The Way We Loved Read online

  All day Friday, he sulked like my appearance in town was a personal attack on him. Every once in a while, the armor he’d strapped on slipped and he would joke or laugh, but not long and not often. When he showed up Saturday, all that was gone. He was all business.

  I kinda missed the sullen looks. At least I understood those.

  My phone rings, and I run across the room to grab it before it goes to voicemail. The first of the investors is arriving this morning and I still don’t have a shirt on. I lay in the bed all night, tossing and turning when I finally fell asleep. This shit with Calvin has my mind twisted, out of the game. I need to focus if I’m going to get the help we need to turn this place around.

  Breathless and stressed to the max, I answer the phone. “Hello?”

  “Hello, Miss Smith. The GPS says I am five minutes away.”

  “Okay, excellent. I’ll meet you outside.”

  Searching through the suitcase I haven’t had time to unpack yet, I find a semi-clean shirt and toss it over my head before running down the stairs. I’ve barely slipped into my boots when I hear the gravel crunch signaling the arrival of my first potential investor.

  I lined up several before I left Arizona. Not many people were interested in hearing about farms or ranches, but an investor didn’t care what the product was as long as it would make them money. And I truly believe Point of Retreat could make money, but first it needs an overhaul.

  I open the door expecting to see the face of Mr. Davenport, but instead, I find Calvin. Neo is racing into the pasture like he has every morning since I’ve been here, only returning once he’s winded and thirsty. “What are you doing here?” I ask, forgetting to be docile.

  “I work here. Or did you forget that already?”

  “No. I just. Shit.” I stammer the words out.

  “What is it?”

  “I’ve got investors coming right this second, actually, to view the property, and I just can’t deal with you on top of it.”

  “Deal with me?”

  “Calvin, cut the shit. You’ve been distant and petty as hell all weekend, and that’s fine if you want to be mean to me, if you need to pay me back for hurting you or whatever. I can handle it, but right now, I need to be focused on these people showing up so I can help the ranch, and I can’t do that and tiptoe around you too.”

  I can tell I’ve offended him or pissed him off. I’m not sure which, and I don’t have time to figure it out because Mr. Davenport pulls in at that moment.

  “Shit. Please just don’t be a dick to them, okay? They are here to help.”

  I leave him and greet my first potential investor, plastering a smile the size of Texas on my face. I take Mr. Davenport around, pointing out things I’d like to change and sharing my ideas with him. He seems interested, but then again, they usually do. When we’re done, he tells me he will be in contact. I wave goodbye and then rush inside to grab a quick cup of coffee before the next investor arrives.

  Cal is at the table when I walk in. He passes me a mug filled with cream just the way I like it. I take the offered mug the way a bomb tech would an explosive, with the utmost care and a little concern.

  “Thanks?” I don’t mean for the statement to curl into a question, but it does.

  “I’ve been an ass. I’m sorry. Is there anything I can help with?”

  “Do you mean that?”

  “Fuck, Blake. Of course, I mean it. I’ve been busting my ass to help this place, and if you know a way I can do that, then I’m all yours.”

  My pulse jumps when he says I’m all yours. Even if I know he doesn’t mean it that way, it’s still an echo of a promise he made to me years ago.

  “I could use you. You know this place better than me. You have the passion they need to see. Tossing money at something is one thing, but if they know the people working here have a true desire to make it work, then it could push them to say yes.”

  “I can do that.”

  “I hope you’re sure because our next visitor just pulled in.”

  As soon as the mother—daughter duo step out of their Range Rover, Cal turns on the Southern charm. I’d laugh if it wasn’t working so well. We walk the property while Calvin explains to them the purpose of everything we come across. I try to interject and lead the tour back to task, but my words fall on deaf ears. I’m not sure which one of the two is flirting more, but if Cal notices, he doesn’t show it. By the time we make it back to their vehicle, the mother has lost two layers of clothing and the daughter is pretending to limp so she can lean on Cal’s big, strong arm.

  As they drive away, I lean over holding my stomach and laugh so hard I really might pee my pants. “Oh, Cal, my foot! Can you carry me?”

