Lost Rider

  The color is high on her cheeks and I can't tell if it's from anger, embarrassment, or maybe--hopefully--some arousal. I just know that being around her makes me feel alive for the first time since being forced off the circuit. I don't feel like there is some big unknown missing in my life. That missing piece I've been searching for since I was old enough to start putting it all together.

  The same piece I've felt was missing since the day I hightailed it out of here. I assumed that it was something I would find out on the road. I think deep down I always knew that missing piece was hiding in the one place I was so fucking determined never to go back to.

  So no, I didn't just want to clear the air between us, but I needed it with a fierceness that I still don't completely understand.

  I'm finally able to calm my racing thoughts and focus back on her. She's standing there, her arms loose at her sides, shock holding her features hostage. I probably look like I'm as insane as old man Croyers, and that's saying a lot, since he talks to trees and drags around his rocking chair on a leash.

  "We need to talk, darlin'. It's time." She shakes her head, but doesn't retreat when I move toward her. "I've got a lot I need to say, and if you don't want to talk, fine . . . but it needs to be said, Leigh."

  "You aren't leavin', are you?"

  I shake my head.

  She takes a deep breath before giving me a small shake of her head. Resignation clear on her face. "Do you want some coffee?"

  "Yeah, darlin', make it strong."

  Silently, she turns and walks through the kitchen door and into the main room of her bakery. I follow. She lifts a finger and points to the table in the back corner before walking to the front windows. She takes a second to look into the streets and at the townsfolk that are milling around before she pulls down the shades. I'm sure that she has them there to block the sun during the day, but they effectively block the view into the bakery from anyone that is out on Main Street tonight. I could have told her it was pointless. Gossip started burning like wildfire the second I parked my truck next to her Jeep and walked inside. This town, it misses nothing, and they've been waiting to see what would happen next after that kiss.

  I watch her as she moves back behind the counter and preps the coffeemaker. It takes effort, but I pull my eyes from her ass and look around the room.

  I hate that I wasn't here to see her become the woman that she is today. It's clear in every inch of space in here that she built her bakery with pride and love. I knew from Clay that she was doing well, but judging by this place that's a big understatement.

  "Here. Black." She thumps the full mug down; hard enough to make a loud bang against the table, but with enough care that not one drop escapes the top. She's still pissed and isn't afraid to let me know it.

  I lift the purple mug and place it to my mouth, breathing in the strong brew before taking a sip. The burn down my throat is welcome as I get my thoughts together. She sits down on the opposite side and places her hands around a mug of her own.

  I take another sip before placing mine down and clearing my throat.

  "I'm sorry."

  She jerks slightly and narrows her eyes.

  "There's a lot of shit I've done in my life that I regret, Leigh, but I never let myself dwell on it because, at the time, I knew it was necessary in order to get what I want. To get where I wanted to go. To get out." I look down at my mug, composing my thoughts before giving her the rest. Knowing that the rest is one of the most important things I could say tonight. "I noticed you. You were wrong--God, so wrong. I've always seen you, Leighton. Standing there, that night, and letting you think that I didn't see you as the beautiful girl you were back then was one of the hardest things I've ever done. It fuckin' killed me, but I knew it had to be done because if I hadn't made sure you hated me in that moment, I wouldn't have left, and darlin', I had to leave. I wouldn't have survived under his iron fist. So I made sure that I crushed the one person I knew deep down in my bones had the power to keep me grounded in Pine Oak until the day I took my last breath. And darlin', that last breath would have come a lot quicker if I wouldn't have left when I did."

  There's a red-hot flash of anger before she lets a frustrated bark of disbelief out. She opens her mouth, only to snap it shut again. She's always been so expressive that it's clear to see a war is raging between fury and hurt right now. I watch her struggle, her eyes showing me what her mouth can't vocalize--which side of her war won--as they wet with emotion. She blinks back her tears, not allowing a single one free, as she bites down hard on her lip. I hate knowing that I'm hurting her right now, but I need her to hear this. My chest already feeling lighter from just the little I've said. I might be a fucking mess in my head right now, but feeling the stranglehold on my chest lighten after a decade of guilt and regret is well overdue.

