Waiting on a Cowboy, page 7
Declan held his hands out wide. “Doesn’t everyone?”
“I guess. When the time is right.” It had never been right for him. At least, not for long. Sure, he’d had girlfriends for months at a time, but he never lasted much past a year.
Declan pushed again. “The time hasn’t been right for you. But things change. Do you want to make a commitment to her now?”
“I see how happy Drake is with Adria.”
Declan nodded. “It’s such a huge change from how he was before he met her.”
“Exactly. I can’t remember ever seeing him that happy. And settled. Like no matter what happens, he’s good, because he’s got her.”
“You’ve always had Liz. Good times and bad, she’s always been by your side.”
“Exactly. And I don’t want to mess that up. But it’s not the same as what Drake and Adria share.”
“They have sex.” Mischief and teasing filled Declan’s eyes.
Tate rolled his. “Yes. And there’s also a closeness that bonds them.” He didn’t know how else to explain it and knew he fell short, because he didn’t know how to put his finger on that intangible but so evident thing Drake and Adria shared.
“You don’t think you have that with Liz?”
“The question is should I risk our friendship to find out? I was ready to tell her yes yesterday, but her boyfriend showed up and threw a wrench in the whole damn thing. I think something happened between them when I left.” He should have stayed to be sure nothing happened to her. It nagged at him.
“Like what? A fight?”
“He definitely wasn’t happy when I left.” Understatement of the century.
“Do you think he hurt her?”
If he did, he’s dead. “I hope she’d tell me if he did.”
“You think she would, knowing you’d hunt the guy down and beat him into the ground?”
Tate had to concede the point. “She held something back last night. She never does that. She puts it all out there. Every conversation we have is real. It’s not like that with other women. I don’t like this sudden distance between us.”
“I keep telling you to get closer to her. There’s something there, Tate, whether you want to admit it or not.”
“What if she’s built us up in her mind so much, there’s no way I can live up to it?”
“What if reality is better than anything she or you could ever dream up?”
Tate’s belly tightened with . . . anticipation. And maybe hope. He’d never feared losing a woman in his life.
He’d never hoped things would work out with one this bad.
Declan read his mind. “If you go into it worried that you’ll mess it up instead of intending to make it work, you’ll doom yourself to failure. From all I’ve heard”—Declan feigned ignorance though he’d had his fair share of women in his life, though not lately—“relationships take work and require compromise. You’re friends already. You’ve got an easy rapport. I have no doubt any challenges that come up, you guys will work them out. If you want her.”
The more he thought about it, imagined them together, yes, the more he wanted it.
Now he couldn’t stop thinking about it.
Tate checked his watch. “She should be home soon.”
Declan waved him away. “Go see her. Figure this out before your mind spins out of control and you talk yourself out of what you’ve always wanted again.”
One side of Tate’s mouth drew back. “I’m not talking myself out of it.”
“You’re spending far too much time talking yourself into it rather than just doing it.”
Tate gave him a dirty look.
“Go. Pin her down,” Declan mocked.
Tate went to the truck door. Before he climbed in, he overheard Declan say under his breath, “I’ll hold down the fort alone.” Tate wasn’t the only one who wanted a partnership—and love—like Drake had found.
On the way into town, Tate thought about how things had been for him and Declan the last few years, running the ranch, working hard, and hardly living. Tate found a few hours here and there to get out and have some fun. Declan mostly stayed back, finishing paperwork, placing orders, paying the bills. He’d shouldered the burden without complaint, oftentimes pushing Tate to hang with his friends.
Tate went because he’d rather have fun than do more work after a ten- or twelve-hour day. But now he wondered how Declan did it. How much of a toll had all that work and no play worn on Declan?
The drive into town didn’t give him enough time to figure out what he was going to say to Liz. Maybe he should just take Declan’s advice, not say anything, and just kiss her already.
One thing for sure, she needed to dump Clint if she hadn’t already.
That guy was no good for her.
Tate wouldn’t stand by and let some asshole disrespect her.
He pulled into her complex and parked the truck in a visitor slot. Since her carport was on the other side of the building, he didn’t know if she was home yet and headed up to her condo to find out.
He took the stairs up, stared at her door for a second, and sucked in a deep breath, gathering himself to finally get this done. He wasn’t leaving until they settled things between them.
He knocked on the door and waited but didn’t hear her moving around inside.
The door behind him opened. “Oh, it’s you. Good. That other guy is a dick.”
He didn’t have to ask who she was talking about. “What happened?”
“She didn’t want to talk about it, but I overheard them fighting. Sounded like things got physical.”
A wave of rage made his blood boil.
“I pounded on her door, told them I’d call the cops if I didn’t see her. She looked rattled but okay. She asked him to leave, but he didn’t, so I made it clear I’d call the cops if he didn’t.”
“Jeez. Did he go?”
“He wasn’t happy about it, but yeah. I think she crashed after that. I didn’t hear anything more last night.”
She’d talked to him and not said one damn word about any of this. “Good. Okay.” He didn’t know what else to say or do. He needed to see her.
“She usually gets home about now. If you want to wait in my place, I might have a beer. It’s probably some crap IPA my ex liked.”
