Casanova Cowboy (A Morgan Mallory Story)

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Casanova Cowboy (A Morgan Mallory Story) Page 22

by Loomis, Lisa


  Ryan’s drink and the second shot came, and I downed that too. Luke cocked his head at me, his eyes squinting, questioning.

  “One more, Luke,” I said, pushing the shot glass forward.

  “Are you trying to prove you can get drunk or what?” Ryan asked.

  “Or what,” I said with a hint of belligerence.

  Luke took his time bringing me the third shot. I could tell he was dragging his feet, not happy about getting it for me. When he set it down, his lips were tight and he rubbed his forehead rapidly, that what the hell, girl look.

  I let it sit. I could feel the liquor starting to take me down a notch, relaxing the tension in my shoulders, the tension in my mind. I stared into my wine glass. I was sad Ryan had come. I didn’t want to dissect my feelings anymore; it hurt too much. I’d had time to think, so had he, and his thoughts whatever they were weren’t the same obviously. I felt like the butterflies wings had been crushed.

  I decided I’d sleep on Luke’s sailboat tonight, where he called home. He was my buddy, and I had done it before when I didn’t want to drive home after a late shift. I wasn’t loaded yet, but I would be. I wouldn’t drive, wouldn’t chance it. I could feel the pressure at the back of my eyes; feel the knot in my stomach. I picked up the shot and drank it.

  “I’ll be right back,” I said, excusing myself.

  I went to the bathroom and into a stall, sliding the latch, locking the door. I took a deep breath and turned around several times, tilting my face up to the ceiling, hoping it would clear my thoughts. I sat down on the seat and tried to figure out what to do. I wanted to run. No, I should face whatever it was, or wasn’t, between us, hear what he had to say. I walked back to the bar and got on the stool. Luke moved to the other side of the bar, sensing the tension, and I focused on him to avoid looking at Ryan.

  “I’m not sure about my feelings, and I’m afraid,” he started.

  “Afraid?” I said, turning to look at him.

  He stared back at me, his blue eyes serious. I could see dismay in his expression.

  “Morgan, you threw your feelings out there like I knew. You’ve never viewed me as anything but a friend, and all of a sudden you switch gears, how was I to see that coming? And yes, I’m afraid. I don’t know if I understand your feelings, and what you want from me. And if you want more from me, I’m afraid I’ll ruin things, lose your friendship, and your mom’s friendship,” he said.

  The hurt rose up in me. So that’s what his visit was about, losing friendships. In a way, I thought he’d always loved me, but that I was the one not open to more. I thought when I told him my feelings, he would be happy, happy I finally figured it out, finally loved the good guy. I’d certainly misread it. I took a drink of my wine. It tasted bitter after the tequila making me wrinkle my nose. I watched Luke make two more drinks for the couple across the bar, and I twirled my wine glass as I considered what Ryan had said.

  My feelings, without me being aware, had progressed to love; I wasn’t sure I could go back. I was never good at backing my feelings down, making them go away. They’d slowly developed over time, four years of time with Ryan.

  I’d spent years looking in a million different directions for love, all the wrong directions. He’d been right in front of me since our first meeting in Park City. It had hit me so hard the night I started to tell him. I remembered the jumbled feelings at the restaurant, and when he took me in his arms in front of his place, god, I could see us standing there on the curb, the expression on his face after I’d said what I said.

  My mind raced back to Mathew, and I wondered why men I fell totally in love with wanted to be friends, men who could sleep with their friend, but not love her. My emotions were too new and too raw to contain. I couldn’t stop the words before they spilled out.

  “Ryan, you won’t lose my friendship, but it’s got to change. We need to spend less time together and no more sleeping together. I can’t go from being a friend to a lover, and then back again anymore. Not with you, not with anyone,” I said miserably.

  I reached for my wine, and Ryan pushed it away.

  “Morgan, you don’t need it,” Ryan said. “You’ve already had three shots. Can I please drive you home?”

  “I don’t need it, but I want it,” I protested. “And no, you can’t drive me home, Luke’s taking me home.”

  I said it, wanting to elicit some form of emotional response, for Ryan to break down and profess he had strong feelings too, to attempt a start.

