Austin had my heart, hands down. He was perfect in every way. This man—and he was a man—was the most beautiful thing I’d ever laid eyes on. From his stone-colored irises to his inky hair and all the way down to his bare feet, not a single flaw existed. This was a bad idea. A very bad idea.
Garrett stepped in front of me, and I expected he would go inside. He did not. He grabbed Eason’s neck—or who I assumed to be Eason, since we hadn’t been introduced—and laid a rather passionate kiss on his supple, pink lips. My jaw still hung slack when they broke apart.
Eason’s mouth turned up into a smile too perfect not to have been painted on. “I missed you, too.”
Garrett leaned in for one more peck, and then he popped me on the behind as he walked backward away from the door. “You two get to know each other,” he said to me. Then he winked at Eason. “I’ll call you about dinner.”
Eason nodded. “I’m Eason McNabb. You must be Miranda.”
Shock and awe. Those were the only words that came to mind, and I looked like an idiot.
“Garrett can be a little overwhelming. I’m definitely the more conservative one in the relationship.” The affection in his tone slowed my erratic heartbeat. “Come on in.”
16
Austin
I’d expected her to call. After the things Miranda had admitted, I thought she’d use my number when she got up. The minutes and hours barely moved on the clock. Exhausted wasn’t a good way to spend a day on a ranch. The work was physical, the sun was brutal, and I needed it to end. Hearing from Miranda would have broken up the monotony, and I’d hoped the two of us could sit down to talk.
The few hours of rest I’d had last night were spent mulling over every word she’d said. The things she had confessed brought on more questions than answers. I doubted I wanted the answers, but in the end, I’d need them. Since she hadn’t called, it was clear, I would have to force the conversation. She needed to get her rental car from The Hut which gave me an excuse to be alone with her without making an issue out of it.
But when I got back to the barn, the only vehicles there were mine and Brock’s. I’d successfully avoided him all day, and if I played my cards right, I’d get out unnoticed. I didn’t have any information to give him about last night, since I didn’t have a clue what was going on myself.
I knocked on the front door of the farmhouse and turned to see if anyone was around. No one answered after I had knocked twice, so I let myself in. Miranda had consumed a lot of alcohol last night, so it was within the realm of possibility that she hadn’t gotten out of bed—not even to answer the door.
“Hello?” I called out. Scaring the crap out of her or Jack wouldn’t benefit anyone. “Hello?” I peeked into the kitchen. The lights were all off, and the house was quiet aside from my boots on the hardwoods. “Jack?” The stair creaked under the weight of my foot. “Miranda?” The hall on the second floor remained dim, the bedroom windows providing light that escaped through all the open doors.
The house was empty. I stood in the doorway with my fingers wrapped around the frame. The room appeared the way it had for years. Bereft—as if the space had mourned her loss like the rest of us. She’d taken all her belongings when she left Mason Belle. Not a single picture or trophy remained, just the furniture, curtains, and bedding. If I hadn’t known she’d picked them out herself, they would be as anonymous as the room itself.
The bed was made. The room was clean. My heart pounded, and my breathing became shallow. Both were indications Miranda wasn’t here. I raced in and threw open the closet door. Empty.
She’d left.
I’d been around all day. I had intentionally stayed close to the house in case she called. If I saw her, I had planned to offer to take her to get her car, even if it meant I had to work later into the afternoon. Yet somehow, she’d slipped by. Someone had to have seen her leave with a suitcase, and no one bothered to tell me.
I ran down the hall, then the steps, and out the front door. “Did you see her leave?” I half growled and half yelled at my best friend as I stormed toward my dually.
Brock leaned against his truck, and I could tell by the look on his face, he had something to say. “She left with Sarah.” He crossed his arms, but his relaxed stance didn’t change.
“It didn’t dawn on you to tell me? Did you miss the suitcase in her hand?” I needed to reel this in.
