a small town community.
I couldn't imagine where he was taking me but I knew that if I was dressed like this I wouldn't need to worry.
"That's what you are wearing? On a date?" My mom asked as she looked up at me through her glasses. Her bodice-ripper romance was wide open as she shook her head. "You have to go out looking nicer than that."
I sighed. "He told me to make sure I was wearing jeans, mom. I'm not going to get all fancied up and find out he wants to take me to the Rodeo in Billings."
There is a good chance that's where we were going. I liked the thought of it. The busy crowds, the number of people around, the anonymity of it.
"Whatever. You could at least unbutton the top button of that little blouse," she said as she raised her eyebrows.
"You're one to talk," I joked back. She hadn't so much as looked at another man since my dad died. I knew that was the truth, even if I wasn't living here. She never talked about guys, never mentioned dating, and when I did she shrugged it off.
"I read a lot of romance, I should know," she said as she smiled.
Sadie stood up, waggling her back end as she walked over to the door then back to me, then the door. It meant someone was here.
Wyatt.
"Wait for him to come to you," my mom said as she saw me heading for the door. "I want to see you two off."
"Mom, we've already done this."
"I know, but that date was a dud. I don't think this one will be." She put down her reading glasses and shifted her hips so that she was sitting.
I wondered if she was lonely. If she'd even thought about dating. I knew she missed my dad, but she didn't have to be alone. She didn't have to live in solitude.
I felt the weight of guilt weigh down on me. I should’ve been a better daughter. I should’ve come home to visit more. I’d stayed away, swore I wasn’t interested in coming back. I’d put up a wall between us that I never should’ve. She was my mom.
I should’ve been there for her more than I was.
“Where are you going, sweetie?” she asked as she stood up and looked into my eyes. “The look in your eyes tells me you were far away, and they weren’t happy thoughts. You need to think happy thoughts.”
She put her hands on my shoulders.
“I miss dad.” Don’t cry, I told myself. Whatever you do don’t cry.
“I do too,” she said, her eyes soft. She was probably holding back the same tears I was. It didn’t seem to get any easier. No matter how much time passed.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t here,” I admitted. I should’ve been there for them. It was wrong of me.
“You’re here now. I don’t know for how long, but that doesn’t matter. I’m just glad you’re home.”
A soft knock on the door broke the spell of the moment. Why was I nervous? I felt nervous. I felt almost scared. I shouldn’t. It was just a stupid contractual date. A way to get one over on me. A way to force me to live through the pain of the past.
Maybe it was a punishment for leaving. I didn’t know, I was just glad to be angry instead of nervous. I balled my fists and then answered the door.
“Are you ready?” I asked as I grabbed my coat. I didn’t want him to linger. I didn’t want him to talk to my mom. I wanted to make sure that this remained what it was. A business deal. So I set my jaw and pushed my way out onto the porch.
“I wanted to at least say hello to your momma, first,” He said as he moved around me and waved at her. “I hope you are doing well, Ms. Shannon.”
“Please, call me Miranda,” she said.
"Miranda." He smiled. He was good at that. Good at the charm. No wonder Suzan called him a player. It was obvious that charisma came natural to him.
I'd been caught up in it before, when I was young. But I wasn't going to let it happen to me again. Not this time.
“So, where are we going?” she asked as she looked me over. Her ice queen persona melted the longer she was in the car with me.
She was still just as pretty when she wasn’t mad.
“I thought we’d take it slow this time. Something easy. Something public.”
She raised her eyebrow. “You figured I wouldn’t be charmed so easily, huh?” she asked.
I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that it was part of it. My original goal was to make her regret leaving in t
he first place. Leaving me, leaving here.
But I’d failed miserably at that, so I decided to take it slow.
Let her see the man I really was.
* * *
“A festival?” she asked as she looked at the sign on Parkville’s banner across main street.
“Founder’s Day.” I confirmed as I pulled into the little parking lot. The strung lights framed the idyllic small town setting. It was a little town, even smaller than Laurel, but the charm of it had me every time.
“And you want to do this?” she asked.
