Wild, Crazy Hearts

by Melissa Foster

  His jaw tightened, and for a moment he stared down at the sorbet like it had become a villain. “It is a sore subject, but I guess we can’t avoid it.”

  She sighed with relief. “Not if we want to move forward. I took a million pictures of things I wanted to show you. I also bought you the cutest shirt that said ‘World’s Best Daddy’ in French, but I was so frazzled when I left Paris, I left my bag of gifts on the sidewalk when I got into the cab.”

  He lifted his chin, meeting her gaze. “I love knowing you bought that for me, that you think that way about me. Thank you.” He rolled his shoulders back and said, “I’d like to see them and hear about your trip.”

  “Really?” she asked tentatively. “Because you kind of look like it’s the last thing you want to do.”

  “That doesn’t mean it’s right for me to feel this way.” He pulled her phone from his pocket and set it on the table. “Show me the pictures.”

  She scrolled through them, showing him the Eiffel Tower, the Louvre Museum, and other tourist attractions, but her heart wasn’t in it. When she was there, she’d imagined he might be just as excited to see them as she’d been to take them, but now she realized how wrong she was.

  When she came to a picture taken on a boat cruising the Seine with her, Andre, and Mathieu, Trace said, “Stop.” Anger flashed in his eyes. “Who are those guys?”

  She pointed to the mahogany-haired man and said, “This is Mathieu. He’s writes movies for television. He was only there for a few days, but he was nice.” She pointed to the dark-haired man and said, “And this is Andre. He’s a physician and he runs Operation SHINE, which brings medical clinics to newly developing nations. Andre was there longer than Mathieu. They showed me around Paris, and Andre and I talked a lot. He was pining for his ex, and I was pining for you.”

  “Andre. The guy you said was the father.” He looked away.

  “How do you know that?”

  He met her gaze and said, “People talk.”

  “But I only told my family. Who…?”

  “It doesn’t matter.” The muscles in his jaw jumped. “You left me here and then saw Paris, the most romantic city there is, with some other dude?”

  “It wasn’t like I planned it, or even enjoyed it,” she said quickly.

  He shifted his eyes away again, teeth grinding.

  “Please don’t do that. Don’t look away,” she pleaded.

  The instinct to crawl into his lap and kiss the pain away was so strong, she fisted her hands to keep from moving, determined to change things for the better without using sex.

  “Nothing happened with either of them. I have not even kissed another guy since I was nineteen, despite the rumors that I shouldn’t have used to fuel our fights. Andre helped me, Trace. He made me understand a lot of things, like that I needed to stop being afraid of the truth—that I wanted a commitment with you and that I love you with my whole being.”

  His eyes glowed with as much anger and hurt as love, and that stole her breath away.

  “You took off without me, Brindle, and it doesn’t matter if you were with friends or lovers. What matters is that being left behind sucked. And maybe that makes me a dick, but we said we’d be honest.”

  “It doesn’t make you a dick any more than I’m one for going away for so long. We’re really good at a lot of things, including fighting to cover up our feelings. But look where my trip got us. I’m sorry I needed to go, but we’re finally at a point in our relationship where we can look at each other and say ‘I love you’ instead of hiding behind the pretense of loving only the sex we have or each other’s bodies. We can finally tell each other what hurts and sit and talk instead of running away. That has to count for something.”

  “I know, but it still stings. I wanted to be the guy who saw those places with you. I want to be the guy you figure things out with, no matter how hard those things are.”

  “And I want you to,” she said quickly. “Just like I want to be the girl who is with you when you figure things out. Not Heather, not anyone else. A lot of our old relationship stings, Trace. Before I left, you told me that girl you met on the ski trip you went on last winter was coming to see you on her way to Florida.” A spear of jealousy sliced through her. “You want to talk about something that stung? I was in Paris trying to figure out how to fix our relationship, and I was miserable because I was thinking about you and Skanky Suzie.”

