Or, rather, he’d returned to his roots. Grand was where he belonged. Going back to Seattle would chip away at his soul. He’d never be happy there, something he’d already figured out.
But being away from his child would destroy him. He’d go back to his old life when the baby was born, and even if it broke her heart, Mara wouldn’t stand in his way.
“You think I have anger issues?” He sounded more intrigued, possibly amused, than offended by any assumptions she’d made.
“I think we both might have them,” she replied. “Let’s go.”
The inside of the Rage Room looked more like the entrance to a maximum security facility than a night out for working mothers with high levels of social frustration. A round reception desk faced the main door. The floor was bare, polished concrete. The stark white walls of the lobby were filled with photos of people in padded white coveralls, carrying ball bats and sledgehammers, surrounded by post-apocalyptic levels of mass destruction.
If the dance mother was surprised to see Luke and Mara together, she didn’t let on. She walked them through the rules, explaining how everything worked, and had them sign disclosures. They donned protective gear—coveralls, helmets, goggles, and chest padding.
The steel-walled, prison-like room they were shown to sported a blinding, bare, overhead light and an odd assortment of options for smashing. Several kegs stood on end on the floor. Stacks of dishes and glasses perched on shelves. An old desk housed an ancient computer monitor—the kind that took up half the desk—a tower, and a printer. A sledgehammer and two baseball bats occupied a corner.
“I feel stupid,” Luke said, once their host had departed.
“Why—because rage rooms are mostly for women?” Mara asked, her hands on her hips.
His green eyes laughed at her from behind the goggles. Paired with the white coveralls and padding, he looked as if he should be sanitizing crime scenes. “No. Because I didn’t think of this, myself.” He picked up the sledgehammer and hefted it as if testing its weight. “That monitor’s mine.”
He swung the sledgehammer over his shoulder as if he were Thor, bringing it down with precision. The monitor casing cracked but stayed together. The screen remained whole.
“You hit like a girl,” Mara said, poking him with the tip of her bat. “Except not as hard.”
“Ha, ha.” Luke hefted the sledgehammer onto his shoulder. “That was a test run. I’m warming up. Why don’t you take a shot, too? But not at the monitor,” he added. “Find your own issues to work on.”
Mara eyed an ugly ceramic cookie jar in the shape of a cow. She had no issues with either cookies or cows, but if she closed her eyes and used her imagination, it wouldn’t matter. She placed the jar on one of the kegs, scrunched her eyelids tightly together, swung the bat, and bashed it as hard as she could. Shards of ceramic pelted the wall.
She opened her eyes and surveyed the damage. It was difficult to put any real strength into her swing because she couldn’t rely on her knee, but she’d made a respectable effort.
“How did that feel?” Luke inquired.
“Satisfying,” Mara admitted. She picked up a plate and hurled it left-handed against the dented steel of the wall, using it as a discus. Splintered pieces showered the floor. “That, even more so.”
He replaced the cookie jar with a stoneware crock pot. Then, his fingers closed around hers on the bat. “Here. Let me help you with this one.”
“You’re missing the point. We’re supposed to be working out our personal anger issues,” she said, but she let him put his arms around her so he could help her swing anyway. The crock pot tumbled off the keg and broke into three chunks on the floor.
“You need this more than I do. I can go out in a field and swing a post maul any day of the week,” he said, his cheek pressed to hers. “Why do you think ranchers are so mellow?”
She spoke without thinking. “It’s going to be harder to find a field in Seattle.”
His arms dropped away. She swiveled toward him, wary about how the snide reminder had been received. She hadn’t brought him here to create stress. This was supposed to relieve it.
“Excuse me,” he said.
He snatched a glass tumbler from a shelf and hurled it against the wall. Bright sparkles flew.
At least she now knew for certain how he felt about Seattle.
“Don’t forget the computer,” she said.
He seized the sledgehammer. Two minutes later, pieces of the former monitor littered the floor and the tower had been demolished.
