The Way We Loved Read online

  Fresh Start was left in the capable hands of my assistant with strict instructions to contact me daily with any questions or concerns. She ran the place already. The only difference now would be that instead of seeing me daily, she’d need to call me. Sitting in the floor of the guest bedroom, I’d stuffed my face with food and scheduled a month’s worth of Instagram and Facebook posts. Shelly, my assistant, emailed any prior event coordinators to reschedule, or in the event they didn’t want to, cancel. For the first time in six years, I was taking a break and focusing on what I needed. One day, I planned to pick it all back up, but I couldn’t in good faith do so until I had the scrambled mess of thoughts swarming like vultures around a carcass straightened out first.

  I’d been toying with the idea of taking a vacation for a few months. Well, since catching Brad, but I didn’t want to lie on a beach and listen to waves wash ashore. I needed to work. I just didn’t want to be the face of change right now. I was tired of showing up on stage and putting on a smile that I didn’t feel. Even the thought of lunch with Carl couldn’t break me out of my sullen mood. The only thing that helped was visiting the shelter. I had started volunteering there a few years ago. It was more than philanthropic work for me. The animals were a balm that eased my mind and gave me a getaway from my busy schedule. They were my family. Another thing that Brad didn’t understand. His idea of helping others was tossing change in a bucket, and even that was stretching it for him.

  What had begun as menial work that didn’t require too much thinking had quickly turned into one of my most sacred reprieves. Especially the horses. Before volunteering at the shelter, I hadn’t seen or touched a horse in the years since leaving home. Now, I didn’t go a week without them.

  The shrill ring of my cell breaks me out of my inner thoughts. I fish around in my purse with one hand while keeping my eyes on the road and then abandon the search altogether and press the car’s Bluetooth button.

  “Hello?” My fingers lift the control buttons, rolling the windows back up one and a time, until I can hear more than the wind in my ears.

  “What’s up, Sunshine? You make it in yet?” Beau’s country drawl, heightened after a long day and lack of sleep, fills my car speakers. When I spoke to him this morning, he filled me in on part of his daily routine. It made my daily schedule look like kindergarten recess.

  “I just passed Old Man Pete’s.” Glancing back, I watch the old ruin fade in my rearview mirror.

  “Well, hot damn, you’re ’bout here. I got the room all cleaned out and had Greg come by and spray for critters, just in case. Honk when you pull up and I’ll come help carry your stuff upstairs.”

  “Okay, sounds good. I’ll see you in five.” I press the End button on my dash, disconnecting from the call.

  Beau and I have been friends since grade school. Along with Calvin, who I tried not to think about right now. Calvin and I had left things unfinished when I left town, and I still didn’t know how to handle seeing him again. It had been eleven years since I last saw him or spoke to him. My leaving hurt him more than either of us expected it to. I’m almost positive Cal hasn’t forgiven me for it.

  Over the years, Beau and I stayed in touch. He followed my career and my life. Any time I had a big win, I could count on a package from home filled with berry jams and clippings from the local newspaper. I loved getting them. Not only because I knew he was keeping up with me, but also because they reminded me of home, of where I came from and how far I had made it.

  Look at me now. Back in Greentown, Alabama, the place I ran from as fast I could the moment I turned eighteen. I hadn’t looked back in all that time. Funny that now, it’s the only place that feels safe.

  I pull up to Beau’s plantation-inspired home and honk twice.

  It’s strange how fate works, sometimes. I was about halfway through the mini fridge in the hotel the night I caught Brad when Beau called. I tried to ignore the call, but in my intoxicated state, I pressed the green Accept button instead of the red Decline. It took less than twenty seconds before I unloaded on Beau. Most days, I’m more of a suffer in silence type of person, but that night, I needed to vent and he let me. When I finished, he told me to pack my shit and come home.

  I had a dozen reasons why I couldn’t, why it was a bad idea. He’d countered each one of them until the only one left was Calvin.