Tate laughed under his breath. “Thanks.” He hoped Liz got home soon. He wanted to know exactly what happened last night.
What he really wanted to do was hunt down Clint and kill the fuck for making one second of Liz’s life unhappy. If Clint hurt her, he’d wish he was never born.
That voice in his head yelled, And what does that tell you about how you feel about Liz?
Chapter Eight
Liz walked out of work and headed for the parking area, but stopped short when she passed the first row of cars in the lot and spotted Clint leaning against the hood of her car. He smiled like nothing happened last night. Like she hadn’t woken up with a gasp in the middle of the night and a nightmare image of him trying to strangle her.
Things hadn’t gone that far, but who’s to say he wouldn’t do something worse next time. She wasn’t about to give him a chance.
“I texted you last night and today. You didn’t respond. You didn’t answer my calls.”
Twenty-seven texts. Fourteen phone calls. One very sweet voice mail. Three that became increasingly angry and bitter. “I was working. Besides, I have nothing to say to you.”
“I’m sorry, Liz. I would never hurt you. Things got out of hand . . . I just wanted you to listen and understand that I care about you. I want us to go back to the way things were before Tate got in the way.”
“Tate wasn’t in your way.”
“No? You’re in love with him.”
She couldn’t deny it. “I do love Tate. He’s been my very best friend since we were children. He knows me better than anyone.”
“I want to have that with you.”
“I thought we might have a chance at that, but you are so obsessed with keeping me away from Tate you’ve ruined the last few times we were together.”
“I just don’t understand how you two can be friends.”
“We are, and that’s not going to change. But you’ve changed. Or you’re just not the man I thought you were.”
Clint stood and took a step away from her car.
She held up her hand to keep him from coming any closer. “Don’t.”
“Don’t what? Apologize? Touch you? Kiss you? You’re my girlfriend. Of course I want to make this right. Of course I want us to be everything, and more than we were before he showed up during our date.”
She shook her head. “No. I’m not your girlfriend. Not anymore.”
“Come on. Don’t say that. You don’t mean it.”
She hated that he told her what she meant. “You put your hands on me last night. You scared me. I don’t want to see you anymore.”
He put his hand out again to touch her, but she stepped out of his reach. “Babe, come on. I didn’t mean any harm. You wouldn’t listen.”
Anger flashed. “Are you saying it’s my fault you left bruises on me?”
“Let me take you to dinner. We’ll talk about it.”
“Now who isn’t listening?”
His eyes narrowed and darkened. “Don’t do this, Liz. You’ll regret it.”
“That sounds like a threat.” She regretted that she hadn’t listened to her intuition about those little things that niggled at her in the back of her mind before what happened last night. She wasn’t sticking around to see if even more of his real personality came out and she regretted that. Or worse.
“I’m done, Clint. No more dinners out. No more texts. No more phone calls. I don’t want to see or speak to you again.” She couldn’t make it clearer.
“Do you really think he’s changed his mind about you? He hasn’t. He just doesn’t want to share. Like I don’t want to share you with him.”
“What’s between Tate and me has nothing to do with you.”
“The hell it doesn’t. Because of him, you’re acting like this.” He waved his hand at her. Deep displeasure and annoyance filled his eyes and added lines around his frown. “Before, you and I had fun. We’d laugh and smile at each other and you’d kiss me like you meant it. We made love like we couldn’t get enough of each other.” He laid it on thick and painted a picture of a happy couple and a fulfilling relationship.
Yes, she’d been enamored by his charm and attention. She didn’t mind the make-out sessions. She could have done without the pouting and simmering anger when she denied him a sleepover. Eventually, she’d given in to her desires and slept with him. It had been a long time. She’d craved that closeness. And hoped it would make her feel closer to him. She thought it would strengthen their relationship. But he’d proven a selfish lover, leaving her unfulfilled and wanting more often than not. The other times, she’d had to make it happen for herself before he finished and promptly fell asleep.
Some guys just didn’t get it. Clint deluded himself into thinking he was the perfect boyfriend and lover. Well, she wanted someone who put her first and wasn’t satisfied until she was satisfied.
She didn’t delude herself into thinking that was Tate. She’d accepted he didn’t care for her in that way. Fine. But that didn’t mean she had to settle for Clint.
She didn’t like being alone. Who did? But having no boyfriend was far better than being scared and intimidated by Clint’s aggressive messages and threatening anger.
“Clint, I’m sorry, but I just don’t feel like you and I want the same things. Yes, we started off great, but—”
“Tate! He ruined it. He made you turn on me. Well, he can’t have you.” Clint rushed her, took her by the shoulders, hurting her sore one, leaned down, and smashed his lips to hers.
She dropped her bag, fought to get her hands between them, and pushed him away. The second she was free, she swiped the back of her hand across her mouth. “What the hell?”
He tried to pull her close again, but she struggled out of his hold and took several steps back. “Stop!”
He took a step closer.
She pointed a finger at him. “No! Another step and I scream bloody murder.”
“You’re being ridiculous.”
She spread her fingers and held her hand up to him. “I do not want you to touch me ever again.”