He adjusted his goggles, admiring his handiwork. “Not bad for a girl.” Then, he looked at her and delivered a sharp barb of his own. “When you hear that song on the radio—the one where you danced in the video with Little Zee—how does it make you feel?”
No one had ever put it right in front of her like that before. She never spoke about it. She’d spent a year trying not to think about it, either. A hot red sheen blurred her vision. A vein throbbed in her temple, making her head ache. She propped a coffee maker on a keg and gripped the bat in both hands.
“Stand back,” she said.
After that, they both got down to business.
She’d booked the room for forty minutes. When their time was up, they were panting and sweaty. Her knee ached, but in a smug, self-satisfied way.
Luke flung the bat he’d been using aside. It hit the steel wall with a clang. He took off his goggles and tossed them on a shelf. “Can we talk, now?”
Mara surveyed the room. The carnage they’d caused was inspiring. “What’s the point? You’re going back to Seattle.”
His silence confirmed it. Her satisfaction evaporated, along with the anger she’d expended, leaving her tired and aching and empty.
Then, he regained his voice. “I’m not moving back to Seattle for good until the baby is due. Marry me,” he said, his gaze green and steady on her. “If you’re still worried about how Denise will take it, then we can get married right away and she’ll have until February to get used to it.”
“My God,” Mara said. She slid her goggles down, letting them hang from her neck. “I thought you were different.”
His brilliant brain made the connection. He blinked. His jaw slackened. “Did you just compare me to Little Zee?”
It was lucky for him she’d already worked off a good deal of her rage. “No. You did that yourself. Whether or not you still love Denise, you should have more respect for her than this.”
“I don’t love Denise. I love you.”
She believed him. He loved her. Telling him she loved him too, however, wasn’t going to make things any easier for him. Or her, either. She’d come into his life at a bad time. She’d offered him an escape from reality, which was what he’d wanted and needed. Maybe she had, too.
Unfortunately, sometimes reality really did bite—and when it bit, it bit hard.
“I’ve been in Denise’s position. I’ve had someone who claimed he cared about me suddenly decide he didn’t, and abandon me when I needed him, all because I’d become a problem.”
“She was the one who walked out on me,” Luke said. He was furious. His face had gone hard. “This changes nothing. I’m going back for the baby, not her.”
“Once the baby is born, you and Denise will be spending a lot of time together. I’d only be in the way. I’m not dropping everything I’ve worked for here in Grand”—where she’d finally begun to feel as if she belonged—“so I can head to Seattle, only to discover I’ve become another one of your problems.” The thought of starting over again, with so much uncertainty involved, was too daunting. She only had so much strength.
He swallowed. His Adam’s apple bobbed up and down. She’d gone too far. She could almost see the wheels in his head spinning. Then, the fierceness went out of his face.
“Is that what you’re so afraid of? That I’ll forget how important you are to me? I love you, Mara. I’ve loved you from the moment you called me out for saying I was fixing your door as a
favor to Diana. You understand me, and you call me on bullshit, just like you’re doing right now.” He rubbed his forehead with the flat of his palm. “Asking you to marry me while everything is a mess was stupid of me, wasn’t it?”
Her heart was pounding with hope and relief. He’d finally begun to see reason. “The stupidest. How does it feel to be the dumb one for a change?”
“Please don’t give up on me,” he said, his voice raspy and gruff. “I’ve never loved anyone the way I love you.”
She wanted to tell him she loved him, too—she did, with all her heart—but she wasn’t ready to make that much of a commitment. Not when he had the potential to hurt her. If she didn’t say it out loud no one would ever know, and if he changed his mind after the baby was born, she’d at least be left with her pride.
“Go to Seattle. Be there for Denise and the baby. Then, once you see how your life is going to be after the baby is born, we can talk about the future. I’ll be right here, waiting for you,” she said.
“I can’t ask that of you.”