  Luke’s right eyebrow went up, and I knew he’d heard me. He was my favorite bartender at work, and he could tell I was trying to torture Ryan. Make him wonder. In the past, Ryan had questioned me about my relationship with Luke. I’d talked to Ryan about our antics at work, how Luke made me laugh, made a shift fun.

  I had told Ryan that Luke and I were strictly friends, but I wasn’t sure he believed me. As Ryan knew, friends could mean a whole lot of things. Nothing had ever happened between Luke and me; he was like a big brother, and that’s how I thought of him. I certainly wasn’t going to say anything to reassure Ryan of that now, though.

  “You’re going to his boat?” Ryan asked as he fidgeted slightly on his barstool.

  “Yeah, it’s just down the street. It’s a small sailboat, but he has room for me. He can bring me back in the morning to get my car,” I said with a slow flip of my hair over my shoulder.

  Ryan’s eyes narrowed at me, his expression one of displeasure.

  “I’m willing to drive you home, to your place,” he protested.

  As much as I would have liked that, I knew I would be hoping for more and right now there wasn’t more to be had.

  “I don’t want you to, end of discussion,” I said as I twisted away from him, toward Luke.

  Chapter 29

  Ryan left the bar reluctantly, and Luke took my drunken ass to his boat and made me a bed on the couch. He even listened to my whining pity party. When Luke pushed, I admitted to being in love with Ryan. I told him what I’d said to Ryan the night of the train wreck.

  “I don’t know, Morgan, I think you were pretty clear,” Luke said.

  “Why doesn’t he understand?” I asked.

  “I hate to say it, girlie, but maybe he doesn’t want to,” Luke said. “He may just want to keep it friends-with-benefits.”

  “Luke, why do you have to be so honest?”

  Finally he tucked me into the bed he’d made for me, with a light blanket that smelled of the sea, a bit salty and moist. I woke to the sound of seagulls and wondered for a minute where I was. Luke’s boat, oh shit my pity party, argh. I didn’t feel like I should move too fast, my head felt too thick. My mouth felt like a desert storm had blown through it, my teeth wearing sweaters of sand. I opened my eyes slowly.

  “Hey, sunshine, you awake?” Luke asked, peering down the stairs from the deck.

  “Oh god, I’m sorry,” I said as I shielded my eyes with my hand. Looking up at him, with the sun behind him, shot a pain through my head. I remembered Ryan coming to the bar and the shots and wine. I vaguely remembered asking Luke to give me more while we talked on his boat.

  “Head hurt?” he asked, expertly leaping down the stairs.

  He went to the wood cabinet above the small kitchen sink and slid it open. I could hear him remove something and shake it, a lid pop, and another shake. He turned towards me as I uncovered my eyes. He held his palm out with three aspirin in it.

  “Orange juice or a little hair of the dog?” he teased.

  “Oh,” I said, sitting up, recalling that I had one of his T-shirts on.

  It was from Mexico, Hussong’s Cantina, a bar in Ensenada that a lot of us from San Diego had been to.

  “Orange juice,” I answered, my voice catching in my dry throat.

  “A beer would probably make you feel better. Three tequila shots and a couple glasses of wine, ouch. Bad combo,” he said, filling a small glass with orange juice. “I told you that you didn’t need more, but you wouldn’t listen.”
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br />   He came and handed me the juice and pills. I threw the pills in my mouth and washed them down. My head throbbed with the small gesture and I winced. The orange juice tasted cool and delicious. I glanced up shyly at Luke and he grinned, knowing how I felt all too well.

  “Pity party is over, girlie, you want to go back to your car or go sailing?” he asked.

  I loved that Luke could be so spontaneous. I rubbed my forehead, trying to think about what I had going on. It was Saturday, so no school. I didn’t work again until Sunday night. I needed to clean house, but that could wait.

  “Sailing, but I don’t have a swimsuit,” I answered.

  “I can fix you up with some shorts and you can tie the T-shirt up. Or go topless,” he said and flashed me a challenging smile.

  “Yeah, you would hate that,” I said, sitting up. “Get this boat moving, I need some fresh air. Do you have a toothbrush I can use?”