“Oh come on. You don’t mean that.”
“Yes. I do. Do not call me. Do not come to see me. We’re done.” She ran forward, grabbed her purse, rummaged for her keys, unlocked the car door, opened it, and rushed inside, slamming the door and locking it again. Her hands shook so badly, she scraped the key against the ignition several times before she pushed it into the slot.
She glanced over her shoulder to back out and found Clint standing dead center of her bumper glaring at her. “Move!”
“We aren’t over.”
“Move, or I’ll call the cops!” She didn’t have it in her to go another round about how this was over and done. For good. She didn’t care what he thought or said about it.
Clint’s mouth drew tight and his eyes narrowed. “I’ll see you soon.” He hesitated another second, then slowly stepped out of the way.
The second he was clear, she stomped on the gas pedal and backed out, braking only long enough to put the car in Drive and push the gas again. She sped out of the lot way faster than she should have, but her heart pounded in her chest so hard she couldn’t help but respond to the fear and get out of there as fast as possible.
She checked her rearview mirror and spotted Clint’s car about five cars behind her. She sped up and barely made it through a yellow light that turned red before she fully crossed the intersection.
Tears clogged her throat, but she choked them back. No way she shed another tear over that asshole.
She didn’t deserve to be treated this way. No one did.
She sucked in several deep breaths and let them out. Her heart slowed and she could breathe and think straight again. She let off the gas before a cop pulled her over. She didn’t see Clint on her tail but kept checking every couple minutes to be sure he hadn’t caught up to her again.
When she pulled into her carport she wished she had a garage with a door for added protection. Her hands shook when she shut off the engine and sat in the quiet for a minute with her forehead on the wheel.
“You’re okay, Liz. You’re home.” The pep talk didn’t really ease her mind, but she sat up, gathered her purse, keys, and phone, and got out of the car. She walked out of the parking area and around the corner of the building to the walkway. Still hyperaware of her surroundings, the sound of a car pulling up drew her attention. She peeked over her shoulder and spotted the back end of what looked like Clint’s car. She didn’t wait to see if it was him. She dashed down the path and up the stairs to her condo door.
She fumbled with her keys and stopped when she heard a deep voice coming from Ava’s condo followed by Ava’s laughter, then the man’s. The sound was so familiar, she turned and knocked on Ava’s door.
“Hey there,” Ava said by way of a greeting.
“I thought I heard—”
Ava stepped back and there was Tate sitting on the sofa with a beer in hand. Another sat on the table.
She backed up a step. “Sorry to interrupt.” She shoved the key in her lock, turned it, and went through the door, and pushed it to close the second she stepped in. But it didn’t slam like she wanted.
No. Tate shoved it open and walked right in. “Liz, what’s wrong?”
She kept her back to him and tossed her purse on the dining table. “Sorry I walked in on . . . whatever that was.” It was only a matter of time before Tate met Ava and got his flirt on like he did with every pretty girl he met.
She shouldn’t be surprised.
She shouldn’t feel hurt and rejected again.
“Ava asked if I wanted to wait at her place instead of sitting on the steps for you to come home. That’s all. I was waiting for you. I came to see you.”
Ava was a good friend and a kind person, which made Liz feel worse for thinking something was going on between them. Ava gave Tate a warm, but not flirty smile from her condo door across the short hall. “Nice to meet you, Tate.”
“Thanks for the update and the beer.”
Ava nodded. “I’ll leave the two of you to your evening.” She gave Liz a reassuring nod and closed her door.
Liz felt like a complete and utter fool. Humiliation burned her cheeks and made this day even worse.
Pity washed over Tate’s face, and she couldn’t stand it. “Just go. Leave me alone.” It was all too much. Hot tears fell down her cheeks.
Tate didn’t leave. He shut the door, walked right up to her, wrapped his arms around her, and held her close, his cheek pressed to her hair. “Sweetheart, I have no idea what is going on, but everything is going to be all right.”
She let the tears come in a torrent and shuddered in his arms.
He held her tighter. “I’ve got you, Liz. I won’t let you go.”
How come that sounded so good when Clint’s denial that they were over felt like a threat?
She pushed against Tate’s rock-solid chest and stepped back, but his hands came up to cup her face.
His thumbs swept over her wet cheeks. “What’s got you all unraveled?” When she didn’t answer, he took her shoulders in his hands and pressed on the swollen bruise on her left arm.
She winced and tried to move out of his grasp.
His eyes narrowed with concern and he hooked his finger in the collar of her shirt and pulled it down her arm as much as he could, revealing the purple splotches on the outside of her shoulder.
“Liz! Oh my God! What the hell!” He lightly brushed his fingers over the marks.
Even that small touch hurt and she hissed and stepped away, pulling her shirt up again. “Stop touching it.”
Tate pointed his finger at her. “Did he do that to you?”
She didn’t know what to say or do. She felt stupid and embarrassed that it happened. “It’s over.” That’s all he needed to know.
“Fucking right it is. I’ll kill him.” Tate turned for the door, but she grabbed his arm and managed to wiggle her way between him and the door before he opened it.