“You aren’t asking me. I’m telling you.”
Strong, warm, work-hardened arms enfolded her. Chest protectors formed an awkward barrier between them. He rested his cheek on the top of her head. “I don’t deserve you.”
“No,” Mara said, keeping things as light as she could, smiling even though she felt more like crying. “You really don’t.”
But really, he did.
“It’s only August. February is a long way off. What do we do until then?” he asked.
She hugged his waist hard, leaning against him. Something crunched under her shoe. The last weeks had been incredibly difficult for them both, and the next six months wouldn’t be easy, but she’d missed him and he needed her. Until then, she’d take what she could get.
“Let’s go back to my place and see what we can come up with,” she said.
The door to the room opened. The owner stuck her head in.
“Time’s up,” she said cheerfully. Then, “Oh. Excuse me.”
And the door hastily closed.
“Saturday morning coffee is going to be a lot more uncomfortable from now on,” Luke said. “It was bad enough to begin with.”
But he didn’t sound too bothered by it.
*
The late summer afternoon was sunny and hot.
It had been three weeks since the Rage Room. Luke had finally persuaded Mara to spend the day at the ranch with him so he could take her riding and show her around.
He also planned to properly introduce her to his family. Specifically, Jake.
He was going to marry her. They hadn’t discussed it again—he’d learned his lesson—but unless she could convince him that she no longer wanted him, it was going to happen. He’d told his brothers so. They’d both looked at him as if he’d lost his mind, but for slightly different reasons. Zack knew about the baby. Jake knew he’d recently asked another woman to marry him.
“You’re supposed to be the smart one,” Jake had said, and left it at that. He and Lacey had finally brought their relationship into the open, so he wasn’t as inclined to be his usual critical self where Luke was concerned. He hadn’t said a word when he found out about Finn taking dance lessons, either.
Zack, on the other hand…
“Dumbass.” He bounced the heel of his palm off Luke’s forehead. “I get that Mara is hot, but you don’t have to propose to a woman every time you get laid. Try thinking with your head for a change.”
“How’s Posey doing these days?” Luke inquired, and the conversation stagnated right there.
“We aren’t going far,” he said to Mara now. “We’ll take a ride along the river.”
He helped her into the saddle, and after that, she was fine. She sat a horse as if she’d been riding her whole life.
The Tongue River was well-known for sports fishing. There was a spot not far from the road where the McGregors had fished and swam when they were kids. Luke remembered Liz and her skimpy-bikini-clad girlfriends ducking and splashing in the water as if it were yesterday.
So many memories.
“You love it here, don’t you?” Mara asked, studying his face.
The warm golden tan she’d acquired over the summer made the clear, startling blue of her eyes that much more pronounced. Long, slender legs, encased in tight jeans and high boots, hugged the docile, ancient roan he’d chosen for her. Mac was learning to ride on the same horse.
“I do,” he said.
Not that it made any difference. Once February arrived, he’d have a child to support, and to do so, he’d need an income. The Wagging Tongue Ranch would have to carry on without him.
They rode for an hour before heading back to the house. The boys would be getting home from school any time now and Jake would come to the kitchen for coffee so he could sit with them for a few minutes before finishing chores. It was also time for Zack to start cooking supper, so for the next half hour, the family would all be together.
Luke unsaddled the horses before turning them loose in the paddock next to the barn with the others. Thunder, Mac’s colt, trotted over to check out the new human. Mara rubbed his nose.
“I wish I’d thought to bring treats,” she said.
“He’s too young for that.” Luke leaned on the rail so he could relax and enjoy watching her. “He has to learn manners first. Feeding him treats teaches him to beg. Worse, it can teach him to bite. Only Mac gets to feed him, and even then, only when one of us supervises.”
Mara crinkled her nose. “Ranchers are harsh.”
Thunder, realizing he wasn’t going to get more than a nose rub out of Mara, kicked up his heels and took off, bucking stiff-legged across the paddock. She laughed at his antics.