  He will get over it. Don’t worry about him. You need this.

  He was right. I needed it, and if Calvin couldn’t get over it, then screw him. Every day since that call, he has checked up on me, and every time, he asks when I plan to come. Of course, we both know part of his annoying pushiness has to do with the fact that he needs help too.

  I’ve got one foot on solid ground and the other hovering above the driver’s floorboard when Beau sweeps me up in his arms, pulling me the rest of the way out. My feet dangle inches off the ground. He squeezes me, and my back cracks in ten different places. I wrap my arms around his neck and breathe in the intoxicating scent of home.

  “Fucking hell, Blake, it’s been too long.” He sets me on my feet and takes a step back. “Shit, you look like you got run over by a garbage truck.”

  I slap his chest. “Screw you, Beau. I told you I drove straight through.” And doesn’t he know you’re never supposed to tell a girl she looks like hell? Men. I hate them all.

  “Yeah, but you know you can brush your hair and drive at the same time,” he says, dodging my striking hand.

  “Shut up and help me carry this stuff inside so I can shower. Asshole,” I mumble under my breath.

  “I heard that.”

  Well, I certainly hope so. “Listen, I really appreciate your letting me stay here, Beau, “I say, looking around the converted apartment above his garage. “I couldn’t . . . I didn’t . . .” My words trail off and my throat constricts upon thinking about the home I grew up in with my mom. It’s been here, abandoned by me all those years ago. I’m not ready to deal with it yet, just like I’m not ready to deal with my house in Arizona.

  “It’s not a problem. I ‘m here for as long as you need.”

  It takes three trips each before we get it all inside the small apartment above his garage. Eyeballing the stools around the counter, I contemplate sitting for a minute but decide on a shower instead. I really do stink.

  “I’ll be right back. Why don’t you go grab us a couple of beers and meet me back here in twenty?” I say, taking a step toward the bathroom.

  “Sure thing, Boss.” Beau salutes on his way out the door.

  Shaking my head, I go to scrub off a couple of layers of filth. It really does feel good to be back here even though I’ve just arrived. It’s kinda like stopping by Grandma’s after church on Sunday and falling asleep on the couch. There is a calmness or comfort in the known. This is my hometown and nothing like the big cities I was accustomed to spending time in. It was a simpler place. Not that people in Alabama didn’t work hard. I’d be willing to bet half of my savings there were a few city slickers, Brad included, who wouldn’t last a day in the South doing manual labor. It would damn well be funny to see his ass try.

  There was less rush, less hustle here. People didn’t mind stopping in the street to catch up with a friend they missed at Sunday service. If a family was having a hard time, the whole town knew about it, but they also showed up with dinner and extra clothes their kids had outgrown. I’d never seen anyone in the city do that. The bigger cities were full of people, full of noise, full of life, but they lacked the simpler things. The things that made a place home.

  It was a good idea, coming back here. The reasons I left no longer held power over me. I had healed and was too damn busy to realize it.

  3

  #fuckinghell

  Calvin

  Warm pink and gold tendrils of light peek across the pasture line as I pull up at the ranch. I’m early, but since we had new help coming in this morning, I wanted to make sure I showed up before they did.

  The kitchen light is on in Beau’s,
which means he’s up and coffee is brewing. Gravel crunches under my feet, drowning out the wistful crow of Red, the ranch rooster. Frogs croak in the distance, competing with the playful chatter of the birds until Neo chases after them, barking.

  Her laughter echoes through the morning air as soon as I step on the porch. Sweet, soft and tinkling. I’ve heard it every night for the last eleven years in my dreams. My mind can’t process why I hear it now, but my legs don’t seem to care either way. They carry me forward, searching, aching. My arms reach out and open the door without my deciding to do so.

