If ever there were a moment to agree with anything she says, it’s this one. But I don’t agree because I want her. No, I nod my head because it truly is a great idea. “I like it. But one tweak . . .” Her brows rise, and I can see a slight clenching of her teeth like she thinks I’m about to shit all over her seed of an idea and call it fertilizer. “What if we did it at the farm? S’mores, a bit of muddin’ in the Gator maybe. Campfire stories, stuff like that.”
“Mom! Yes! Say yes, please.” Cooper interrupts loudly and with more enthusiasm than his little body can hold. “Never mind, I’ll answer for her. Yes, Coach B! The boys would love that!”
He points at his own chest when he says ‘the boys’, apparently electing himself their spokesperson. I laugh but keep one eye on Allyson to gauge her reaction. She looks at Cooper and then back to me with a laugh of her own. “Guess we’re in.”
“YES!” Cooper goes off with excitement, hopping from the table and doing a weird dance that kinda reminds me of that chicken dance Johnathan had us do.
“Looks like you’re done with dinner, mister. Why don’t you go hop in the shower so you can hit the hay on time tonight? I think you’re still a bit worn out from The Science Project night.” The way she says it, I can hear the capitals, like it was An Incident. Cooper pulls a face, his lips wincing, and salutes before running down the hall.
A moment later, I hear the water start and my eyes lock on Allyson, my gaze heavy with intention. “Alone at last. I love that kid, but he’s fucking with my dating life.” I mean it to be funny and flirty, because I obviously love the little guy, but it bombs flat.
Allyson sighs. “Bruce. We’re a package deal. You need to know that.”
My brows knit in confusion. “I’m well aware, Allyson. I like the kid. He’s pretty fucking cool. But that doesn’t mean that I can’t enjoy a moment alone with you and want to take advantage.”
She tilts her head like she’s considering that. “That’s true, I guess. I just haven’t done this—any of this—since I had him, so I don’t know the proper thing to do.”
“Fuck proper. Do what you want. He’s your number-one, so you’re not going to do anything to fuck that up. But you deserve happiness too.” She looks unconvinced. “Hell, Cooper would want that for you too. He doesn’t need a martyr who doesn’t live and uses him as a buffer against the world. He wants a mom who shows him how a beautiful, strong, smart woman goes after every single thing she wants and creates the life she deserves.”
I mean it to sound persuasive, but something in my words hurts her. I replay them to figure out what it was, but I’m not exactly sure.
“But only if that thing I want is you, right?” There’s venom in her tone, accusing me of something, but I don’t know what it is, though I’ve obviously misstepped.
Damn, I suck at this. I’m more than a little lost and wishing I had a GPS for these uncharted waters because something really important is happening here. But she’s the only one who knows what it is. She goes back to fidgeting and I can feel her pulling away from me.
I push out from the table and come around to kneel at her feet. It puts my face even with hers, and I take her hands in mine, holding them on her thighs. I duck down, getting my face in hers where she’s looking down, not letting her away from me, from this.
I’m going into dangerous territory, approaching a wounded animal with nothing but the good intentions I hope she can read. Because I might not know what Allyson’s deal is, but any fool can tell that beneath her hard shell, her soft heart has been hurt. Badly.
“You’re different from before. I get that. This woman you are now? I want to know her, fall in love with her and that kid down the hall too. But only if that’s what you want.” I pause, trying to make the next words come as I cup her jaw in my big hands.
“I’m not here to make it harder for you, Al. If you don’t want me, if you’d rather I just coach the kids and disappear when the season’s over, I will. It’ll kill me, and Bobby will throw some big ‘told ya so’ shit my way, but all I want is for you to be happy. Fuck yeah, I want it to be with me, but if not, just . . .” I lick my lips, hating the catch in my throat. “Just be happy, Al.”
I don’t know where these words are coming from. I’m not a pretty poetry sort, but it’s the damn truth. I’ve gone from wanting her, to wanting to possess her, to wanting to watch her shuck the shackles holding her back. I want her to fly because fuck, is she stunning when she soars, and hopefully, she’ll come back to me after feeling the wind through her wings.
