Heart & Hope (Rosewood Ranch #2)

Chapter 12

Chapter Twelve

RUBY

“ B ut you already have a job, and in the city.” Reed’s face turns from surprise to concern.

“Yes, but I work remotely for most of the events I run. And I can do that for you, also. It won’t be a problem.” His wide eyes are stuck on me. A combination of desperation and excitement wrestle in their green tones. And my stomach is a bundle of knots.

“Harry isn’t goin’ to be happy with this,” Reed says to his ma.

“You let me handle your father. And you adjust your plans and projections to include events. Aim for two to four each month. They will give you the extra cash you need to develop the property, add cabins for guests, convert that largest barn to be your big celebration or wedding reception space, and all that without the residual debt after twelve months.” She rests a palm on Reed’s cheek.

God, I love this woman.

Fire and love all rolled into one amazing soul who would do anything for her children. The flame she continuously stokes for her family.

The pang of grief over my own distant parents and a sliver of jealousy hit me. Forcing air into my lungs, I purse my lips and will the burn behind my eyes to take a hike.

My phone pings.

Addy.

Ready for our girls night?

So ready! I’m out at the ranch, but I can be in town in forty with change. Can’t wait.

Rosewood or Reed’s?

Rosewood, talking to Harry and Lou with Reedsy.

Huh, okay I want to hear all about that tonight!

When I click the screen off, Reed, Mack, and Louisa are staring at me, eyebrows raised. What, did I pull a face or something?

“Sorry, just Adds organising girls night tonight,” I offer.

“What time do you need to be in town?” Mack asks.

“Back by dark, I was hoping.”

“I can give you a lift, if you like,” Mack says, glance swinging between Reed and me.

“Sure, that sounds awesome. I’ll grab my things.”

“No rush, we can leave in like”—he glances at the bulky black watch on his wrist—“say, thirty?”

“Okay, thanks.”

When Reed meets his brother’s gaze, Mack dips his hat toward me and walks back across the yard.

“Well, that’s my cue, too,” Louisa says, wrapping me in a one-armed hug before wandering after her son.

“Subtle, your lot.”

Reed pulls me into his arms, his hand running over my hair. “You don’t have to do this. You have too much on your plate already.”

I slide a hand onto his shirt and look up at him. I like his arms around me. It feels good. Right. Like someplace warm and sturdy.

“I want to. Besides, what are friends for, Reedsy? If I didn’t help, when I am the best event planner you know, that would be unforgivable.”

He chuckles, bending down so his mouth brushes my hair by my ear. “You’re the only event planner I know, baby.”

“That too,” I whisper.

Air rushes in and out of my lungs like it’s pulled by hurricane winds. I want to run my hand up his chest, let it wander over his throat and his Adam’s apple that bobs as he swallows. His eyes drop to my mouth.

When he moves, still only inches from me, it takes everything I have to not cup his face and draw his mouth down to mine.

Friends.

We should stay friends.

Rule number one.

Rule num?—

Reed smashes his mouth to my lips, and his hands are in my hair a heartbeat later. The air in my lungs disappears entirely. My body floods with electricity, the zing palpable where his fingertips meet my skin as they run down my neck and back up to hold my face.

I open for him, and his tongue sweeps in, claiming every part I offer up. Desperate to be closer, I press against his taut frame.

He breaks away.

“Shit, fuck. I’m sorry, Rubes.”

His hands are in his hair, running through it as he walks a tight circle by the trunk of the tree. The willow shrouds us in its dangling, enclosed green canopy still. I stand rooted to the spot, arms by my sides, air churning in my lungs.

And I am definitely not sorry. I don’t really know what I am, to be honest. But it’s not sorry.

For some reason, whenever I’m around Reed, I feel things I don’t usually. I haven’t.

God, no one has ever wanted me that much.

Ever.

“Reed,” I breathe.

“I know. I shouldn’t have done that.” He waves a hand toward me.

And when he leans against the tree, dark, fire-laced eyes burn into mine. After a heartbeat, he drags his hands down his face, the way he always does when he’s frustrated and doesn’t think anyone is watching.

