The Way We Loved Read online

  But she belongs to another man now. And I’m over her.

  Of course, Spark let me know exactly what he thought about that when he lifted his tail and let one rip.

  13

  #regrets

  Blake

  I realized three things sitting on the dusty floor of the barn after Calvin ripped into me yesterday.

  One. He thought I was the worst kind of cheating piece of shit. And I hated that.

  He viewed me the way I viewed Brad. And that sucked ass.

  Two. I wanted Calvin Hunt. And not just as a partner in this new business venture. I wanted him the way I hadn’t wanted something since I was eighteen and couldn’t think past leaving this town and starting my life. I wanted him on a fundamental level I wasn’t sure I even understood yet, but the thought that he saw me as someone who could break a promise like marriage vows or anything else really bothered me.

  I hadn’t figured out how to explain the situation yet. Not without making him also feel like I had lied to him about being engaged. The entire time we hung flags, I was trying to find a way to broach the subject, but nothing sounded good in my head.

  Oh, hey, Calvin. You know when you said I was stripping you with my eyes? It’s because my body is craving your touch.

  Oh, yeah, Calvin. I forgot to mention that fiancé I was talking about . . . well, he doesn’t exist.

  Hey, Cal, I’m so pathetic at relationships that my fiancé decided to sleep with my best friend.

  Nothing worked.

  And three, I am the biggest damn idiot this side of the Mississippi. I could have set him straight yesterday, but instead, I let my temper get in my way. I had a thing about men assuming the worst of women, and in this instance, he really had the right.

  Before I know it, we’re done and the sun is setting. We’ve spoken fewer than ten sentences to one another, and I could cry from disappointment.

  “I’ll unsaddle the horses and brush them down. It’s been a long day. I’m sure you’re tired,” Calvin offers, and I nod, sliding from the saddle.

  After tying Annie off, I head toward the house, but instead of taking a shower and relaxing, I grab a six-pack of beer from the fridge and head back to the barn. Calvin’s already got the saddles off both horses when I make it back. I turn the corner and run straight into him. He’s taken his shirt off, and every single muscled line of perfection is on display.

  I trip over my own feet trying to back away, and he reaches out to steady me. My skin tingles where his fingers grip my arm. I hold up the beer as an explanation since I can’t seem to speak, and he grins. I swear to God, my body temperature rises ten degrees with that smile. Calvin takes the six-pack from me and sets it on a hay bale, pulling two free. He twists the tops off, passing me one.

  I pull a horse blanket off the stall door and lay it across the hay bale before sitting down. I’m going to have this conversation whether it kills me or not.

  “I wanted to talk.”

  Calvin’s brow raises, but he doesn’t reply.

  Suck it up, buttercup, and spit it out.

  Honestly, I’ve never been the type of girl who’s afraid to speak. I usually have too much to say. I’m the most opinionated person I know, and it’s a struggle on most days to keep my mouth shut until someone asks for my opinion. I lost plenty of friends before I learned that.

  Hell, I made a career out of talking to people. Of sharing my life with people. The good and the bad, the pretty and the ugly. I realize now that I’ve done my followers a disservice by backing away while I deal with my own drama. They come to me with all of their ugly. I owe them the truth of my own. I decide to record about it tomorrow.

  To bare it all.

  But first, I need to tell Calvin.

  14

  #noregrets

  Calvin

  “I think there was a misunderstanding somewhere, and I should’ve cleared it up as soon as I realized it, but honestly, I let my anger get in the way. For that, I hope you can forgive me.” Blake stands and starts pacing. I remember she did this when she was younger, too, any time she needed to work out a problem or say something important, so I let her pace and I wait.

  “When you yelled at me about eye fucking you, you were right. I’m sorry about that, by the way.” Definitely didn’t expect this conversation.

  “Its fine, Blake. I shouldn’t have—”

  “No, let me finish,” she says, and I clamp my mouth shut. “I didn’t expect you to find out about Brad that way.”

  When I raise my brow, she understands. “Brad is the fiancé. But that’s not what I meant, either. I didn’t expect anyone to know about him, and I guess that’s my fault. I mean, I put everything online for the world, so of course, people knew, but I guess I didn’t expect someone from back home to care enough to be following me.”

  “So, you’re sorry someone let the cat out of the bag? Sorry you got caught?”

  “No. No. I don’t care about that.”

  “I don’t understand, Blake. What are you trying to say?”

  “When I came here, or when I decided to come back here, it was so I could get away. I needed space and I needed to find myself again, I think.”

  “Okay . . . so things aren’t perfect,” I say, trying to follow her zigzagging conversation.

  “Yes. I mean no. Fuck, why is this so damn hard?”

  “Brad was sleeping with my best friend.”

  I take a step closer to her, invading her personal space.

  “What are you saying?” I ask. I need to be sure. I need to hear the words from her mouth.

  “I don’t have a fiancé. I have no one. I wasn’t cheating on my person. I don’t have a person.”

  I crush my mouth to hers, pulling her closer until her body is melded to my own. Her lips part, and my tongue dives inside, teasing her own. She tastes like watermelon and sunshine. I don’t want to ever let her go.