  Luke did everything required to get the sailboat out of the harbor. I was useless, he didn’t even ask for assistance. I accepted the shorts he offered and sat up top in the sun next to where he navigated. When we got out to the open ocean, I helped him with the sails and then resumed my sitting position. He sailed up the San Diego coast, tacking back and forth while I breathed in the sea air, feeling the wind tugging at my hair, blowing it back from my face. I tried to recall all the bits and pieces from last night, the air helping to clear away some of the cobwebs.

  “Luke, I suck at love,” I said.

  “Literally?” he joked.

  “Fuck you. You have sex on the brain all the time,” I said.

  “Sex on the brain is a good thing. Even better when it’s on Mr. Happy,” he said. “Beats boohooing over some whacko friend who doesn’t know a good thing when it’s staring him in the face.”

  I ignored his Mr. Happy comment. What is it with the names men call their penises?

  “Why doesn’t he?” I asked.

  “Asking the wrong guy there, Morgan. From what I know about you, you either love-‘em-and-leave-‘em or you fall hard. Like the guy you told me about from, where was that, Santa Cruz?” Luke asked.

  “San Jose,” I replied.

  “Okay, San Jose, I think you told me that went on for years. Long-distance romance goes south, we’ll call that one. Get it, goes south?” he said and laughed at his own joke.

  “Then there was car crash guy,” he continued.

  “Max,” I said rolling my eyes at him.

  “Yes Max, what was the point in hanging out there? He made you feel bad about yourself, and you let him, for years. Then there was Captain Blake who had it for you, but you didn’t for him,” Luke said pleased with his repertoire.

  “Screw that, you know Blake’s game. You’ve watched it from behind the bar. What girl wants that?” I asked. “Unless they are looking for hook-up-and-goodbye. And back up, I hung in there with Max because I thought I loved him.”

  “Well,” he chuckled. “You’re an awful bad student, don’t get it easy do you? Now Trevor, that nice-looking boy toy you played with. That’s the only one who made perfect sense to me: sex. You both were in it for the sex, and you both knew it. Now there’s Ryan, who you have your heart messed up with. I’ll call him oops I fell in love with my friend. He’s afraid to lose your friendship, yet he hasn’t had a problem sleeping with you over the years. Do you not see a pattern here?”

  He glanced from the boat wheel to me and stared me down. I looked away from him, feeling foolish. When I heard it like that, it sounded terrible and I didn’t have a good answer. Yes, I’d made some foolish choices. Wasn’t that how one figured it out though?

  “Now if you ever picked a guy like me, then you might find the right kind of guy,” he said, and then laughed loud and hearty.

  “Stall the sails, I want to jump in,” I said, feeling like I might get sick.

  “Are you sure?” he asked. “It’s going to be cold.”

  “I know, and I don’t care,” I said making my way to the side. “Maybe it will make me feel human again. Oh, and when I get out, I’ll take the hair of the dog you offered.”

  Luke turned the boat into the wind and let the boat slow and stall, the sails flapping in the breeze. I stood on the side and stared down at the dark ocean water, small ripples making the surface look rumpled.

  “Go,” he said, flipping his freckled hand at me.

  I stripped off my borrowed clothes and dove overboard. The cold hit me the minute I entered the water, but I stayed under, swimming away from the boat until I was out of air. It was as if being underwater was an escape, me wanting to wash all the cares away. When I surfaced, Luke was staring at me, a funny grin on his face.

  “Well, hell, girl, you’re braver than I thought. I didn’t think you would do that, especially naked,” he called out to me.

  “It’s cold,” I said, swimming back towards the boat. “I’ll need a towel.”

  “Of course it’s cold, I warned ya.”

  He left the wheel and went downstairs, coming up with an oversized towel. Luke had seen me naked before, when Liz and I went sailing with him and his then-girlfriend, Beth, and we all skinny-dipped in the ocean at Beth’s insistence. It had been in the middle of the day, sun shining hot, but it had been June then, not November.

  “Put it by the top of the ladder and turn around,” I said.

  “No chance,” he said. “You got yourself in there naked, you can get out naked. I never made any promise not to look.”

  “Perv.”