I close the space between us. “It’s fine. It can be whatever you want it to be. But I’m not sorry you kissed me. That we kissed.”

“Yeah?”

“Uh-huh.”

Now, his shoulders move in even deeper cycles, and his mouth parts. “Can I do it again?”

The smile that stretches my face is possibly the biggest one I’ve ever had. “Do you want to?”

This time when I rest my palm on his shirt, his heart slams against my skin. It mirrors my own, and I huff out a faint laugh. The heat that was racing through my veins just sank deep in my belly.

And Reed Rawlins doesn’t feel like my friend. Not anymore.

He moves past me and sits on the bench seat by the table, dropping his head onto the wood with a thud. I sit quietly beside him. “What are you thinking?”

“Hold up. I’m goin’ to have to wait for the blood to return to my brain to do any kinda thinkin’,” he drawls.

I laugh, throwing my head back. The sound rattles up through me as warmth floods in. God, I will miss this man.

He has earned a solid place in my frosty, somewhat vacant heart. And it’s almost like I feel it stretch. Fine hairline cracks split their way through the concrete that makes up my heart. The one full of rules and habits protecting me from the things I fear most. Being redundant. Being dependent. Being a burden. Being distracted and failing.

So many things to fear when you’re missing an essential tier on the Maslow hierarchy of needs. Specifically number three, belonging and love. My family is successful. They are driven. They are also completely emotionally unavailable.

There is no warmth in the Robbins household. Only trophies, achievements, designer clothes, luxury cars, impressive bank accounts, and a whole lot of meaningless small talk.

Reed clears his throat, pulling me back to the here and now. He studies my face, and I try to put the words together. To tell him that we can’t do this. That there’s no point because one, I don’t date, and two, I’m leaving.

But I can’t.

For the first time in my life, I’m resenting my rules.

Maybe it’s the place. Or maybe it’s the man in front of me. But my rules seem utterly insignificant.

“I can see the cogs spinning, baby.” Reed tilts his head.

“What?” I laugh.

“You’re thinkin’. Now I’m worried.”

My smile fades, and I sigh. “I should go.”

Reed nods, swallowing as he rises to his feet. He extends his hand, and when I take it and push to my feet, he crooks his arm. Because he’s Reed and I’m me. It’s our thing.

I tangle my arm through his and lean into his side. “I’m going to miss you, you know.”

But he doesn’t respond. His Adam’s apple works as he homes his gaze ahead to where Mack’s truck waits by the white gate at the homestead yard. The passenger door is open, and Mack sits in the driver’s seat, looking at something on his phone.

Reed crowds me by the tray of the truck and brushes my hair behind my ear. “Goodbye, or see you later?”

“See you later,” I breathe.

He plants a kiss on my forehead and bundles me into the truck. My bag and things are already on the seat between us. And when Reed shuts the door and steps back, my chest constricts, sending an ache through me.

“Ready?” Mack asks.

I almost forgot he was here. “Yeah.”

He shifts the stick into drive and waves to Reed as we pull away from the homestead.

“Thanks for helping Reed; he’d appreciate the effort.” Mack meets my gaze as he turns onto the dirt road.

“It’s a smart plan. I can’t wait to see it eventuate.”

Mack smiles with a nod and turns on the radio. Some twangy country song plays over slight static.

“When do you have to go back?” I ask.

His hands reaffirm around the wheel. “Few months.”

My gut sinks. I know Mack leaving for tour is hard for Reed. “How long this time?”

“Should be around six weeks. Be back for the county New Year’s Rodeo, hopefully.”

“That’s still a thing?”

“Of course, you should come...” But his words fade out as he realizes that I won’t be here.

“You live in another world entirely out here. I wish I could stay.”

“If you don’t like the city, you don’t have to be there. At least, from what Ma tells me about your type of work, you can move around.”

“Leaving New York isn’t part of my plan.”

“Never is.”

He’s quiet the rest of the way. I know he’s talking about Addy and Hudson. It worked out for them. Really well.

But I’m not a vet or an animal person. My options would be limited around here, even if I was an honorary member of Louisa’s clan. I focus my attention out the window. Not wanting Mack to see the grief I carry for my lousy family. And the jealousy that flares every time I’m at Rosewood, knowing I will never have what the Rawlins boys have.

