CHAPTER SIXTEEN
When Jake awoke, there was a bird chirping on his windshield.
Then he sat up, embarrassed. Worried that someone might have been watching him. Jesus, had he actually fallen asleep in his car? What time was it? He passed a thumb over his smartphone. 6:08 a.m. All he’d done was close his eyes for a minute.
He remembered Maggie.
Jake scrubbed his face with his hands. No, no, no. This was crazy.
His jeans were covered in dirt. He didn’t know where his shirt was. And his arms ached from swinging that damned ax over and over again, harder and harder.
Jake Sutton didn’t live like this. Jake Sutton had an airplane and a penthouse and more money than God. Right now, he felt like a homeless man after a long night at the bus station.
He started the car. Driving around might clear his head. Cuervo was just beginning to stir. Any other morning all the lights flicking on might have seemed cozy and inviting, but now they just reminded him he was miles away from home and needed a shower and about a gallon of coffee.
Returning to the ranch was out of the question. Mason was probably still there, and Jake wasn’t ready to be around people. He had to get his shit together first. Find a way to get back on top again. Whatever it took.
Ten minutes later, he spotted the only building off the main road, some no-tell motel called the Cattle Rancher. It was likely his best chance for a shower.
He went inside, ignoring the raised eyebrows of the woman behind the reception desk. Then he took the key card she gave him and went upstairs to his room. The door gave a sharp satisfying click when it closed behind him.
The place was pretty much what he expected—a dingy industrial carpet that hid a thousand sins. Glasses with the paper courtesy lids on them. An ancient, rabbit-eared television. He avoided the bed and went straight for the shower.
But flashes of Maggie kept coming at him. He tried thinking of other things, things he needed to do today. His mind wouldn’t obey. He saw her standing in front of him with that haunted look in her eyes. The one he’d put there. The one that proved he had no business dating a woman who didn’t have the words Ask Me About My Rates in big neon letters over her head.
He got out of the shower, tied a towel around his waist and sat on the edge of the bed to check his messages. There were the usual ones from Emma reminding him about upcoming meetings and the packet of papers she’d overnighted. But there was also a text message from a number he didn’t recognize.
Mom in hospice. Uncle Marty and Aunt Pearl really want you to come.
His brother.
Emma must have given Dillon his private number.
Jake crushed his hand around the cell phone and squeezed.
More memories came flooding back. He couldn’t stop them now.
Before the booze and the boyfriends, Loretta used to show him how to roll Silly Putty over the comics section of the newspaper. The whole comic would be printed there, and at age four, he’d thought it was magic. Sometimes she’d make macaroni-and-cheese from scratch instead of the box stuff, all cheesy and delicious with a layer of potato chips baked into the crust. Then they’d watch TV until it was time to put Dillon to bed. As the older brother, Jake loved being the kid who got to stay up late. But he’d felt protective of Dillon even then, even before taking care of his brother had been a necessity and not a choice. Their dad wasn’t around much. When he was, the good-looking son-of-a-bitch had a vicious temper. But Loretta had loved him. After he split, she had nothing left for anyone else.
No matter how hard he’d tried, Jake couldn’t fix it. He wasn’t enough. Not for Loretta. Not for anybody. Every day since then he’d had to remind himself that love just let you down in the end. It didn’t last—not between a man and a woman and not between a parent and a child.
Jake glanced up and saw his reflection in the mirror above the dresser. He looked awful. There were circles under his eyes. Beard growth darkened the lower half of his face.
He rubbed the back of his neck, which was sweating. God, he didn’t want to feel this way. Helpless. Hopeless. Angry.
His phone rang. Warily, he looked at the number. It was Mason. Anything was better than thinking about this shit, even talking to Mason. He swiped the green button. “What?”
“You sound like you’re still in a great mood,” Mason said.
“I’m busy.”
“Busy fucking up your life maybe.”
Jake froze. It sounded eerily similar to something his mom would say. He resisted the urge to hang up.
“Nice going last night,” Mason said, colder than Jake had ever heard him. “And now you’ve got Cassidy worried about her sister. What the hell is going on with you?”
“Nothing. You know how I am. If I don’t like being somewhere, I bail.”
“Yeah, except the one you’re bailing on is my sister-in-law,” Mason said. “And I told you not to fucking do that.”
If Jake hadn’t been so underfed, under-dressed and under-slept, he might have found the conversation amusing. He’d always had the upper hand over Mason—probably because, unlike Mason, he didn’t actually have a heart to get in the way of being top dog. Despite Loretta’s beatings and verbal abuse, Jake had been top dog growing up, too. He’d been the strong one, the one who survived, who refused to live in filth, addiction, squalor.