She blinks several times and I think she might be about to cry. But her voice is steady as she speaks. “It’s funny you say I’m different from before. These last few weeks, especially these last few days, I’ve felt more like my old self than I have in years. And I like it.” The very corners of her mouth tilt up in the smallest smile, and she whispers confidentially, “I don’t know how to do this, Bruce. I don’t date, haven’t wanted to, not since . . .”
It’s on the tip of her tongue to say his name, but I don’t want him and whatever shit he did to her to intrude on this moment. I might not know what happened, but he did this to her. He turned the fiery, mouthy girl who shone so brightly and lived life wide open into this fearful, rigid woman who dully lives well within the confines of safety. It’s not that she’s an adult now. It’s that her true self is buried under years of grime from him.
And yet, she’s so close to letting her inner wild-child free to choose me, the rough, gruff cowboy she once knew who doesn’t deserve a sweet thing like her, the man who’ll do anything for her. Her eyes dip to my mouth, and I take the initiative, kissing her softly. But though it’s sweet, there’s deep meaning to our every caress.
I pull back, meeting her eyes directly and swimming in the blue I see there. “Allyson, we can go as slow as you need or as fast as you want. Just try this . . . for you. I think you need this, need me, and that’s not arrogance talking. It’s okay if you use me up and throw me away when you’re done. If it’s what you need to get right with yourself, I’ll do it.”
I know what I’m offering is pure and utter stupidity on my part. She’s not ready, might not ever be ready for what I want with her, but I’ll take what I can get for as long as I can get it and pray that along the way, she will fall in love with me.
I can hear Bobby calling me a dumb shit already, but I don’t care. A moment of happiness with her is better than a lifetime of nothingness without her. I know that she’s why I never found someone, not in all the years after high school. Somewhere, deep inside, I knew I gave my heart away to this girl, and though she left me, she left with my heart in her hands. It’s always been hers, whether she wanted it or not.
Her face is written in pain, past and present, and fear for more in the future. “I don’t want to hurt you or get hurt, not again. I just don’t know what to do.”
A single tear tracks down her cheek, and I catch it with my thumb, wiping it away. I wish I could wipe whatever’s hurt her away as easily.
“Go on a date with me Saturday.” It’s not a question. It’s a solution to her confusion. “Just to prove to yourself that you can.”
“Bruce, I don’t want to hurt you,” she argues again weakly.
I thump my chest with my palm. “Let me worry about that. You just enjoy figuring out Allyson Meyers again. From what I recall, she’s a hell of a woman, a spitfire rebel who danced on the roof of my truck, lived without fear, and was willing to try just about anything once. Maybe twice just to be sure,” I say with a shit-eating grin, memories racing through my mind in flashes of our past.
She nibbles her lip uncertainly, but after what feels like a lifetime but truthfully is only a few seconds, she smiles. “Okay. A date.”
She’s probably gonna freak about this later, but I’m absolutely going to hold her to her word. In the meantime, I kiss her lips once more, hard and rough to build up her need. She might not know her heart, but I know her body. I want her to think of this later wh
en she panics and when she touches herself.
The water turns off down the hall, calling our moment of alone time to a halt.
“Tell Cooper good night for me. I’ll see you on Saturday for practice, and then I’ll pick you up at seven for our date.” I scan her face, looking for any sign of an impending freakout I need to address before I leave, but I find none. She looks . . . hopeful?
One last quick peck and I’m out the door.
I think I did the right thing. I hope I did. I’m going to help her find herself if it’s the last thing I do, even if my heart breaks again in the process. But maybe I can help put hers back together instead?
Chapter 20
Allyson
“I can’t do this.” My reflection looks back at me with fear-filled eyes as I shake my head.
From the bed behind me, Michelle’s bored voice repeats the same thing she’s been telling me for the last twenty minutes. “Yes, you can. Yes, you are.”
“I shouldn’t do this.” Maybe a different argument will get her to see reason?
“Yes, you should.”