Love and belonging.

Real, loving, raw, emotional—and sometimes messy—family.

“Ah, shit!”

The curling iron burns my finger as I tuck it under the last thick strand of blonde.

“You okay?” Addy calls from the bedroom of my tiny motel room. It didn’t make sense to go all the way back to Great Falls when the event is over and they don’t need me back until the opening night.

It’s been so long since we went out together. And I am beyond excited for tonight. I’ve never been around the small-town pub scene. My expectations are pretty low, but still, it’s been an age since I let my hair down.

Makeup—check.

Gucci heels—check.

My favorite sheer black Chanel top and ebony Tommy Hilfiger dress pants—check.

I flip the power switch off and twirl for the mirror. I know it’s kind of silly, but because I never had the chance to show off my outfits for anyone as a little girl, I like to do it for myself.

“Rubes!” Addy calls from downstairs. “Let’s go, cowgirl!”

I chuckle, double-checking my makeup and blotting my lipstick one last time. I glide down the stairs in my favorite red stilettos. The color is a stark contrast to the black pants and sheer top with the shadow of my black Victoria’s secret lingerie underneath. I do love fancy clothes. Always have.

Lewistown is small, and it doesn’t take us long to walk the few blocks to one of the only bars open on a weeknight. My last hoorah before I am expected back in the city. No bouncers or doormen here. Addy pushes through, leading me into a quaint bar.

The inside is well-kept, and the decor screams country town. I kind of like it.

“Booth, table, or bar?” I ask Addy.

She scans the room. I’m sure her idiot old boss sits at the bar with two guys around his age. I steer her to a table toward the back. The last thing we need is company. Both of us have been too busy for each other the past few weeks—hell, the past few months. And I want to talk to her.

“How’s Huddo?” I say, sitting at one side of the table, placing my clutch purse on the polished wood.

She beams at me.

I lean in. “That good, hey?”

“He’s brilliant, as usual. Busy. What have you and Reed been scheming this week? There appears to be a fundamental shift in the Rawlinses’ universe. I take it you have something to do with that?”

She brushes her curly brown hair around one side of her neck. Her yellow blouse brings out her dark eyes. Those eyes have always grounded me. Even when my family was being a pack of insensitive asshats, Addy always had my back. And I hers.

“Well, it may not have occurred to the rest of the Rawlins bunch, but ranching is not something that Reed wants to slave at for his entire life.”

“You make it sound like a bad thing, the life Harry and Louisa have built.”

“It’s not. It’s also not a one-size-fits-all deal. Not everyone is Hudson, Adds.”

“Thank god, imagine the women of the world if there was more than one of him.”

We burst into hysterics. “Hudson Rawlins, limited edition, only ten in the world.” I wave a hand in the air like I’m gesturing to a billboard. “Yes, I can see the chaos that would unfold should that happen, babes.”

Addy recovers and glances to the bar. Her face falls. I take it, she’s seen Cowboy Ken, a.k.a., her old boss and semi-sexual-harassment offender, Justin Morley.

“I got it, Adds. Your usual?”

“Yeah, thanks.”

I weave my way back to the bar, leaning on it with a hip, my back to Morley. Before the next heartbeat, his oily gaze burns into the back of my head. The bartender waltzes over and nods. “What can I fetch you?”

He’s a built guy, sleeves rolled up to showcase his arms. Brown hair gelled, with blue eyes that I’m sure have seen enough of the bad side of humanity in this place.

“Gin and tonic. Lime twist. And your best Merlot, please.”

“Coming up.” He turns his back to me, and a throat clears behind me. I put my clutch on the bar and turn back to find the roving eyes of Justin. They don’t even bother rising to my face as he says, “You’re new. Sweet spikes, baby.”

Hearing the nickname out of his mouth is like swallowing sewage. “Is that so?”

“Yeah, haven’t seen you round here before. In town for long?”

He obviously doesn’t remember me from the inn’s gala. Figures. “Long enough.”

He smiles and anger rises in my core.

“Can I buy you a drink or something?”