Now he just felt like a dog, period. How the fuck had he let this happen? Now everyone was furious with him. He wasn’t used to that.
“Are you listening?” Mason asked him.
Jake’s shoulders slumped. “Yeah, I’m listening.”
“Just so we’re clear,” Mason said, lowering his voice. “You and me, we’ve had some great times. You’re a damn good friend. But Maggie is family. And if you make it so I have to choose, you’re the one I’m saying good-bye to.”
* * * *
Maggie set little Abigail on the picnic table in front of her, captured her pudgy hands and played patty-cake with them. Abigail watched with the bemused fascination of a baby who wasn’t sure those hands were hers yet. She gave a squeal of delight that would have warmed Maggie’s heart if there’d been anything left to warm.
They were at the municipal park with Todd and Sawyer and Todd’s nephew, Kenny, a little tow-headed kid around Sawyer’s age. Todd and the boys were throwing a football she’d given them. Remnants of the fire engine birthday cake she’d baked sat at the other end of the table along with a few opened presents.
Sawyer was actually smiling. Had she ever seen him smile? Maggie’s own enjoyment had been put on a dimmer switch and turned to low. But she was determined not to spoil Sawyer’s birthday party, even though it felt as though someone had ripped her heart out.
There were no messages from Jake. Her sister would have called if she knew anything. The thought of never seeing Jake again—or worse, seeing him at social functions but pretending they were only casual acquaintances—made her sick to her stomach.
“You two girls look mighty pretty over there,” Todd called to her. “Abby’s taken a real shine to you. All she does is holler when Ma comes around.”
I’d holler, too, if I had to spend time with that witch. Maggie clapped Abigail’s adorable little hands together while Abigail gave a deep belly laugh. She was the prettiest baby, with her thoughtful dark eyes, long lashes and red-gold curls. She looked a lot like Avery, actually. Avery who was missing her son’s birthday. Who made even a lightweight like Todd look like a decent parent. Who didn’t want kids, got pregnant at the drop of a hat and then abandoned them.
Todd lobbed the ball to Kenny, who ran to catch it. “You don’t seem like you’re in the best of spirits today,” he said to her, coming over.
Maggie tacked on a smile. “Life of a baker—up at dawn, and then you spend the rest of the day trying to balance your coffee intake.”
Todd slid across the picnic bench opposite her. He watched Abigail gurgle while Maggie clapped her hands.
“Thanks for coming to Sawyer’s birthday,” he said. “You’re a damned good woman to take such an interest.”
Not woman enough to have children, she thought. Or to not scare off the one man I have feelings for.
Abigail managed to clap without Maggie’s help, which made her crow with delight.
Todd took his hat off, set it on the table and then ran his fingers through his hair.
“I heard a rumor,” he said.
“What rumor?”
“I heard you was datin’ that fella from up north. The one I met at the Regal.”
She flinched. As a wound, it hadn’t even had time to scab over yet. Now Todd wanted to go digging around in it? “People love to run their mouths in Cuervo, don’t they?”
“Is it true?” he asked. “’Cause I’d hate to think of you getting caught up with someone like him, Mags. Ain’t he that rich sombitch who owns a bunch of buildings and newspapers and shit?”
“Jake owns a lot of things,” she murmured.
“C’mon now. You know better. You got no business gettin’ with a fat cat like that, baby girl.”
His use of the old endearment brought back memories. Just a few. But only because everything inside her was already a raw pulpy mess.
“Is that any of your business?” she said.
“Rich folks ain’t like us, sugar. That Jake fella…he ain’t gonna stay. He ain’t the stayin’ kind. You deserve a hell of a lot better.”
“Oh, so you mean better than a cheating husband and a lousy ex-friend?”
Todd didn’t bat an eye. She’d always admired that about him, in a way. When he screwed up, which was often, he owned it. No excuses.
“You deserve way better than any one of us, me, Jake or Avery. That’s what I’m tryin’ to tell you. Look, you got a real way about you, Maggie. I can see why that rich fucker wants a sweet piece like you. But you need a man who’s gonna take care of you.”
She gave Abigail the teething ring and brushed her finger against her soft pink cheek, struck once again by the cruel irony of this not being her baby. Hers and Todd’s.
Looking across the table at Todd kept bringing back so many bittersweet memories. Maggie felt as though she were reliving them all at once. She’d met Todd the night of her eighteenth birthday. He’d come into town with the rodeo, tall and handsome and sweet-talking. All the girls were crazy about him.