  “Damn it, Brindle.” He pushed to his feet, his chest expanding. “I haven’t had sex with another woman since we were teenagers! And I never cheated. We were broken up, and I was pissed and hurt, and damn it, I’d give anything to take those two times back.”

  The air left her lungs in a sound of disbelief. There was no faking the honesty in his eyes. “Two?”

  “Yes, two. Don’t you get it, Brindle?” he said angrily. “We both used jealousy to get back at each other, and the messed-up thing is that most of the time it was jealousy that caused the fights in the first place.”

  Tears burned her eyes, because all this time she’d thought he’d been with more women and because what he’d said was true. They’d behaved childishly for so long. Could they really learn how to have a mature relationship? “How can we possibly parent if we can’t even have dinner without a fight?”

  He sat beside her and took her hand in his, his dark eyes serious. “Do you love me?”

  “More than anything,” she said honestly.

  “Do you want this commitment? The baby, us, no more running away and assuming the worst?”

  “I do, Trace. I’m really trying to grow up and not make the same mistakes over again.” Swallowing hard, she said, “Do you want this commitment?”

  “Yes,” he said firmly. “But I think we have to accept each other’s shortcomings and not try to pretend they don’t exist. Darlin’, you’re a gorgeous, smart woman. Guys are attracted to you like white on rice, and sometimes jealousy gets the best of me. I doubt any of that is going to change anytime soon, but I’ll try not to overreact anymore.”

  “When women leer at you, I want to claw their eyeballs out, and even though I know it’s not your fault, sometimes I flirt with other guys to get back at you for it.” Admitting her immaturity was embarrassing, but she was determined to do everything within her power to make this right. “But I’m not going to repeat my old mistakes. There is nobody else I want to be with, and that’s not just because you’re handsome or good in bed. I love who you are, Trace, and I love who we are together despite our ridiculous fights. Yes, we have our faults, but we love each other, and if we both try, we’ll get past that silliness. Don’t you think we can get past it?”

  “Yeah, but I still think it’s part of who we are. We might always be jealous, both of us, but we need to find a better way to handle it. I’m not very good with words, so let me show you another way.”

  He turned the jukebox off and headed for the stage. She’d been so enthralled with the decorations and dinner, she hadn’t even noticed his guitar leaning against a chair in the middle of the stage. Her pulse quickened as he sat down, set his piercing dark eyes on her, and began playing John Legend’s “All of Me.” As he sang about her smart mouth and not being able to pin her down, every word sank in. She’d never listened to the lyrics closely enough to realize how perfectly they matched her and Trace. When he sang about adoring her imperfections, her love for him drove even deeper. He called her his downfall, his rhythm, and his muse, and he was all of those things to her, too. He sang about giving all of himself to her, and when he hit the chorus, gazing at her with so much love in his eyes she could feel it wrapping around her, she was overcome. Her throat thickened, and tears burned.

  Trace’s soulful voice drew her out of her seat and to the edge of the stage. This beautiful, patient man was all she’d ever wanted, and it pained her to think she’d nearly lost him over something as stupid as miscommunication. She was an English teacher, but when it came to Trace, the language she’d spent years studying and teaching ot
hers didn’t come easily.

  She was intent on fixing that. Starting right now.

  AS TRACE STRUMMED the last note, a tear slipped down Brindle’s cheek. Even though the shimmer in her eyes told him she was happy, that tear tugged at someplace deep inside him.

  He set the guitar down, and as he descended the steps and came to her side, she put her arms around his neck and said, “You have all of me, and with your help and patience, you’ll get the best of me.”

  He gathered her in his arms and kissed her, swaying to the beat of their hearts.

  He pressed a kiss beside her ear and said, “I love you, Brindle, and every part of you is the best. We’ll work on things, and no doubt we’ll get better, but whether you’re jealous, seductive, or bossy, I’ll take it all, darlin’, because I fell in love with all of you. Now, how about you show me some of those dance moves I love so much?”