  “Shut up.”

  “Aw, don’t be such a sourpuss.”

  “Who’s being a sourpuss?” Beau asks, appearing out of nowhere. I jump and squeal before laughing some more., this time at myself.

  “Calvin made a few lady friends,” I say, trying to catch Beau up between fits of laughter.

  “Not friends. They’re potential investors, and I was being nice,” Cal says, blushing.

  “You should have seen them. They were falling all over him, worshiping him like a prized pig.”

  “You’re just mad they ignored you the whole time,” Cal says, taking a dig at me.

  “Do you think they will invest?” Beau asks, and Cal shrugs.

  “I think they might, if for no other reason than to see Cal again.” His hand reaches out lightning-fast, but I sidestep and dance out of his grasp, giggling like a schoolgirl.

  The rest of the afternoon follows the same pattern. Investors arrive, we escort them around the property, Cal fills in areas I don’t know yet, and then we pick at each other until the next arrives. It’s nice, this change in him. He reminds me of the old Cal, the one I couldn’t help but fall in love with. The Cal I’d planned to spend my forever with.

  7

  #spilledcoffee

  Blake

  The morning is cool and crisp. A welcomed reprieve after the blistering ninety degrees yesterday. Dew glistens on each blade of grass, a welcome reminder that fall is coming and with it change, but not yet. One thing I remember clearly about Alabama is the false fall. Every year, a month or so before actual fall, we would have a week of cool temps. The leaves would take their final breath before curling and the grass would slow its growth. Couples would line their porches with mustard yellow mums and break out the fall décor, only for the temps to rise again the next week.

  I spent most of the day walking and exploring the ranch yesterday. It would make promoting it a lot easier if I knew it inside and out. Not much has changed in the eleven years since I was last here. I don’t know what I expected, but in a lot of ways, I felt like I had stepped back in time.

  The only thing that has changed is me.

  I don’t know how I fit here anymore. If I fit at all.

  “Morning.” Calvin appears out of nowhere, startling me. I jump, sloshing coffee over the rim of the mug.

  “Hey. You scared me.” I wipe my hand down the side of my jeans and set the mug on the porch rail.

  Calvin Hunt has changed too. Gone is the boy I grew up chasing through corn fields and cotton patches. In his place is a man, rugged and masculine. He gives off an aura of strength, and coupled with his nonchalant attitude, it’s enough to leave any girl guessing.

  “Sleep well?” Really, Blake? Why the hell am I asking him how he slept? Judging by the look on his face, he seems to be wondering the same thing. Raising his brow in question, he steps on the porch next to me and I forget to breathe. If I thought I couldn’t concentrate when he was in the yard, that is nothing compared to now when he is inches away from me, leaning against the porch railing without a care in the world.

  He’s wearing another pair of those damn jeans again, the ones that hug his legs snugly. Not so tight that he can’t bend over or squat, but fitted enough that his ass is on display. His shirt, light blue and untucked, make
s the colored freckles in his eyes pop. His arms are lean but muscular. Strong, I think, recalling the bruise on Beau’s jaw. Capable of hurting someone, but if I remember correctly, they also feel like heaven wrapped around me.

  A lustful sigh escapes when I recall what else his body is capable of doing. The way he moves on top of me, hard and sure, soft and vulnerable. I shouldn’t be thinking about him like this. Hell, I shouldn’t be thinking about anything like this. I left Mesa and the drama of men behind. It was time for a fresh start. A new beginning. Dammit, there’s work to be done.

  I don’t have time for butterflies or daydreaming.

  Calvin pulls a red handkerchief from his back pocket and pushes it with the gentlest touch to my chest. The breath I was inhaling stops, trapped in my lungs. “You’ve got coffee there,” he says. I stare into his eyes, my hand on his hand on my chest, unable to look away, unable to move. Held paralyzed by his touch. Shocking electric waves course along my skin, straight to my core where they pool, warming me until I think I may combust.