No dice, apparently. I plop down on the bed beside her, blowing a loose curl of hair out of my eyes. “Michelle, I’m serious. This is such a bad idea. I’m going to hurt Bruce, or I’m going to get my heart broken, or we’re both going to end up mad again.”
Michelle flops back on the bed and closes her eyes. “Tell me again.”
I’ve already told her all about my conversation with Bruce, and I mindlessly repeat it again, focusing mostly on what he said. I don’t know how he ever thought himself only a ‘dumb jock’ because he’s one of the most perceptive people I’ve ever known.
I’ve been thinking about everything he said, turning it over in my mind time and time again, evaluating and analyzing from every angle.
I’ve worked hard to let the past go, but I won’t argue that it’s shaped my thoughts, reactions, hopes. And Bruce’s learning all that, the down and dirty of my last ten years, is inevitable with the way he notices every single thing about me. I don’t want to be lessened in his eyes when he finds out.
That’s my real fear, I guess.
What if I don’t date anymore, not because of Cooper like I’ve been telling myself but because I’m broken, unsalvageable? I’m a walking, talking FUBAR—Fucked Up Beyond All Repair despite all the work I’ve put into being better. And I am better, so much better that I want to grab up the me of years ago and shake the ever lovin’ shit outta her.
But the scars and the shame run deep. Even so, I don’t want to be FUBARed anymore. And Bruce makes me hope that maybe I won’t always be.
“Whatever roller coaster you just went on, that’s the real shit you need to dig out and deal with.” Michelle’s voice breaks into my train of thought, and I peek over to find her watching me closely through narrowed eyes. “With yourself, with him, or hell, with me, if you want.”
I shrug, not sure whether I want to share all that with her. She knows a little about my marriage but respectfully tiptoed around my boundaries when I clammed up about the details and has never toed the line again. She’s a great friend.
Unfortunately, she tells me the truth even when I don’t want to hear it.
“Let’s recap. He wants to fuck you and he was the best dick of your life.” It’s not a question, so I don’t answer, but I tilt my head, looking at her with exasperation because she always gets stuck on the sex part.
“So, that’s a yes. He wants to date you. He wants to get to know you. He wants to fall in love with you. He wants to make you fall in love with him. And barring all that, he’s willing to just fuck you senseless because you need some good dick. I’m not seeing any downside here, girl. Get out of your own way and live a little.” The last part is an order if ever I’ve heard one.
“Yes, ma’am, Boss Bitch!” I bark it out with a salute, ending with a middle finger that’s not one hundred percent a joke, but maybe ninety-five-ish, so that’s not too bad.
Michelle laughs and pushes my finger down, her tone turning serious. “Allyson, give him a shot. Give yourself a shot. Be a little reckless, do date-y things and get to know each other again. See what comes of it. Just make sure it’s you. At least three times.” She holds three fingers up, wiggling them emphatically.
I laugh. “You have such a one-track mind.” Standing up, I spin. “How do I look?”
Bruce didn’t say what we’re doing or where we’re going, so I’m trying to cover all the bases. My floaty sundress seems perfect. It hits below my knees, but the deep crisscross V neckline is flattering to my breasts, and the small blue flowers are the same color as my eyes. It feels fresh and light, making me feel the same.
Michelle traces a circle in the air, and I spin, the dress swirling out around me a bit. When I face her again, she’s smiling. Actually, it’s more of a devious grin. “He’s not going to know what hit him, Allyson.”
“Who are you hitting, Mom?” Cooper’s voice squeaks out from the door. “Ooh, you look pretty. Where are we going?”
Shit.
I was hoping to avoid this until a conversation became necessary, like if this thing with Bruce actually goes somewhere other than just sex. But I won’t lie to Cooper.
I sit on the bed, patting it so Cooper will come over. Once he’s settled, his blue eyes looking at me, I take a breath for strength. “Honey, you know I love you so much, but sometimes, adults like to hang out with other adults. That’s what I’m doing tonight, having dinner with Bruce.”
The words should be casual, but they’re definitely not, and Cooper’s such a smart kid, he knows it. “Mom, are you talking about a date?”
I mess with his hair, combing my fingers through the tangles. “Yes. I’m going on a date with Bruce.”