  He left her long enough to turn on the jukebox.

  “Body Like a Backroad” came on, and he whistled, earning that sultry smile he adored. She took his hand and he spun her into his arms. Man, his girl could dance. They danced and kissed to songs of all speeds, dancing too slow to fast songs because neither one wanted to put space between them, then dancing all out to some of their favorites, like Hunter Hayes’s “21.” Trace felt an ethereal shift around them, like their very beings had changed and their lives were finally aligning on a path that would lead them in the right direction.

  When “All About Tonight” came on and Blake Shelton sang about dancing with every woman in the room, Trace spun Brindle around, and she said, “Good thing I’m the only one here, or we might have gotten ourselves into an unwanted tiff.”

  He tugged her against him, loving the challenging look in her eyes, and said, “You are all I ever need, darlin’. Don’t ever doubt that.”

  As they slow danced, he said, “For the record, I never saw Suzie while you were gone. She texted to try to see me, but I blew her off, and I never hooked up with her on the ski trip. The guys thought I did, and I never corrected them. That’s on me, and I’m sorry about that. But you and I were arguing about something, and hell, Brindle, it doesn’t matter why. What matters is that I was hurting, and I didn’t handle the situation very well. When you told me about the trip you’d planned, I lost my footing. The idea of going six weeks without you?” He shook his head. “That was too much for me. I only told you I agreed to see her to get back at you for planning that trip. After you left, I spent the first two weeks working like a madman during the day and staring at the bottom of any bottle I could find at night.”

  “I was just as bad off, but I was eating instead of drinking,” she said softly.

  “Thank you for taking care of our baby.” As he said it, the truth of his words hit him. That was exactly what she’d been doing by staying in Paris longer than she’d initially planned. She wasn’t just figuring things out. She was protecting their baby as best she could until she had them figured out. She’d probably started changing the minute she realized she was pregnant. The same way he had when he’d found out.

  Another song came on, jarring him from his thoughts. He realized Brindle was looking at him expectantly, waiting for him to say more. He twirled her around, and as they two-stepped, he said, “That was when Sin mentioned helping him with the football program. I figured it might keep me from going crazy wondering what you were doing halfway across the world without me. It was your voice in my head telling me that if I only get one shot at life, I should do the things that make me happy.”

  “I’ve said that to you a lot.”

  “Every damn time you pushed me to go away to school. I should thank you for that. All that pushing finally worked.”

  “Then that’s two good things that came from a really hard time for both of us.” She twirled again and said, “I saw you coaching today.”

  “You did? I didn’t see you on the field.”

  “I was up by the parking lot.”

  “You sneaky girl.” He dipped her over his arm, making her laugh. “Just like when I caught you and Morgyn watching us ride before dawn?” Before letting her up, he said, “Why do you spy on me, darlin’? Is it because it feels naughty?”

  She rose, and they danced across the floor. “Maybe that’s part of it. But did you ever think that maybe it’s because even after twelve years I still find you the most intriguing man I’ve ever known, and secretly watching you lets me admire you without it being about sex or anything other than reveling in how lucky I am?”

  “How do you do that, darlin’?”

  She twirled, looking at him over her shoulder, and said, “Do what?”

  “Make your sneakiness sound special.”

  “I’m just being honest.”

  The next song was faster, and she squealed. “Swing dance!”

  He laughed and fell into step with her. Trace’s parents had been holding Friday-night jam sessions for as long as he could remember. He’d learned to dance and play instruments practically since he could walk.

  “It was fun to see how much the kids liked you today,” Brindle said as they boogied. “And your smile while you were coaching? It was a crinkle-eyed smile.”

  He chuckled. “My skin doesn’t crinkle.”

  “Yes, it does,” she said. “And even from that distance, I could tell those crinkles were there.” She moved flawlessly as she said, “Sin told me about your not-a-big-deal offer, and it sounded like a very big deal. I hope you’re considering taking him up on it.”