“I saw them pull off. I didn’t see her actually leave the house. What’s the big deal?” He’d gone from casual to irritated in a couple of sentences. “You’ve wanted her gone since she got here.” He pushed off the truck and stalked in my direction. “Your wish was granted.”
My fingers were wrapped around the door handle that I was on the verge of yanking open when he grabbed my shoulder and spun me toward him.
“You’ve treated her like manure since she strolled into town. Did you expect any different?” Brock barked.
I took a step back to put some space between us. His current stance posed a physical threat that didn’t sit well with me. “I didn’t expect her to leave.” Not after last night…although, I didn’t tell him that part.
“What did you expect? You had every opportunity to convince her to stay. Instead of making her feel welcome, you fought with her and pushed her out of town.”
“Where’s this coming from? Why am I the bad guy?”
He huffed out a laugh and shook his head. “You’re not. Everything you did was justifiable. I understand why you’ve been angry since she left. I get that she destroyed you. I was here for all that, remember? I’ve watched you suffer every day for years.”
“Then you get it.”
“Oh, I get that part. What I don’t get is how you thought things would be any different. Most people don’t bid a fond farewell to people who hate them.”
But I didn’t hate her. I hated what she did. I hated that she left me. I never hated her. “How long ago did they leave?” I didn’t have time to debate any of this with Brock.
“A few hours ago, I guess.”
I reached for the door handle, and the grip of his fingers digging into my shoulder again stopped me.
“Don’t do something stupid, Austin.”
I jerked away from him at the same time I opened the truck. I cranked the ignition, rolled down the window, and then glanced over my shoulder to make sure Brock wasn’t in the way when I backed out. Every rock I passed over sent a jarring memory before my eyes. Randi turning up the radio. Randi singing any song that came through the speakers. Randi’s Southern drawl. Her hair whipping around her face with the wind that came into the cab. The way her throat danced when she tossed her head back in laughter. Her lips. Her nose. The way her eyelids fluttered just before I made her come. It was all as real as if it were happening.
I pulled my cell out of my pocket and searched for my sister-in-law’s name in my contacts. When I glanced up, I’d swerved into the other lane and jerked the wheel to get out of the path of an oncoming SUV. I hadn’t heard his horn until I passed, and he shook his fist at me.
The phone connected on the second ring, but I didn’t wait for her to acknowledge me. “Where is she?”
Sarah sighed on the other end. “Hey, Austin.”
I didn’t have time for formalities. “Did she leave?” My questions sounded as desperate as I felt.
“Yes.” That was it. One word.
I slammed my fist onto the steering wheel. “Why’d you let her go?”
“Austin, you’re scaring the kids. They’re in the car, and they can hear everything you’re saying. Can you calm down, please?”
If she’d answer my question, I would. I took a deep breath and started again in a less aggressive tone. “Why didn’t you convince her to stay, Sarah?” If I had a third hand, I’d pull my hair.
“For what?”
It seemed everyone I knew was either stupid or didn’t care. “Because this is her home.”
Sarah ignored me and scolded the kids in the back seat. “She doesn
’t think so.”
I couldn’t understand Sarah’s indifferent attitude. The topic of Miranda might not have been discussed with me directly, but that didn’t mean I was oblivious to what went on. Sarah was married to my brother. Brothers talk, even when it’s in circles and indirect. Our parents were friends. I worked for her dad. So just because Miranda’s name hadn’t been said to my face didn’t mean I’d missed the implications. I’d simply chosen to ignore them instead of engaging.
“And you just let her go?”
“We talked first.”
Jesus, this was like pulling teeth. I waited, thinking the silence would indicate that I wanted more information. When she didn’t fill it, I did. “And?”
“Tell your daddy I’ll be back in a little while. I’m going to run to Piggly Wiggly.” The kids each told her goodbye in the background, and when the door shut, Sarah returned to our conversation. “And we’re good.”