  I could kiss her for hours. Days, even. But one of the horse’s neighs breaks through, and we separate, breathing heavily. She laughs a little and leans in to wrap her arms around my neck. Her lips touch mine as light as a feather, and then she kisses the side of my mouth, my cheek, and down my neck before finding my lips again. Her own lips are smiling.

  “I was afraid you would be mad.”

  “Why the hell would I be mad? I’ve wanted to do that since I saw you standing in Beau’s kitchen.”

  “I thought you might feel like I had lied to you, which, so we’re clear, was never my intention.”

  I take her hand, and together, we finish tending to the horses. For the first time since she arrived, the conversation flows freely. It finally feels like my Blake is back.

  15

  #teenagelove

  Blake

  When I wake the next morning, it’s with a smile on my face. I lie in the bed and remember the night before. We didn’t do anything other than kiss, but it was perfect. I felt like a teen again, making out with my boyfriend. We finished the six-pack and then lay in the front yard, staring at the stars.

  Calvin wanted to know all about the last decade of my life, and it felt good to fill him in. I promised to show him some of my work today after I got the new website for PRR up and running. He didn’t have any social media accounts, so trying to explain how the posts work was difficult.

  I get dressed and make my way downstairs. It’s become a daily habit to meet Beau for coffee before starting our day. When I walk in the door, Calvin is already there. I grin, passing him to get my own cup and humming while I pour cream. When I turn back around, Beau is looking at me like I’ve grown three heads.

  “What?” I ask, taking a seat at the table.

  Beau glances from me to Calvin and back to me before slapping his hand on the table. “Well I’ll be. What do we have here?”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Calvin replies, and I smile.

  “What?” I ask again.

  Beau stands pointing at first me and then Cal. “I see what’s hap
pening here. I see it and I like it,” he says, pouring himself another cup.

  I toss back my head and laugh. Leave it to Beau to call the nail on its head. It’s one of the things I love the most about him. He doesn’t bullshit anyone. If he has something to say, he says it. Period.

  “I think I like it too,” I say on my way out the door.

  I’m going live this morning again with my Instagram, but this time, I plan on letting my followers know what’s been going on. It’s going to be a hard video to film, but after clearing the air with Calvin, I feel better about it. Either way, I plan to give them my truth. But first, I want to spend some time with Samson.

  I’ve been wanting to talk with Beau about Samson. He has done so well here that it’s got me thinking about how we could help other horses in similar situations. Up until now, the ranch has mostly only boarded horses, but this fall, we will start offering riding lessons and trail rides. It would be amazing to add a rehabilitation program to the ranch as well.

  I’ve read amazing things on the uses of essential oils in aromatherapy for horses and equine interactive massage. Both of which I think would benefit a number of horses that have been hurt and traumatized from injury or even abuse. It would take a while to get it up and running, and someone would need to be hired to run the program, but I only know of one other similar program, and it’s in southern California. There’s nothing on the East Coast.

  It’s one of those things that would set PRR apart from all the competition.

  I saddle Samson and walk him to the hitch post. He prances back and forth, excited. It’s been almost five months since I rode him, and I can feel the energy pulsing off him in waves. I check his girth and bridle before unlatching the lead line from his bridle, then I climb onto his back. He takes off before I’m fully settled. I ease my boot into the stirrup and gather the reins. Calvin steps out of the house as we pass.

  “Shit, Blake. Wait,” he calls, and I toss back my head laughing, letting Samson run.

  We fly across the pasture, cutting ground. My hair whips around my head wild and free. I let him run until we near the creek and then pull him to a trot. When we reach the end of the easy trail Calvin and I marked, we cross the creek and slow climb the hills. The view takes my breath away.

  I can see for miles. A low fog hangs to the treetops, a sign of fall coming. Golden hues of light mix with blues of the sky and spread across the eastern skyline. Birds call to their mates in a symphony that would rival the greatest artist.

  Another string loosens from within. I’ve missed this, its pure and welcoming embrace. In Arizona, the mountains are bare and the fields all clay. The colors are just as amazing, but in a different way. This feels like life. Arizona feels like the past. I know at some point, I will go back, but I don’t think I will ever call it home again.

  Samson paws at the ground while I take in the surrounding beauty. I wonder how it feels for him to be safe and loved. I reach down and stroke his neck. Hooves beat into the earth behind us, and I know without looking that it’s Calvin. I expected him to follow me, still scared that big, bad Samson will hurt me.

  I wait for him to join us. It doesn’t take long. Spark is breathing heavily, and Calvin’s gaze searches my body frantically.

  “Took you long enough,” I say, and he relaxes.

  “Well, you had a head start.”

  I laugh. It feels good to laugh again. I wasn’t sure that I would ever want to again. Alabama has been good to me, healing.

  “What were you thinking, racing off on that beast? He could have killed you.”

  I spin Samson around to face Cal. He’s now beside Spark, and other than a quick sniff of the snout, he doesn’t show a care in the world. Calvin tenses, waiting for the horse to attack, but he doesn’t know Samson the way I do.