  “There’s a lot to consider, but working with the kids does make me happy, so yeah, I’m thinking about it.”

  “Oh, Trace, that’s fantastic!” She launched herself into his arms. “You’ll be the best coach ever!”

  Her spun her around, and as he lowered her feet to the floor, he said, “Don’t get carried away just yet. Like I said, there’s a lot to consider.”

  “Well, consider this. If we have a boy, then one day you could coach our son.”

  His heart thudded harder. “Darlin’, you sure have a way with words.”

  The song ended, and Brindle wound her arms around his waist, moving seductively. That was Brindle, going from playful to sinful in the space of a second.

  “I’ve missed this so much, laughing, dancing”—he moved his hands down her back and grabbed her ass—“being each other’s worlds.”

  “I missed it, too. While I was away, I kept wishing you were there. I don’t ever want to be away from you again.”

  Trace wasn’t sure how long they danced, but at some point they made it out to the truck and he drove her home. They kissed at all the stoplights, and when they reached her apartment, they stumbled up the steps, lips locked the entire way, which sparked memories of the day Brindle had moved there. Trace and her family had helped her move in. She and Trace had stolen private moments with extra trips to the truck, and with Trace “helping” Brindle move boxes in one room or another, which really meant they were hiding in a closet or a bathroom because they couldn’t keep their hands off each other.

  That was four years ago.

  Not much had changed.

  When they reached her floor, Trace backed her up against her door with a penetrating kiss. He was hard as stone, and she was squirming, rubbing her softness against him.

  “How was your first date, Miss Montgomery?” he asked between kisses.

  “Is it over?”

  He looked into her wanting eyes and said, “Do you want it to be?”

  She trapped her lower lip between her teeth, blinking up at him through her long, dark lashes, and shook her head. “But this is supposed to be us starting over,” she said a little breathlessly. “If we’re really starting over, then we probably shouldn’t fool around on our first date.”

  Aw, hell. She was right, but the last thing he wanted to do was leave her tonight of all nights, when they’d been so close.

  “Okay, darlin’, but I’m going to make this up to you. To both of us. Now that you’ve finally
given me the green light to treat you like you’re truly mine, I’m not holding back.” Her cheeks pinked up, and he said, “Mustang, you never blush. What’s that heat rising in your cheeks?”

  “I like hearing you say I’m yours.”

  “Could you repeat that?” His hand snaked around her waist, drawing her against him good and tight.

  “I like being yours, and I like hearing you claim me.”

  “Darlin’, that’s all I’ve ever wanted to hear.”

  “Then tell me again so I can hear it in my dreams.”

  He gazed deeply into her eyes, falling even more in love with her as he said, “You’re mine, wild one. You’ve always been mine.”

  “And in my heart, you’ve always been mine.”

  “Damn, woman, you sure do make it hard for me to leave.”

  He reclaimed her lips, crushing her to him with renewed passion. Her mouth was sweet and warm, and the longer they kissed, the harder it was for him to even think about walking away. But he’d committed to their new beginning and he didn’t want to screw it up, so he forced himself to break their connection.

  “I love you, Mustang,” he said heatedly. “But if I don’t go now, I’m not going to leave.”

  “I know,” she said softly.

  After many more kisses, he unlocked her apartment door, returned her phone, and keys, and gave her ass a light smack. “Get in there so I know you’re safe.”

  She turned as she went inside and blew him a kiss. Then she wiggled her fingers in a cute wave and closed the door behind her.

  He stared at the door, itching to be on the other side of it. He took off his hat and raked a hand through his hair, thinking about how far they’d come. I like being yours, too, darlin’.

  He put his hat on and reluctantly headed for the stairs, feeling a hell of a lot like when he’d walked out the night before she’d left for Paris. He stood on the first step, gripping the railing. He’d played by her rules that night, instead of telling her how much he loved her and how he really felt. Now the woman he loved, who was carrying his child, was inside that apartment and he was walking away?