I nodded. “I want to do this.”
“It doesn’t seem like your style.” She said. I knew Rose didn’t mean it as an insult, but it couldn’t be anything but.
“You seem to have a lot of assumptions about me.” Seemed like she’d already decided I was no good.
“Have you really changed that much?” she asked, a coy smile looking up at me.
I dodged the question. I didn’t want to answer it. I didn’t want to think about it. I just wanted to look into her eyes and see her. The whole world wasn’t out to get me. She was.
And I was trying to figure out a way to make her see me for what I was. For who I was.
“Let’s go,” I said as I grabbed her hand and pulled her towards the festival. It was an excuse, really. A chance to grab her by the hand and touch her. A chance for the feel of my skin against hers to give her that little shock of electricity. That reminder that we worked together. Hell, that we were pretty darn good together.
In her eyes I was just a bad boy, a player. Someone who turn and ran as soon as things got hard, and hell, she was right. At least for the most part. But Rose was the one girl I didn’t want to run from. She was all kinds of crazy complicated, but when she was there I knew that I wanted her near me.
We were forced together, opposite charges that couldn’t tear each other away.
I had to prove to her that I was worth it. That I wasn’t just some bad decision that she’d made. Not just once, but twice.
I had to show her that I wasn’t just that guilty walk of shame after a night of partying. That I was more.
That I could be more.
I was so caught up in thinking about how I was going to impress her that I didn’t see the car coming, I didn’t see the giant puddle we were approaching, and I didn’t expect it to splash up into her face.
And above all I probably should not have laughed after it happened.
“Are you okay?” I asked as I wiped the mud off her face. It was all over her coat, her shirt, and up onto her cheek.
She just glared at me, frozen in anger. Damn, this wasn’t going very well.
“Let’s get you cleaned up, you can wear the plaid shirt I have in the car, it’ll go well with those jeans.” At least they were unscathed.
A slow smile spread across her face and she laughed, then she reached up and wiped the mud off her cheek and smeared it right on to my face.
“You are such a jerk,” she said. but in a way that was more endearing than anything. I wanted to capture this moment. Build on it.
I was. I could be a grade A asshole, but she didn’t mean it. Not right now. So I scooped her up and pulled her into me as we tickled and wrestled right there in the middle of the sidewalk. We were all tangled up when we paused. I looked into her eyes and watched her excitement turn into awkwardness.
“Do you want that shirt?” I asked as I looked down at her, setting her down onto the sidewalk.
“Yeah, that would be nice,” She said. I could almost hear her reminding herself that this was just a contractual obligation.
That it didn’t mean anything.
But for just a moment, it did. I’d gotten her attention. I ran back to the truck and grabbed my shirt. I wouldn’t forget that smile, or that look in her eyes. She was fighting her feelings.
“Here you go,” I said as I walked back to her. She’d already stripped down to just a tank top as she pulled on my shirt, wrapping herself up in it. She tied it up at the front. Now she looked like she belonged in Montana.
“What’s next?” she asked as she bit her lip.
“I’m thinking funnel fries,” I admitted as I pulled her towards a booth.
Maybe if I sweetened her up a little she’d sweeten up to me.
I wrapped his shirt around me and tried not to let the sent of it make me blush. It smelled like him, and it was all over me.
Part of me wished it was him.
Stop it, I chided myself. This was exactly what I didn’t want to happen. Exactly what I was trying to avoid. He was working his magic on me, and I wasn’t immune to it.
No matter how much I told myself I didn’t want anything to do with him, he weaseled his way into my thoughts and set up shop there. Next thing I knew I’d have to evict him just to have space in my own mind.
The smell of funnel cake pulled me out of my imaginary argument. The one where I tried desperately to convince myself I didn’t want to feel more than just his shirt around my body.
“Hey Marcy, can I get two?” he asked as he leaned into the booth.
“Do you know everyone this side of the state?” I asked as she greeted him.
“Wyatt? Everyone here knows Wyatt. He’s a hit over at the Twisted Pony,” she said. I watched her wink.