The minute Maggie laid eyes on him, something told her they were destined to be together. She sought him out even before the bronc busting event was finished. From that night on, she gave him all the passion of a girl experiencing her first love.
Three years after that they were married. And now, practically a decade since they’d met, he was sitting in front of her giving “advice” about her love life.
Love was supposed to be forever. It was supposed to be the one constant in your life that never budged. Just like with bronc busting, Todd held on only as long as he needed in order to win. After the round was over, Todd was over, too. If Jake ever decided he was in, Maggie sensed that wild horses couldn’t drag him away. He might be slower to commit, but Jake’s commitment would mean something. Not that she would ever have a chance of knowing that now.
“I’m sorry, Todd, but we’re not friends,” she said. “Not the kind of friends who can give each other advice.”
A dark shadow moved across his face. “It’s worse than I thought then. This Jake’s really got his spurs dug in.”
“It’s not Jake.” She stood and handed him Abigail. “It’s not even what you did. It’s just the way things are now.”
Todd stood, with the baby in his arms. He wore the dashed expression of a man who’d come off a long hard trail ride hoping to find a home cooked meal and a friendly smile waiting for him. “I know you’ve still got feelings for me, same as I have for you. If that sombitch was out of the picture—”
“It wouldn’t change anything.” Maggie shouldered her purse and picked up her sandals. “I love your kids. But I’ll never love you again. That place inside me that used to have you in it? Nothing’s ever going to grow there again.”
* * * *
Jake was miserable. There was no getting around it.
His mom was right. He was no fucking good. He would have ruined Maggie’s life and let her down. He’d already let Mason down. There was no point in starting a relationship, no point in pretending he was worth loving.
It was probably why he was so short-tempered, impatient—an asshole to pretty much everyone, including the old lady who’d been sweet enough to let him come inside the drug store without a shirt on. He took a bag of three cotton tees, slapped them on the counter, and then scowled at her for trying to make idle conversation.
Real dick move.
He felt as though he were bleeding inside. As though he were drowning and Maggie was the only one who could bring him back to shore. Wasn’t liking someone supposed to make you feel better, not worse? Didn’t having billions of dollars save you from having to drive around looking for a goddamn T-shirt and breakfast?
Who he was, everything he stood for, had been stripped away from him here in Cuervo. Maybe Carmen was right about small towns. Every reason you left was the same fucking reason you came back again—so it could kick your ass twice.
He was in such a black mood, all the workmen at the Regal avoided him, even Pete. Eventually, Jake just hid in his car, making phone calls, doing business. He finalized a hotel deal in Paris that any other time might have cheered him. Today, nothing kept his mind from wandering back to Maggie or what he’d said to her last night.
How could a person feel this awful and not die from it? How did a person continue functioning when his mother was in hospice and his best buddy wasn’t talking to him and the whole world had come crashing down around his feet?
Every breath he took out here smelled like Maggie’s bakery, which reminded him of her. Fucking torture was what it was. He could even see the side of her building from here. Know what else is sad? I was falling in love with you, she’d told him last night.
No, this was too much. He had to find somewhere to work that wasn’t here. Jake started the car and drove around looking for anywhere that didn’t remind him of Maggie. If he were smart, he’d just get the hell out of Cuervo for a day or two. Come back when he had his head on straight again.
Screw this.
Jake grabbed his phone and sent the bat signal for Liam to fly down in the helicopter and pick him up. Hell, he could be in Dallas by dinnertime. Catch a workout, maybe go for a swim. Carmen said she had more drawings for the techpark. He could send her a message, too, let her know he was coming.
Jake was so wrapped up in thought he almost didn’t see Maggie sitting in the park with her cheating bastard of an ex-husband and the baby. Every muscle in Jake’s body went rigid. What was she even doing there with that asshole?
Before he could stop himself, Jake pulled over and angled the car behind a tree.
Boy, Maggie hadn’t waited long, had she? One bad night and she was off and running.
He cut the engine and just sat there. His heart scrabbled like a wild animal caught inside his chest, all teeth and claws.
If he didn’t care about her, why did he feel like this?
The word love floated through the back of his mind. He physically recoiled. Love was a trap. A lie. Love was the ultimate delusion. It kept you from thinking right. It was the opposite of rational.
He wasn’t in love with Maggie. He was just tired and needing a few nights in his own bed. This awful thing with his mother, his brother, with Mason, had thrown him off his game.
Jake started the car and drove off, leaving Maggie with her fake ass cowboy. He would prove he didn’t need her. He would prove he didn’t need anybody.
Starting now.