  "I was so focused on gettin' out of here that I never imagined that there could have been another way. A way to chase my dreams and not hurt you, but back then all I could see was a young girl with a family that loved her and a future that you had to realize on your own. I saw a sixteen-year-old girl unaware of the power she held and fuck if it didn't terrify me. I took the coward's way out and hurt you before I would allow myself to be vulnerable enough for you to hurt me. I struck knowing that I would be able to leave with no ties other than Clay and Quinn and even they understood why I was runnin', so those ties weren't tied tight. They lived that hell with me. So while I might have gotten what I was chasing, I accomplished it all alone because I pushed everyone away."

  "Why the hell are you telling me this? What does it change, Maverick? Not one damn thing!" she yells, a burst of resentment that lasts only a second before my words sink deep. Her hand on her chest as she still struggles to hold her emotions in check, her anger starting to replace the sadness.

  "Because in order to explain the shit swirlin' inside of me, I have to start at the beginnin', and darlin', that's you."

  "I don't understand. I thought we were going to talk about . . . well, that night?"

  "We will," I vow.

  "Maybe we should just skip the past and focus on that then. I'm not sure what you're hoping to accomplish by letting this all out now, but you made your choice when you left, Mav, and I'm not sure if it's best to go back down that road again. No, actually, I know it isn't."

  I laugh, the sound just as foreign to me as it was earlier in the kitchen. "I need to get it all out, Leighton, and honey, you need to hear it. After that, where we go from here is up to you."

  "Where we go?"

  "That's what I said," I respond, picking up the mug and taking another deep swallow.

  "I think the only place we're goin' is home after this talk."

  "Then I guess it will be up to you if we are goin' to end up in the same house or go separate ways, but you'll make that call with all the information."

  Leighton wrinkles her nose like she's smelled something unpleasant. "I don't like this."

  I smile, a small one, but genuine all the same. "Yeah, darlin', and neither do I, but like I said, it's time."

  She drops her hand from her chest, takes a calming breath, and picks up her mug to take her first sip since sitting down.

  I plunge ahead before she can change her mind.

  "You know, in my head, I planned everything out, but it wasn't until I had been gone about a year or two when I realized how much I fucked up. I climbed the ranks quick. Made a name for myself in that time and knew I was on the right path--but fuck, I was lonely. Don't get me wrong--I didn't have trouble finding temporary ways to try and fill that void, but it always made me feel even more alone--so after a while, that shit stopped too. I haven't been with another woman in damn near five years, Leigh, and even before that it wasn't much. Focused on my trainin' and ridin'. I was so fuckin' alone. On the top of my game, ridin' the beasts that made me feel like a fuckin' god, but even in a sold-out arena, I felt like I was in a room all by myself. I can still remember the exact moment that I stopped lettin' people--anyone
--close to me. Quinn sent me a picture of you two on graduation night, two years after I had left, and it was like a punch to my gut when I looked into your smilin' face. I knew that, while I might have it all, I had nothin' because I didn't get to see that smile every day. I fuckin' missed that smile, Leigh. I felt that emptiness like I had never before that night."

  Her mug hits the table, and dark liquid spills out and over her white-knuckled hand. Leigh mumbles a curse and gropes blindly for a napkin from the dispenser on the table, her gaze trained on me. I keep my eyes on her coffee-drenched fingers before opening my mouth to continue, needing the time to get in control of my emotions.

  "The night Quinn sent me that picture I stayed on the bull for twelve seconds before I let my ropes loose and jumped off, but it was like I had a death wish. I looked that beast in the eye for a whole solid beat of my heart before he started to charge. I didn't even rush to climb out. I took my sweet ass time. By the time my trainer was bendin' over and heavin' me over the top rail by my vest, that pissed-off bull was about to spear me. I didn't care. I felt nothin'. That was the night I told my sister to never send me another picture of you again."