  “Samson isn’t going to hurt me. He trusts me.”

  “You don’t know that.”

  “Yes I do. We’ve worked together a lot since I rescued him. He can be scary, but we're working on that, aren’t we, Sammy?”

  “Rescued him? You’re his owner? Beau told me it was some chick out west, but I never . . . rescued him from what?”

  “We think he was abused when he wouldn’t cooperate. By some hotshot man with a complex. He wanted a trophy horse and knew next to nothing about how to care for a fish, much less a horse. He’s terrified of men, but he’s working on overcoming his fears. That’s why Beau had him here. I needed someone I could trust to work with him.”

  “Beau doesn’t work with the horses. He’s the cattle man.”

  “I know.” I wait for that to sink in for him. I knew Beau wouldn’t have much time with Samson. He told me that himself the times he visited Arizona, but Calvin would, and there was no one I trusted more with him.

  Even twenty years ago, as a child of ten or eleven, Calvin had been a horse person. I grew up watching him work with them, ride them, and care for them. He has always had a gentle heart and a caring soul. Samson was in good hands.

  “I had no idea.”

  “You’ve done a good job.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me he was yours? I’ve been losing my mind every time you step next to him.”

  “Honestly, I was afraid you would turn him away.”

  He doesn’t reply. I think we both know that before I came back, that is exactly what Calvin would have done. He didn’t want anything to do with me or anything that was a part of me. All those years ago, I didn’t think of what it would do to Cal for me to leave. We grew up together, best friends since kindergarten, maybe even earlier. Cal’s mom had been best friends with my mom.

  We spent entire summers together, swimming in creeks, riding horses, and chasing cows. It wasn’t until high school that things changed, the way they usually do. We went from best friends to lovers overnight. I never hid my dreams from Cal. He knew I wanted out. I wanted as far from this town as my car would carry me. The last night of my seventeenth year, just before the strike of midnight, Cal helped load my Toyota down, and when the hour changed, I left and never looked back.

  Anytime I thought of Cal, it brought up memories of my mother, and I didn’t want to think of her. I didn’t want to remember the pain that came with losing her.

  “What are you thinking about?” Cal asks.

  “My mom. Would you believe I can’t even remember the last time I thought of her? It’s like I blocked her out altogether. Ran as far away from her memory as I could.”

  “You needed the time away. Losing her took something from you.”

  “Yeah. It did.”

  “How’s your mom?” I ask.

  “She’s good. Been wondering when you would be stopping by.”

  “We should do that soon, but first, race you back to the barn,” I say, tapping Samson in the side. He takes off like a rocket, flying along the path until we need to descend. I let him find his own pace, trusting him to get us down safely. Calvin is right on our tail. He’s never been one for losing.

  When we reach the bottom, I urge Samson faster, pulling ahead. I round the bend and see the barn come into view, but something else has me pulling hard on the reins.

  Sitting in front of the barn doors is a Red Camaro.

  Calvin races around the bend and almost rides straight into us, but he manages to stop in time.

  “What is it?” he asks, following my line of sight. I turn to him, my eyes frantic.

  “It’s Brad.”

  I barely get the words out before he takes off, heading straight for the barn.

  “Shit. Shit. Shit. Come on, Sammy, let’s go.” I’m not worried about seeing Brad. I couldn't care less about that, but I am worried about how Cal is going to react to his being here, and if his taking off is any indicator, we are in for a day from hell.

  I jump off Sam’s back before we’re even fully stopped and loop the reins across the hitch. Calvin is a few feet from Brad, fists clenching.

  “Calvin, stop. Let me handle this.”

  To my surprise, he
stops, turns to me, and then changes direction, storming across the yard to Beau’s. I can’t begin to describe the look in his eyes, but my stomach drops regardless. I’ll hear all about it later.

  Brad is leaning against the driver’s door. He’s dressed in slacks and a white button-down, with the sleeves rolled up his forearms. He’s every bit the attractive specimen he was when we first started seeing each other, and yet, I feel nothing for him now. No butterflies in my stomach, no anger at his cheating ass. Nothing.

  “Friend of yours?”

  “What the hell do you want, Brad?”

  “No hello? How are you? Did this place suck all the manners out of you?”

  “Nope. I just don’t have the time to waste on you. Now what the hell do you want?”

  “I miss you.”

  “I’m sorry. That must be hard. Maybe Cindy can help.”

  “I’m done with Cindy. It was a mistake. I missed you so much, and you were always busy with the company. You never had time for me.” That stings, mostly because I said the same thing to myself when I first caught him, trying to justify his actions.

  “So, let me get this straight. You miss me so you sleep with my best friend? How does that make sense to you?”

  “I fucked up, Blake. I know I fucked up. There is no excuse for it. I know that. But I don’t want to lose you over one mistake.”

  “I . . . I don’t know what to say, Brad. I made my decision when I left.”

  “But you can change your mind. Don’t throw away almost four years, Blake, please. Just think about it. I’ll be in town for as long as it takes. I don’t want to lose you.”