“Are you gonna have sex with him?”
I choke on my own spit. “What? Where did you hear that?”
His eyes dart to Michelle and he shrugs. “Liam says that’s what his parents do when his dad comes home and they send him over here for the night. Go on a date and have sex.”
I glare at Michelle, but even on her olive skin, I can tell that she’s blushing big time so I let her off the hook. To Cooper, I say, “That’s between Bruce and me, and Michelle and Michael. We’ll have a bigger discussion about sex later, but for now, I just want to make sure you’re okay with my going out to dinner with Bruce.”
My tongue feels too big in my mouth. I’m very open and honest with Cooper, but I’m not prepared to have the birds and the bees talk right this second, moments before I leave on my first date in years.
Thankfully, his smile is mega-watt bright and his words ridiculously casual for how important this is. “Yeah, Coach B is cool.”
I feel like I just ran an obstacle course over Legos blindfolded, barefoot, and with one hand tied behind my back.
Michelle hops up. “On that note, let’s get you boys loaded up. We’ve got pizzas to make, popcorn to pop, and movies to watch.” As she ushers Cooper out of my bedroom, she mouths back, “Oh, my God!” Her eyes are filled with horror, and I expect she’s going to have an awkward conversation with Liam too.
* * *
“Holy fuck, Al.” It’s not a flowery compliment, but it swirls through my veins like warm honey as Bruce’s eyes appraise me from my curled hair, over my sundress, to my red-painted toes in high wedge-heeled sandals.
“Thank you,” I say, giving a little curtsy.
“These are for you.” He holds out a bundle of flowers tied with twine. They’re not roses from a florist but a riot of colorful wildflowers. They’re perfect.
“Thank you,” I say again. Do I sound like a broken record? Am I already fucking this up?
But I force that voice to shut up, focusing on getting a vase down and filling it with water for the beautiful flowers. Once I set it on the kitchen table, Bruce clears his throat. “You ready?”
I glance up, realizing that he’s nervous too. Somehow, that revelation puts me at ease, or at least in damn good
company with my own nerves.
“You look nice too,” I say, cringing a bit at the weak compliment compared to his when he saw me. But he preens anyway, letting me look my fill.
As if I’d ever reach that point.
He’s got on brown boots without a speck of dirt of them, dark wash jeans slung low on his hips, and a button-up shirt tucked in behind his belt. His hair’s grown out a bit over the last few weeks, dark hair that wants to curl at his neck even without his usual hat, and his beard’s trimmed neatly. He looks like a fancy cowboy tonight. My fancy cowboy.
Once my eyes trace down and back up slowly, he offers an elbow to me, which I take delicately. Bruce leads me to the door, waiting while I lock up, but I can feel his eyes on me the whole time even as he helps me into his truck. I can tell it’s had a fresh wash too.
I appreciate that he pulled out all the stops. It makes this feel more real. Thirty minutes ago, I would’ve said the exact opposite, thinking that casual bordering on lazy would be preferable. But that’s because then I could’ve written the whole thing off as nothing more than a convenient re-visit to the past. But Bruce is putting in effort here. And that means something, especially to me.
As he pulls through town, Bruce gives me a sideways glance. “So, I have two options for you.”
My brows rise as I look at him. It’s dark, but I can see the tension working in his jaw. “Options?”
He nods. “I planned it out either way. I’m not putting that on you. I want you to know that.” I hum in acknowledgement and he continues. “Option one, we go to the resort. They’ve got a nice restaurant where we can eat dinner, and the bar pours a decent drink and has a dance floor. It’s no Hank’s, but it’s all right for something a bit more traditional. Option two, we have a picnic and stargaze and talk. More like old times, I guess.”
“You packed a picnic?” I ask doubtfully.
“Yep, sandwiches, but they’re pretty good ones. Made them myself. Plus, Shayanne’s potato salad—it’s Mom’s recipe—strawberries with chocolate dip, and wine. But no pressure. It’ll all go back in the fridge at home if you’d rather go to a sit-down dinner.” He truly sounds okay with either option.
Rough Love Page 20