  I clear my throat and finally look up into her eyes. She's so still that I have a feeling she's trying her hardest not to show me what my words have made her feel, but the tears she had been so determined to keep locked away fall freely now, betraying her will to hide from me.

  "I might have been the king of the rodeo after that, but I did it with a dead heart that no one came close to touchin'. Years passed and I didn't feel a thing until Clay called and told me he needed me to come home. The old man was gone and he needed me back here to make some decisions about the ranch. Before I got his call I had spent almost two weeks so drunk I couldn't even tell you what my name was, but that call stopped it all. For the first time in a long damn time I didn't see nothin' but dark emptiness in front of me. I didn't feel the chokin' reminder of regrets unchangeable. It was like a sign that it wasn't too late to fix things. I didn't know what I would be comin' home to, but I knew that I damn sure wouldn't spend another day regrettin' the mistakes of my actions. Not when I have the power to do somethin' about it now. A chance."

  "Mav," she starts before clearing her throat, twisting the dampened napkin in her fingers, "I'm not . . . I don't really know what to say, Maverick."

  "I get that, darlin', I put a lot on you tonight, but you needed to hear it so you understood why I wasn't goin' to allow you to call that night two weeks ago a mistake. I fucked up and I hurt you so I deserve your anger, but I'm not goin' to allow another regret to happen in my lifetime when I can do somethin' to prevent it. I let it all hang out, gave you all the bad and ugly. It's up to you where we go from this point."

  Leigh stares at me for a moment, mouth agape, then sputters, "You're asking me to just make a decision like that based on a fifteen-minute conversation as you give me some Cliff's Notes breakdown on your life for the past decade?"

  Leaning back in my chair, I have to will myself to stay calm even though it's clear by her snippy tone that she's pissed. "Not a Cliff's Notes breakdown, Leighton, and you know it. I'm explainin' things the best way I can."

  "You fuckin' left, Maverick. Clay and Quinn knew why, but even they didn't give me much. There wasn't a day that went by that we didn't feel the void of your absence. You can't just explain that away easily. You admit you hurt me on purpose. Do you even have any idea how bad you hurt me? You can't just decide that now, after ten fuckin' years, that you're willing to . . . to what? To be with me? It's insane!"

  "You don't think I know that?!" I yell. She jumps at my outburst but doesn't speak. "Fuck." I stand, pacing the tight space between tables before looking back over to where she is still sitting, coffee mug still held tightly in her hand. "I'm not hidin' shit from you. I'm tellin' you what I need to for you to understand why I hurt you and why I've regretted that night since. I'll give you the rest, but I can't do that until I understand it myself, and right now I'm strugglin' to just get through this."

  "You're a mess," she tells me in a tone that is strong and true, the vulnerability that she had shown earlier either gone or hidden.

  "Yeah." I laugh without humor. "I'm a fuckin' mess, but I'm workin' on it."

  "That's good, Maverick. I'm glad you're working through it. I hope you find the peace you need," she tells him sincerely.

  I shake my head. After everything I put her through and she still gives me that. "Another day, darlin'. Let's leave that for another day. I've got my own shit to work on, but I need to fix things between my family too."

  She nods, a sad smile playing across her lips. "They missed you."

  I swallow through the lump clawing up my throat. "Yeah." What I wouldn't give for her to admit that she's missed me too.

  "I need to clean this up," she says to the table, and I know she's looking for a way out. Doesn't take a genius to tell she's trying to get out before I see the emotions she's working so fucking hard to hide from me.

  I push back from the table, and her eyes tilt up to meet mine. "Two weeks ago I rolled into town unsure of what I would find and at the end of that night I realized that when I ran from this town to escape the hell I had been livin', I lost the only slice of heaven I've ever felt. I felt it again that night, Leigh, and I'm tellin' you right now, I'm not givin' that feelin' up without a fight. You need to process all this shit I've put on your lap tonight, but you also need to realize that I'm here now. Settled in for the long run, and it's gonna last a lot longer than eight seconds. You better believe I'm ridin' this out with you until you buck me off. And darlin', there hasn't been a ride I've ever been more prepared for."