It’s now that I notice his words carry the slightest slur. “Oh, sorry, we city girls only fuck the Rawlins brothers.”

His face blanks, and he recoils a little as recognition fades in. His features pinch when he finds Addy sitting at the table, and I close in on my prey. When he turns back, I narrow my eyes and point a finger into his chest, hard. “Stay the fuck away from her. Or I will drive these sweet spikes into your eye socket. Got it?”

“Yup,” he rasps, recoiling into his bar stool.

My drink appears at my side. “Thanks.” I pull my card out of my wallet. The bartender raises a hand. “On the house.” He winks before glaring at Justin.

Is there anyone in Lewistown he hasn’t gotten on the wrong side of?

Drinks in hand, I wander back to the table and place Addy’s glass in front of her.

“Morley wasn’t annoying you, too, was he?”

“Not a bit.” I smile at her, but she gives me the ‘what did you do’ face.

I raise my glass, and she taps hers to mine. “To Adds and Rubes,” she says.

“To Huddo and Reedsy. Our favorite Rawlins brothers.”

“To our favorites.”

Addy takes a long sip. “Okay, spill, Rubes. How the hell have you ruffled Harry Rawlins’s feathers and lived to tell the tale?”

I chuckle at her and turn the glass on the table, rolling the stem between my fingers. The fresh pale pink nail polish I spent a solid twenty minutes on last night reflects the light.

“I gave Reed options. Helped him find one he loved, and we did up a business plan, projections, staggered progress development, and all that. Harry wasn’t impressed he wanted to veer from the traditional ranching route. But Lou loved the idea. I think we’ll have a win. She’s the captain, after all.”

“That she is. Harry always wants what’s best for his family. He probably got caught off guard after handing his son millions in property and putting in months of prep. Then some city girl waltzes in and shows him up. Babes, that will get you shot in these parts.”

She’s joking, I know. But I also know that ranching, this way of life, is cemented in traditions and generational family lines. But it shouldn’t mean Reed has to live a long life doing something to make Harry happy if it makes him miserable.

“I can handle Harry. I grew up with Richard, after all. Plus, it’s a smart option. The best of both worlds. Two, maybe three, income streams instead of one. It’s not personal against Harry. But it’s all I can do to help Reed.”

Addy is quiet, stirring her drink with the short, black straw through the clear liquid, the lime already used and discarded on her napkin. “You sure you and Reed aren’t more than friends?”

My heart beats, loud and heavy. And I can’t take my eyes from hers.

“I mean, I tried leaving, Rubes. It almost killed me.”

“But you and Huddo were . . .”

“And you and Reed aren’t?”

I drop my gaze to my Merlot. We’re not. Well, one real kiss doesn’t say we are. I have rules. I have a plan. A timed trajectory to my own success. Robbinses don’t do distractions.

“We’re not anything, Adds. I can’t.”

“Alright, if that’s what you want. The career. Not that man.”

“You make it sound like I have to choose between one or the other.”

“Don’t you?”

“I—”

I slam my mouth shut.

Rule number fucking one. I don’t date.

Addy slides her hands across the table and plucks the wine from my grip. She encloses my hands with hers. “Babes, I know you work hard. You always have. But please don’t be afraid to be happy. To let someone in. Let someone love you, Ruby Robbins. You deserve that. And so, so much more.”

Tears burn the bridge of my nose, filling the bottom of my eyes. Reed’s words come flooding back in.

I like taking care of you.

The door to the bar swings open, hitting the wall. Two scantily clad women walk in, Americana hanging off every inch of them with boots shining with the flag, daisy dukes, white tops, and red sparkling cowgirl hats. Never in my life have I ever seen anything so ridiculous.

They make a ruckus strutting up to the bar. Oh great, some friends for Justin. I’m sure they’re his type. One chews gum, a brunette. The other flips her red hair, popping a hip and pushing her chest out as she leans on the bar, eyes hunting for the bartender.

“From out of town?” the big guy asks as he polishes a glass before placing in the rack with a dozen others.

“Great Falls. I’m Starr and this is Skye. Mother Nature’s gifts. We’re here to conquer the Great Reed Rawlins,” the brunette says.