  “Damn right, a pretty, naked girl is never sore on the eyes,” he laughed.

  Luke and I were clear on our relationship, so it didn’t bother me to awfully bad that he would look. I climbed up the ladder and shivered as I dried off. I wrapped the towel around myself tightly and sat down.

  “Ryan apparently is a very stupid man,” he said, shaking his head. “A body like that, he should be busting down the door to get to you.”

  People’s looks mattered, but I’d come to realize love had to be more; there was a lot more to it than just physical. Mathew had driven that point home.

  “He’s not stupid, I think he wants to play. And at first we were playing, the sex part I’m talking about. Like Trevor, I thought we were both clear on what it was. I didn’t think my feelings would get involved, and they did. They bled from friendship to more. I told you about Karen and her sister and their mother, right? Holy shit, figure that one out—get the whole family,” I said.

  Luke laughed loudly as he resumed his place behind the wheel.

  “You’re right, he’s not stupid,” he said. “What was it you called him?”

  “I asked him if he thought he was a Casanova Cowboy,” I laughed.

  “Like a Don Juan, gets all the pretty women.”

  “It’s the boots. When he has those on, I know he’s working to get lucky. Being a beach girl, I’m used to the flip-flops. Kinda sexy, the boots, I mean, and I liked it when he used to wear his hat. Never thought I was much of a cowboy type, but he’s subtle. Stop,” I suddenly shouted, startling Luke.

  “Stop what?” he shouted back.

  He looked at me troubled, wrinkles appearing across his forehead. I felt the sting in my nose.

  “I don’t want to talk about him anymore. Don’t let me,” I said in a hard voice. “Put a choke hold on me if I do.”

  I slumped into the cushions feeling like I might never find real love. Luke turned the wheel so the wind would once again fill the sails, and we continued down the coast. I liked the billowy space the wind made when it filled the main sail and I climbed up into it as I had many times. I lay back against the taught sheeting with my feet on the boom, my face towards the sun. Smiling inwardly I let my towel slip down to my feet, and stood naked in the sail. We were far enough out that no one could see except Luke.

  “You’re a torturous wench,” he chuckled once he realized I’d let the towel fall.

  “Don’t look, and you won’t torture yourself,” I teased tossing him a gl
ance over my shoulder.

  It made me feel free, me against the sun and the sea. Between the swim and this feeling of freedom, I definitely felt better. Reminded there was a whole world out there and that I would get through my feelings for Ryan too.

  I fanned out my wet hair against the sail to help the wind dry it. I spread out my arms and closed my eyes, feeling the chill of the fall air flow across my body. I shivered although the sun was enough to not be cold. I was angry with Ryan and myself. At the same time, Luke had a valid point; maybe Ryan liked it just the way it was. I wished he could see me now and feel jealous, and then I realized he probably wouldn’t. He would figure it was typical Morgan and her craziness. Well screw him; much of my impulsiveness was fun and made people laugh. I would find someone who saw that as something good about me.

  “Let me know if you decide to tack,” I said.

  Luke laughed; he liked my craziness. He would always tease me about what kind of underwear I was wearing at work, and I would flash him when no one was looking. It had gotten to be our shift joke. Luke had no shortage of women in his life, so our antics were just that. I finally wrapped the towel back around me and climbed down.

  “Can I have that beer now?” I asked.

  “Help yourself,” he said, “but you need to go home tonight, so no tequila for you.”

  “Do you have tequila?” I teased. “And what, you don’t want a naked girl on your boat, spending the night?” I joked.

  “Not a naked girl I have no chance with. A naked girl whose heart’s all tangled up with someone else,” Luke said.

  Chapter 30

  Luke was a great guy. I felt like he was about the only man I knew who wouldn’t take advantage of me. We were Team Irish at work: Luke Grady and Morgan Mallory, and the whole crew enjoyed our silliness. That day when I got home, there was a message on the answering machine from Ryan; he asked me to call. I called Mom instead.

  “Mom, let Ryan know I’m okay. He wants me to call, and I can’t. I know he’ll pick up Bo, so just tell him you talked to me, and I’m fine,” I said.

  “What is it with you two?” she asked.

 

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