She had to be kidding. “You’re good?”
“Yeah.”
“Then why did she leave?”
“Because her friends and her job are in New York.”
This took me back to my childhood. Anytime Charlie and I had a secret and our parents questioned us, we’d only answer the question they asked. Neither of us would elaborate or provide any details. I’d thought it was funny then, but now it infuriated me to have it returned.
I’d always believed when the time came, when I got to face Miranda, that there’d be a line in the sand. She’d be on one side, and my friends, my family, and I would all be on the other. Yet, here I was, and one by one, each of those people had switched teams. “When does her flight leave?”
“Why are you doing this?” she asked.
Doing this. That was rather vague. I could give her the same short responses she’d given me, but it wouldn’t help in the long run. I pulled into my driveway and sat there with the truck idling. “Did she tell you about last night?”
“No. She said she told you how she felt, that she and Eason aren’t a couple, and that you weren’t interested.”
With the truck in park, I was able to remove my ballcap and pull my hair in frustration. “That’s not true,” I said through gritted teeth.
“She didn’t tell you how she felt?”
I shook my head, not that Sarah could see me. “Yes, she did. I didn’t tell her I wasn’t interested. She was drunk. I took her home. She said a lot of things, and I didn’t want to take advantage of her.”
“And that led you to tell her you weren’t interested?” Her confusion told me Miranda hadn’t given her specifics, just a rough overview, if that much.
“No. I never said I wasn’t interested. I took her home, tucked her in bed, and kissed her forehead. I left my number so she’d call me today. That wasn’t a conversation to have when she’d been mainlining whiskey. I tried to do the right thing.”
“I don’t know what time her flight left. She wasn’t in a hurry to get to the airport, but that was a couple of hours ago. Why don’t you call her?”
That would be a great idea, except for one thing. “I don’t have her number.”
Sarah giggled, and I pulled my hair again. “Luckily for you, I do.”
I jumped out of the truck and ran inside to find something to write it down with. It didn’t dawn on me until after I’d hung up that I could have put Sarah on speaker and added it to my phone while she rattled it off. Not that it mattered. I had it, and I used it.
And it went straight to voicemail. Twice.
I debated driving to Laredo, hoping I reached her before her flight left. For all I knew, she was already thirty thousand feet in the air. Not to mention, I couldn’t get past the security gate without a ticket.
Miranda had managed another escape.
But this time, I refused to let her run.
* * *
I’d made it this far without nerves taking over or second-guessing my trip, not even on the flight from hell where I swore the masks were going to fall out of the overhead compartment at any given moment. Oddly, I’d been most apprehensive over leaving my truck in an uncovered parking lot at the airport. Now, standing on Miranda and Eason’s doorstep, I hesitated to lift my fist to knock.
For two days, I’d tried to reach Miranda, and for two days her phone went to voicemail, even after I assumed she’d gone back to work. That same lost feeling I’d experienced when she left the first time had returned, except this time, I wasn’t willing to accept her decision as my fate. I didn’t ask Sarah where she lived. I didn’t talk to Jack about where I was going when I told him I needed a couple of days off. Not even my parents were aware I’d left the state. I made the choice to chase her, and no outside influence would alter my plans, so there was no point in discussing it.
It proved a tad difficult when I tried to find Miranda Adams in New York City…when I looked for her. Eason McNabb, on the other hand, had been quite easy to locate. He was a partner at what appeared to be a huge law practice in Manhattan, and the website for his firm listed all the employees, along with their cell phone numbers and email addresses. Miranda’s number proved a dud in a reverse search on Google. Eason McNabb’s was a gold mine. For the low price of nineteen ninety-five, I had access to his home address, date of birth, and family tree. Most importantly, I had found Miranda.