I hear Addy swear under her breath behind me. I’m fully turned in my seat, watching this car crash of anti-feministic whore-mongering in action.

“Yeah, he kind of left us hanging the other night. We’re here to collect,” the redhead coos, twirling her hair through her fingers like a fucking child.

I rise from my seat and stride to the bar. The bartender offers me an exasperated smile. “Another?”

“Actually, two glasses of your most expensive red.”

The two women turn toward me, eyes running up and down my clothes. When they reach my heels, Skye’s mouth gapes, eyes contorting with something between disbelief and disgust. “Well, aren’t you fancy.”

I pay her no heed, as the bartender uncorks a new bottle of something deep maroon. The liquid glugs into the glasses, one after the other. When he turns back and sets them down, I grab my purse.

“Fifty-eight,” he says, keeping eye contact.

I tap the card on the machine as he holds it out.

“Fifty-eight for two glasses. That’s some serious gasoline, girl.” Starr snickers.

Now, I turn to them and close the space between me and the two dolled-up patriotic Barbies. “You’re hunting Reed Rawlins?”

“You seen him out tonight?” Skye says, her eyes narrowing as if I’m the fucking competition.

“Answer the question, please.”

“Yeah, we’re hunting him, and whatever else we wanna do with him. He’s more than willing with any girl that shows interest. All’s fair in lovin’ and whatever.”

The anger that flooded my core earlier turns to lava in my veins. “Is that so?”

“You can have him after we do,” Starr says with a wink.

I suck in a breath and briefly close my eyes. How fucking dare they.

I fling the glasses toward them. The wine hits their stupid faces a second later, running down their white tops and soaking into their skimpy threadbare short shorts, everything it douses staining red as I step forward. “You are disgusting.”

“Urgh, you bitch!” Starr shrieks.

“Stop embarrassing yourselves and stay the hell away from Reed.” I step closer, ensuring my heels are clear of the spilled wine as she wipes the red wine from her eyes, and snag her attention. “Understand?”

“Fuck you,” Skye spits as she stands, arms out, wine dripping from her top, streaking its way down her bare legs.

“Little slow on the uptake, I see. That is the last thing you want to do. Have a good night, ladies.”

I stride slowly back to Addy, who is now standing by the table, holding her bag. Yeah, we’re leaving. But, holy fuck, there is no other way that could have gone down. Reed may drown his sorrows in female company. But it will always be his choice. Not some deranged team bully mission. Being hunted like fucking prey.

I push through the doors and suck in the cool night air. Addy bursts out laughing, doubling over as she does. I scoff a laugh at her. When she recovers and wraps an arm around me, she gives me a side look and head tilt.

“Oh, Rubes. You are so gone, girl.”

“I am not!” I let my mouth gape. I can’t stand people with loose morals, let alone straight up loose. If sex isn’t practical, it should be meaningful. Not some conquest, or whatever those two bimbos called it. And the thought of those two anywhere near Reed makes my skin crawl and nausea roil in my belly.

Addy stands in front of me and puts both of her hands on my shoulders. “You know I love you like a sister, right?”

“Yes?”

“Ruby Jane Robbins, you have a thing for Reed Rawlins.”

“No.” I shake my head, but even the gesture is a lie. “I can’t, Adds. I have to go back to the city.”

“You can’t, or you won’t?”

I step backward until the building meets my back. I hang my head and close my eyes.

Breathe in.

I don’t date.

We are just friends.

Rules . . .

Breathe out.

“Let me guess, you’re running through your list of rules right now?” Addy says.

I groan and blow out a breath. “Stop knowing me so well. It’s rude.”

“There are worse things than finding the other half of your soul, babes.”

“Shut up. Now I really do need that expensive wine.”

“Let’s go home and figure this out. We can grab the most extravagant bottle they have at the drive-through on the walk home.”

“Fine.”

Addy crooks her arm and waits by me as I peel myself away from the building. My belly coils with butterflies taking flight. I swear they are on fire, their little wings singeing to ash as they fling around my stomach at the sight of a crooked arm.

Another reminder of what is strung between Reed and me.