  “I think I got it.” He doesn’t move his hand. I register his words in the distant part of my brain that is still functioning. The rest has short-circuited with one touch from him. Not even a romantic touch, just the long-missed feel of his skin against my own.

  “Th–thank you.” He’s turned me into a stuttering mess. When he pulls his hand away, some brain function returns. Not much, just enough to exhale the breath I’ve been holding captive. My body betrays me, selfish bitch that it is. Calvin is still inches from my side. I can feel the heat coming off him, and it makes my skin break out in chills, which makes no freaking sense, considering the sun has officially broken across the horizon and with it, the raging heat of Alabama’s summertime.

  This close, I take in all of his features. He needs a haircut. The russet brown strands that perfectly match his tobacco colored eyes are starting to curl around his ears. My fingers twitch, begging to run through it. His full lips are parted, his own breath pushing between them in a warm caress. He leans toward me, and I pull my eyes from his mouth only for them to jump right back there in anticipation. His shoulder brushes against my chest. I swear he can feel my heart beating inside my chest, he’s that close, but instead of kissing me like I expect, he grabs my coffee cup and then, turning on his heel, walks into the house. I slump into the white rocker and for the next five minutes question my sanity.

  What the hell am I thinking? Of course, Calvin Hunt isn’t trying to kiss me. I left town, leaving him behind with nothing but his memories and an aching heart. I bury my face in my hands and take a few deep, calming breaths. “Get it together, Blake.”

  The slam of the screen door makes me jump for the second time in the last ten minutes, and this time, Calvin barks out a laugh. “Why so jumpy, Sugar?”

  I narrow my eyes at his use of the stereotypical endearment and stand, taking a step toward him. If he wants to play this game, I can play it better. “Long night.” I wink. “Not a lot of rest.” I leave him to interpret that however he sees fit. His eyes narrow, his mouth hardening, and I give myself an imaginary fist bump.

  Calvin- 0

  Blake- 1

  Yes, I know it's petty to lead him to believe I was up doing sexy, inappropriate things, but I can’t help it. He already got the better of me twice and left me leaning in for a kiss he had no plan of offering. In a move of pure luck, Beau walks out and saves me from embarrassing myself further.

  “Ready, Buttercup?” Beau asks, pulling my ponytail.

  “Yep,” I say, taking a step off the porch.

  I’m about three steps ahead of the guys when I hear Calvin ask Beau, “Sleep well last night?”

  I spin around and take a few steps backward. Beau is eyeballing Cal like he’s grown three heads and eaten half of his cattle. “Not really. Late night,” he says.

  “Hmph,” Cal replies. I spin back around and try to contain the grin stretching across my face.

  “Alone?” Calvin asks. I can’t contain the laugh that slips out. Beau doesn’t have a chance to reply before Calvin detours and heads to the feed room.

  “Wanna explain what that was all about?” Beau asks, catching up to me.

  “Hmm?” I feign innocence.

  “Blake . . .”

  Ugh. Why do all the men in my life want so much from me? Can’t a girl have a secret? Sheesh.

  “He asked why I was so jumpy, and I didn’t want to tell him it was because I didn’t know how to act around him, so I told him I had a late night and didn’t get much sleep. If you know what I mean.”

  “And then I . . .” His eyes widen at the implication. “Shit, Blake, are you trying to get me killed here?”

  “No.” Laughter bubbles up from somewhere deep inside now, and I can’t stop it. “I’ll set him straight if he gets too upset. Don’t worry.” I pinch his arm. “Now, how was your night? Was that Janie I saw darting out of here before the sun came up this morning?”

  Beau’s hand clamps over my mouth. “Shh. You saw that?” I nod and lick his hand. He pulls it back, wiping it on his jeans. “It’s nothing, really.”

  “Mmmhmm, sure it isn’t,” I say, mock kissing the air.

  “God, you’re such a damn baby,” he says. I slap him hard, and he laughs, catching my hand in his when I swing again. Cal walks back in at that moment, and I die on the spot, laughing so hard I’m bending at the waist.