The element of surprise should work in my favor. If Miranda didn’t know I was coming, then she couldn’t hide or avoid me. I hadn’t thought about the role Eason might play in my arrival. I wasn’t dumb enough to believe that man couldn’t throw his weight into a hearty punch that would pack a nasty blow. So, with my knuckles hovered in front of the wood, it occurred to me that while this whole thing might prove to be romantic, it wasn’t terribly realistic. In the South, someone unexpectedly shows up at your door at night, you could anticipate being greeted by the barrel of a shotgun.
This didn’t appear to be that type of neighborhood. In fact, if I didn’t knock soon, I ran the risk of having the cops called on me for loitering. The more I looked around, the more suspicious I felt. So, I did what I came here to do.
I knocked.
And waited.
Maybe coming without an invitation wasn’t the brightest move I’d ever made. I rapped one more time and finally heard a voice call out from the other side. The door swung open, and a groggy, sleepy-eyed Miranda leaned against the jamb. I tried to take in all of her at one time from her messy hair to her matching tank top and sleep shorts and down her toned legs to her bare feet, but she yawned and pulled my attention back to her face. I could stand here all day and bask in the sight of her, and that might be precisely what happened since she hadn’t invited me in.
She reached up and tucked her hair behind her ear and then rubbed her eyes with her fingers, all while I waited. “Austin?” Gone was the haze of exhaustion, and in its place came startled recognition. “What are you doing here?” Miranda leaned out the door and glanced down the sidewalk, as if she expected someone else.
I took off my baseball hat with one hand and raked the other through my hair. I didn’t claim to be poetic or even to have the right words at the appropriate times, and it had never been more obvious than it was at this second. I bent the bill back and forth in an attempt to expend some of the anxiety that coursed through my veins. It didn’t work, and I’d likely destroyed my favorite hat in the process. “I came to see you.” Obviously.
“From Texas?”
At this point, I wasn’t sure where else she thought I might have been. “Yeah.” I should write love songs as eloquent as I’d become in the last thirty seconds.
“Why?” That was never the reception a man wanted to receive from a woman when he showed up at her door, much less when he’d flown across the country to do so.
All the rehearsal on the plane had gone straight out the window the moment her door opened. “Because you left.”
She rolled her eyes. “If you came all this way to fight, you could have saved yourself a trip. I don’t have it in me t
o argue with you.” I didn’t miss her fingers curling into a ball at her side, or the way they seemed to clench and release.
“Can I come in?” It was a beautiful neighborhood, although seeing it from the front stoop wasn’t ideal, and this conversation wasn’t going to happen with her door half open.
Miranda sighed, contorted her lips into something akin to resignation, and she stepped back to wave me in. I almost asked her if I should take off my shoes when I saw the massive rug in the foyer, but when she started moving, I was afraid I’d get lost if I didn’t follow. Their house was nothing like anything that existed in Mason Belle. From the colors on the walls to the drapes and rugs, every inch screamed wealth. Surprisingly, it was also warm and comfortable.
Miranda led me into the living room where she tossed her body onto the couch and pulled a worn blanket over her lap. The television and visible sound equipment were every man’s dream, but since I wasn’t here to ogle Eason’s electronics, I took a seat on the sofa next to her.
“Did I wake you?” I already knew the answer. I was just trying to ease into a conversation.
She stared at me blankly then blinked and said, “Yes.” She had no intention of making this easy.
“Is Eason here?”
“No.”
If I continued to ask yes or no questions, I would continue to get one-word responses. I wanted to dive in and tell her why I’d shown up unannounced. But my eyes flicked to hers, and her lids had narrowed a hint, and her jaw tensed as she ground her teeth. The fight I’d expected to experience back home and hadn’t seen, now marked her features. The tides had turned. Her confidence shone through in full force since she was comfortable here, at ease.
Miranda had decided to take control in the midst of my assessing the situation. “Why are you here?”
“Because we need to talk.”
She folded her arms and kept her expression clear. I couldn’t read anything in her eyes, her posture, or her words. “I said what I had to say.”
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