  In the next breath, she is standing in front of me and I’m drowning. She hasn’t changed at all, and yet, everything has changed. Her honey brown eyes flit back and forth between me and Beau, who grabs another cup and fills it before passing it my way. I take it from him, my arms and hands continuing to perform outside of my awareness.

  “You’re early,” he comments casually. Can’t he see I’m losing my mind here? Either I’m going crazy or Blakelynn Smith is standing in front of me wearing a slip of a grin and the sexiest jeans I’ve ever seen on a woman.

  I nod, still unable to force words out. She holds me captive with her gaze, her eyes scanning my face, searching, seeking. I need her to release me.

  “Well, this has been fun. Blake, you ready to go meet the horses?” Beau asks, and Blake nods, pulling her gaze from mine. I have control of my body again, not that I know what to do with it. They pass by me on the way out the door, the smell of her lilac perfume snaking around and choking me with memories long since passed. I stand there for a moment staring at the empty pot, a mug of hot coffee in my hand, and try to understand what just happened. More importantly, why the hell was my Blake standing in Beau’s kitchen at . . . I glance at the clock . . . 5:23 in the morning?

  They’re halfway to the barn when I walk out the door. My pulse rages, my heart beating wildly in my ears.

  “Beau.” He stops and turns back toward me. I watch his hand lift and touch her back, his other pointing to the barn. She takes a step forward, followed by another, without glancing back. I close the distance between Beau and me.

  “Listen, I know this is hard . . .” he starts. I don’t let him finish. My mind has latched onto the image of his hand brushing against her back.

  Natural. Comfortable.

  I haven’t seen Blakelynn Smith in over ten years, and until a few moments ago, was under the impression that he hasn’t either, but that touch leads me to believe I was wrong. So fucking wrong. I can’t think straight. My brain and heart war with each other, one telling me there is no way Beau would hook up with Blake, behind my back or otherwise. He’s my best friend. A brother to me. We’ve been through hell together and managed to pull ourselves back out of the fiery pits a time or two. Together. He knows what she meant to me. He wouldn’t cross that line.

  The other keeps revisiting the flash of his hand on her shoulder. Her standing in his kitchen, a slight, shy smile on her face. The fact that I had no knowledge of her coming here or why.

  My heart wants to believe Beau is the friend I know him to be, but my mind deals with facts, and the glaring fact of the matter is that Blake is here and Beau didn’t tell me.

  I shove him hard. He stumbles back a few steps, holding his hands up in surrender. “Calvin, calm the hell down.”

  I shove him again. “What the hell was that? What the hell is she doing here in your house?” I grind the words out, the scene replaying over and over.

  I push his shoulders again, but this time, he doesn’t move. His hands push back against me. “You need to stop. You don’t want this.”

  He’s wrong. This is exactly what I want. I need this. My arm darts out, my swing hitting him squarely in the jaw. “How could you do this? You, of all fucking people.” I want to hit him again and again, but he won’t fight me back. Instead, he steps to the side, avoiding me when I take a step toward him, my fist balled, my pulse still screaming in my ears to do something. Anything.

  “It’s not like that, and fuck you for even thinking it.” A red blush creeps up his face. His anger is showing, even if he refuses to act on it. I’ve always known how to push his buttons and make him react. It’s not the first time we’ve come to blows over something. I doubt it would be the last.

  “Then how the hell is it?” My anger fades, disappearing as my heart rate slows and logic returns. Maybe I was wrong earlier. My heart wasn’t the one seeing things clearly. It’s the delusional part of my body. The part acting rather than thinking. In the place of my anger is something I don’t want to take the time to decipher but know so well.

  Pain.

  “She’s the new help I told you about.” His voice, louder than a whisper but nowhere near a shout, cuts through me. His words paralyze me on the spot.

  Fuck. Me.

  “You didn’t think to mention that?” I ask, trying and failing to fully understand the ramifications of his words. Trying my damndest to understand his thought process in general. Did he think this would be a good idea? Was he trying to fucking torture me?