  I bend, press my lips against her shocked and slack mouth before dropping my lucky hat on her head and walking through the doorway to the kitchen and out to my truck. As much as I would love to end this night with her in my arms, I know the best thing I can do is leave and let her do what she needs to do. Quinn was right earlier today when she said Leigh doesn't make a move without analyzing every angle; that's something that has never changed. I've given her all the facts she needs and now the ball is in her court.

  I was halfway back to the ranch, smile still on my face and my mind feeling a whole hell of a lot lighter than it was earlier. I might be off the circuit, but I'm gearing up for the ride of my life.

  13

  LEIGHTON

  "What Hurts the Most" by Rascal Flatts

  That didn't just happen.

  Nope.

  That definitely didn't happen.

  I lift my hand, hitting the heavy felted brim of the hat on my head. With shaking fingers, I grasp the crown of the hat to pull it off my head. My free hand trembles as I rub the edges of the brim. I don't know how I know, but I have no doubt that this hat is special to him. It's so well worn that even an idiot could tell it's got a long life behind it. I place it down on the table behind me, before standing from my seat.

  I hadn't moved for so long after I heard his truck fire up that my back instantly protests and my feet scream after finally getting comfortable after a long day. I make quick work of cleaning up our coffee mugs and the rest of my mess, wiping down the table before throwing the rag in the basketful of used linens I had ready to take home and launder before Monday. Ignoring the emotions raging through my body. So much conflict. Sadness, regret, and a whole lot of deep-seated anger. All of them swirling around, making it impossible for me to tell which one is strongest.

  I can't even think about what Maverick said tonight; instead I keep my mind focused on closing everything out properly, checking that the front door is still locked before grabbing the till out of the register. I had planned on working through the books and readying a deposit for Monday morning before I opened up, but after Maverick's appearance and talk, my mind is not capable of handling anything more than the drive home. I lock the till up in the safe in my office with a sigh, knowing that this means I'll have to come in and handle it tomorrow while we're closed or it will
just mean more work on Monday.

  With my purse over my shoulder, I take one more pass around the kitchen to make sure all the fridges are shut tight and the ovens are off, and grab the laundry basket from the doorway between the kitchen and the main room. My eyes go directly for the lonely cowboy hat, still resting against the table where I left it.

  I should leave it. I should just walk out the doorway and pretend that I didn't know it was there and let Jana deal with it Monday when she opens. Instead, my feet carry me to the table, and my hand wraps around the crown before I place it with reverence onto the top of my head instead of on top of the soiled laundry inside the basket.

  I shouldn't care about getting it dirty, but damn if I don't.

  Juggling the basket, I walk out the back door before locking it and head to my Jeep, refusing to acknowledge the warm feeling traveling down my body from where the hat rests. I can smell him, just as strong as if he were right before me. Having a piece of him near me does nothing but amp up the very big part of me that wishes I had all of him.

  Damn, I'm really in big trouble.

  "What are you doing?"

  I jump, the rocking chair I had been sitting in jolting under my sudden movement. I have to squint my eyes to see through the darkness that I just realized had settled around me. When I sat down earlier I had been so upset and confused over what Maverick's talk had made me feel. I couldn't understand why, even through the anger I felt, all I wanted to do was rush to him and force him to make sense of it all.

  With his hands. And his mouth. And other things.

  "God, Q! You scared the shit out of me." I wheeze, clutching my chest.

  "I reckoned as much, since you almost took the chair down jumping like a baby."

  Still breathing deeply, my heart rate racing wildly, I reach up and give her my middle finger.

  "Yeah, yeah . . . I get that enough from the guys at the shop. You're gonna have to try harder if you really want me to feel like you really mean it."

  "What are you doing lurking in the shadows, anyway? Did you walk over here?"