She liked it here. He’d hoped she would.
He heard the school bus clang to a stop at the end of the drive, then the groan of the doors as they popped open to spit the boys out.
He took Mara’s hand, his daydreams dispersing. “Let’s go get a coffee.”
“Hi, Miss Ramos!” Finn shouted, spying her as he ran up the driveway, his book bag hanging off one shoulder to give him a lopsided gait. Mac followed more slowly behind him.
Finn dropped his book bag on the ground and struck a dance pose, his arms extended. He pivoted on one foot in what Luke could only guess was supposed to be a pirouette.
“Your form is excellent,” Mara congratulated him.
Mac picked up Finn’s bag on the way by and passed it back to his brother without comment.
They crowded into the kitchen. Jake entered a few moments behind them. He’d stopped in the laundry room to wash his hands and remove his coveralls. Zack had the coffeepot on. He’d also made sandwiches out of his homemade focaccia bread and roasted vegetables slathered in sun-dried tomato mayonnaise. Luke had dropped a hint about the bread. A search for fennel seeds was what had brought him and Mara together and he wondered if she’d remember.
Jake was the only one who’d never met her. He was also the family member whose opinion mattered to Luke the most. Jake froze for a second when he came into the room, almost as if he couldn’t quite believe what he saw. Mara, all blue-eyed, Mayan goddess, who was listening to Finn chatter while she reacquainted herself with Lydia, had that effect on most men. His eyes tracked to Luke. His expression said, “Seriously? What is a woman like that doing with you?”
Luke didn’t know, either. He simply chose to be grateful. But she was holding back on him, as if a part of her had shut off. She didn’t trust him and he ached to prove he deserved it.
“It’s nice to finally meet you,” Jake said, shaking Mara’s hand. “We’ve heard so much about you.”
Funny, Jake.
That was his brother’s idea of a joke. Luke had said very little about her, and she would know that. She knew him too well.
Mara, however, caught on to Jake’s deadpan sense of humor. Her smile was all innocent sweetness. “I hope he said nice things. He’s been very complimentary o
f you.”
Score one for Mara. Now Jake was going to wonder exactly what she’d been told. It would drive him nuts.
Finn had finally wound down, letting them finish their coffee in peace, when a car door slammed in the yard. Zack, standing next to the counter, peered through the yellow curtains covering the window over the sink. The expression on his face shifted from curiosity, to unease, to alarm. He shot Luke a look filled with warning.
“Uh…” he said, as if that were a legit explanation.
Jake stood up to take a look, too.
“No idea who that is,” he said, his disappointment apparent. He must have been hoping for Lacey, who’d still be at work.
But Luke had begun to get a bad feeling. Zack was sending out signals more appropriate for a pending apocalypse than a nosy neighbor dropping by to see what the family was up to.
The apocalypse knocked on the front door.
“I’ll get it,” Zack said. He twitched his head in the direction of the back of the house while making faces at Luke.
And Luke finally figured it out—but it was too late. Mara had, too. Jake was clearly confused, not that it mattered. In a few minutes, he’d find out all about it.
“Hello, Zack. Is Luke home?” Denise said.
Chapter Fourteen
Denise halted at the door to the kitchen. She took in the room at a glance. Her gaze settled on Mara, who, to her credit, remained serene and unruffled.
“I’ve come at a bad time,” Denise said.
Mara stood. Her gaze on Denise was equally assessing. “Not at all. I was just leaving.”
Jake and Zack looked at Luke. Jake was fitting the pieces together. Zack looked as if he were reaching for popcorn, prepared to enjoy the show, because why the hell not?
Luke scrambled to his feet. He couldn’t say exactly what conclusions Mara had reached, but he did know he had about ten seconds to conduct damage control. “I’ll walk you to your car.”
The walk took forever.
Outside, by her car, Mara stopped. She reached in her jeans pocket and pulled out her keys.
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