  “I would have told you it was her, but every damn time I bring up her name, you shut me down.”

  “Son of a . . .” I start but get distracted by Beau rubbing his jaw, a bruise darkening the surface. “Shit, man, I’m—”

  “Don’t worry about it. Let’s get inside and get started.”

  He might not let me apologize, but that doesn’t keep me from feeling like shit about it. Beau and I haven’t physically fought since he sold one of my favorite horses without telling me about it. That was the day we decided that to keep from killing each other, he would handle the cattle and I’d handle the boarding.

  I acted like a damn hotheaded teenager, a fact that shames me deeply. I’ve put in a lot of work to be a better man than this. And yet within twenty minutes of being in Blake’s presence, I’m back to the man she left. I refuse to allow all of my hard work to go up in flames over a pretty face and long-lost crush. I’ve busted my ass to build something better for myself, and I refuse to ruin that now. Not because of a damn woman who left, tearing my heart straight from my chest on her way out of town.

  I need to stay as far away from Blakelynn Smith as possible. It shouldn’t be too hard. Point of Retreat Ranch is huge. There’s enough work here for twenty people with more to spare. Plenty for both of us to do and never see each other.

  When I round the corner of the barn, I almost have myself convinced until I see her cooing at Samson, a horse Beau convinced me work with a few months ago. My stomach drops. He’s the hardest bastard we board and is known for showing his teeth when you least suspect it. Most days, I feel bad for the poor guy. I don’t know his story, but one thing’s certain. He’s had a hard life.

  How the hell am I supposed to keep my distance and make sure she doesn’t kill herself out here?

  It’s going to be harder than I thought to steer clear of her. At least until she learns the ins and outs of the ranch. I make a mental list of everything I need to show her, to prepare her for.

  First on the list is Samson.

  4

  #hotmess

  Blake

  Seeing Calvin’s surprise this morning was unexpected. I knew he and Beau had partnered in the ranch when Beau’s dad passed, so I anticipated running into him. His reaction to seeing me, though, had me thinking that Beau never told him I was coming. I thought after all this time, I was in a place where I was ready to see him. I was wrong. Nothing could have prepared me for when he walked through the back door this morning with that dumbstruck look on his face.

  If anything, he’s more attractive than I remember. All six feet three inches of well-toned, hard flesh. I almost choked on coffee when he walked in the door, and that was before I even processed who it was, but when I did and the memory of his hands on my body flooded my mind, I couldn’t look away. Chills erupted across my flesh. Thankfully, Beau pulled me out of my stupor and got me out of that room and house and away from him. For now.
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br />   I should have put a little more thought into how being around him would affect things. Especially considering how close we will work together on turning the ranch around.

  Beau is rubbing his jaw when they round the corner. My eyes widen and he shakes his head. When I glance at Cal, his eyes are on the ground in front of him, refusing to meet my gaze. When he looks up, I look away until he opens his mouth. I can’t decide if hearing his voice is my personal heaven or hell. Until his words register, that is. Hell. Definitely hell. I’d forgotten how patronizing he could be. All in the name of protection. One day, maybe he would learn I didn’t need protecting. Didn’t want it.

  “You should stay away from Samson here. He’s too much horse for the toughest man. Best start her with Billie or Suzy.” He points to the other end of the barn.

  I look to Beau and see his eyes sparkle. So, Calvin doesn’t know any of what I’ve been doing the last ten years. Interesting. I can’t decide whether I’m disappointed or relieved. A little of both, I think.

  “I think Samson here will be just fine, unless you think I should visit Billie first, Beau?”

  Calvin glances at Beau, sure he’s won round one of our verbal sparring. It takes everything I have not to laugh and rub his smug face into a pile of manure. I know it’s not fair. If he hasn’t kept up with my life, then he doesn’t know I work with animals as often as I can. I may not be as familiar with horses as he is, but I know my way around.