“Twisted Pony?” I asked.
“You don’t need to-“ he started but she grinned and interrupted him.
“He’s a hit on open mic night. Sings and plays some of the best guitar I’ve ever heard.”
“Guitar? You play guitar?” I asked, grinning. I couldn’t imagine a man like him crooning over an acoustic.
And then I remembered how much tail those guys usually got. I could totally picture it. I grinned and looked up at him. “Well, wonders never cease.”
“I was in a band in high school, but you probably don’t remember that,” he said as he reached up for the two paper plates filled with confectionary bigger than I had imagined.
“Oh my god, that’s huge!” I exclaimed as I grabbed the cake from him and take a deep breath as the smell wafts up into my face. Sugar and fried dough overwhelm me. I tried not to giggle.
“That’s what she said!” Some random teenage voice behind me shouted, and I turned to look, but it was too late. He was just another voice in the crowd.
But Wyatt’s chuckle was unmistakeable. I turned and shot him a look, but he just shrugged.
“I didn’t say it,” he grinned. He might not have, but I still smacked him on the shoulder.
“So, what else do you have planned?” I asked we wandered through the booths, looking at the art work, the self-produced CDs, and other things the townspeople of Parkville had for sale. It was all so quaint. Nothing fancy or high brow, nothing like the old Wyatt. But somehow this scene fit. He just belonged here among all these people. Most of whom waved at him or said hello.
This was a part of who he was now.
“I was thinking maybe we could check out the-“ he started, but he stopped his sentence right in the middle. I didn’t see why, at first, but as soon as I realized what he was looking at I understood.
A big man was towering over a small child next to the ring toss, his hand raised up high as he screamed at her. “I told you not to drop that ice cream! I just paid for it. I told you to keep it in both hands.”
He was going to hit her. Right there. In the middle of all those people. I didn’t even notice it until after Wyatt did. I didn’t even realize it was happening. He was going to hit her, and hard too, I could tell by the way he had his hand cocked back.
How had I not seen it?
“Come on now, man. Why don’t you give the kid a break, she’s little,” Wyatt interjected as he walked right between them. He put his body between the large man and the child’s. “Here, I’ll even buy her an ice cream, put it in a cup instead of a cone so she won’t drop it.”
“Please, Hank?” The little girl’s voice was so small, so fragile, it sounded like it was about t
o break.
“Here, sweetie, let me go take you to get a new ice cream,” I said as I swooped in and grabbed her hand, we were right next to the line for ice cream. She’d probably had her own cone for a few seconds, if that.
“Ungrateful little brat. I took her and her momma in and all she does is waste my money. And you, who the hell do you think you are?” The large man turned his attention on Wyatt, but I had the girl and I wasn’t about to let her go. From the slur of his voice made me wince.
“Calm down, sir. I’m only trying to help. She’s small, and it’s clear she didn’t mean it. It was just an accident.” Wyatt was calm, his face completely unchanged, like he was talking to just anyone.
Not a total monster who was about to hit a girl for something anyone could have done. Heck, I probably could’ve done it.
“Don’t you tell me to calm down. Look, I don’t know who you think you are, but you don’t tell me how to parent.” I could tell by his stagger and the way his words smashed together that he was drunk.
“I’m not trying to tell you anything,” Wyatt said. He was starting to get defensive and I was afraid a fight would break out.
Not because I was afraid that Wyatt couldn’t handle himself, but because I was worried about this little girl being exposed to more violence than she already was.
“What’s your name, sweetie?” I asked as we got up to the counter. “Would you like a piece of my funnel cake?”
“Ella.” She said then she added, “I’m not supposed to talk to strangers.”
“My name is Rose. Ella, is your momma here?”
She nodded.
“Okay, what kind of ice cream do you like? We’ll get you an ice cream then find your mom.” I couldn’t make out what Wyatt and the big man were saying, I could just tell from the sound of their voices that it was getting worse.
“Bubblegum flavor!” Ella said as she walked up to the counter. At least she was innocently oblivious. As I was paying I caught a woman coming towards us with a fierce look in her eyes.