  “Beau. Can I see you for a sec?” Cal ignores my presence, looking only at Beau. He’s in a worse mood now than earlier. The tension in the barn reaches all new heights. Beau turns to follow Cal outside, holding his hands together at his chest. “Pray for me,” he mouths before stepping out of the barn.

  I really shouldn’t be messing with Calvin like this, and for a second, I’m worried he might think something serious is going on with me and Beau. I decide to clear it up before Cal gets his pants in a wad, but when I walk out of the barn, they’re both gone.

  After a lengthy search of the front, I pause, listening. All I hear is the sound of the ranch waking. They’ve both disappeared. Shrugging my shoulders, I head back into the barn. I’ve got a crap ton of work I need to do if I plan on having the new website for Point of Retreat Ranch live by the end of the week. I had hoped I would get more time with Calvin while learning, but it appears he is hell-bent on avoiding me at all costs. It’s for the best.

  After the way my body reacted to him this morning, I wasn’t sure I would be able to control my actions. If he’d leaned in and captured my mouth with his, I wouldn’t—couldn’t—have stopped him. What’s worse is I knew I wouldn’t even want to. I wasn’t expecting all these urges to come back when I saw him. For some reason, I figured I’d be able to treat him the same way I treated Beau, like a really good friend. We had a past, but that didn’t mean we couldn’t have a future as something else, right?

  If the ache between my thighs were any indicator, I was more than just wrong.

  I was slap fucking crazy.

  Last night had been a long night for me, and not only because I was working. I tossed and turned in the bed for hours trying to find a comfortable position, finally falling asleep sometime in the early morning hours only to wake again, pulse racing, legs clenched tight, with Cal’s name on my lips and his body my only desire.

  I’ve been trying to erase all thought of him since.

  I said trying. I’m not perfect, okay?

  There are two things I value above all else in life.

  My sleep and my coffee.

  Calvin Hunt is screwing with them both. The first by being so damn sexy I couldn’t get him out of my head and fall asleep, and the second by scaring me half to death and making me spill my coffee. He deserved payback, but that would require my thinking about him, and I’m not doing that anymore.

  I’m not.

  If I said it enough, maybe it would come true. Isn’t that some kind of law? No, wait. That’s not right.

  If it can go wrong, it will.

  Still pretty damn
accurate.

  “Argh. Men!” I stomp my foot and recommit to ignoring them all. Samson paws his stall wall, calling for my attention, and I smile.

  Maybe not all men. Just the two-legged variety.

  8

  #notagain

  Calvin

  I’ll kill him.

  I swear, I will.

  Blake is off limits. He knows that. I shouldn’t even have to say the words. What kind of man goes after the girl who tore out your best friend’s heart? A shitty one.

  “Calm down, Cal. I know what you’re thinking,” Beau says, stepping outside.

  “Do you?” I ask, climbing into the horse trailer. I’ve got to get this thing cleaned out and ready to transport Billie back to her place this weekend.

  “Yeah, pretty sure I do. Blake’s just fucking with you. She said you started it,” Beau says, leaning against the trailer door.

  “Did she now?” I think back to our interaction earlier, wondering. Is it possible she wanted me to kiss her as much as I wanted to?

  I had been about to. God help me, but I couldn’t be around the woman and not fucking want her. She was perfection. All five feet eight inches of her. I grin, imagining the torturous things I’d like to do with her sly mouth.

  Vixen.

  Beau shakes his head back and forth. “What the hell did I think would happen, bringing you two together?”

  “What?” I ask, feigning innocence.

  “Really? Both of you are going to cause me to go to an early grave. I can’t deal with y’all. I’m going to check the cattle. Help her with whatever she needs, and for God’s sake, keep your hands to yourself.” He says the last as sternly as he can without sounding like a fool. Beau the playboy himself. He couldn’t fault my train of thought, no matter how much he wanted to.

  “No promises,” I call back to him with a sly smile.

  He’s mumbling to himself as he stomps off. I wipe the grin off my face before going to find Blake. This could be fun. As long as she’s willing. There aren’t any rules against having fun as long as neither of us gets our feelings involved. Right?