“I’m sorry. I... I should’ve said something sooner. Because it isn’t just you—I shut down. You didn’t give me what I wanted, and so I just put my head down and never talked to you.”
“I’m your mother, Callie. You don’t owe me an apology for not being able to figure out how to put up with me. I’m the one that should’ve realized. Should’ve realized that something was just not working in our relationship, and rather than wishing that we could go shopping together, I should’ve sat down with you and talked about horses.”
Callie wiped at a tear on her cheek. “I’ve realized that knowing you and Dad were hurt, were grieving, wasn’t the same as understanding. That I really was only seeing this from my own perspective. And I... You know, being with Jake...being with someone like that, I realized how much I don’t consider other people. I needed to tell you what I wanted. And I shouldn’t have taken a necklace as an insult, when it was a gift. I chose to see everything as an attack and I never chose to see it as a bridge. But I want to...find a bridge. I want to understand, and I want you to understand me.”
“I do, too,” her mom whispered.
“Next year,” Callie said. “Next year, you and I will go shooting. And will make cookies on another day. We’ll do both.”
“Okay,” her mom said.
“I’m not so afraid of trying to do both. I was. I thought doing all those feminine things would just show all the ways that I didn’t quite measure up. And I thought it would distract from what I was trying to accomplish in the rodeo.”
“What changed things?”
Callie shifted uncomfortably, because the honest truth was an embarrassing one.
“Jake,” she whispered. “He makes me realize that I can be more than I thought.”
Her mom’s eyes glistened with tears. “I’m glad. That’s how it should be. That’s how being in love should be.”
The words hit her like an explosion, and she took a step back.
It couldn’t be that. It couldn’t be.
It was just... Friendship. And sex.
“Yeah.”
Her mom reached into the closet one more time and pulled out a white fur wrap, which she placed over her shoulders. “This makes it. Oh, and shoes.”
She grabbed a pair of black high heels and handed them to Callie.
“I don’t know how to walk in these.”
Her mom smiled. “Okay. Compromise.”
She brought a pair of black flats this time, and Callie put them on. She wasn’t going to try to be that daring. Not all at once. The high heels might’ve looked nice, but she would’ve fallen off them in the first couple of minutes.
Her mom led her out of the room, and she walked down the stairs slowly. And as she descended, Jake came into view. He was dressed in all black. Black cowboy hat. Black button-up shirt and black jeans. Black boots. Her heart sped up. She saw that his jaw went tight as he looked at her. And a thrill shot right between her legs. Except there wasn’t supposed to be any of this left between them. Except they weren’t going to do this again.
She got to the bottom step, and he extended his hand. Reflexively, she put hers out, and he took it. Lifted it to his lips and brushed her knuckles with his lips.
Her heart slammed against her chest. His dark eyes made contact with hers, and she forgot to breathe. With the stubble over his jaw, he looked like an outlaw. And she wanted to get on the back of his horse and ride off into the sunset with him. Disreputable as he looked. Disreputable as he was. Jake her lover, and Jake her friend, didn’t seem like the thing she could separate out in that moment. They were all Jake. And he was all beautiful. And she didn’t quite know how to breathe around that.
“You look amazing,” he said.
“So do you.”
If he was lying, maybe he would think she was, too. That she was just playing a part for this. For everything. Maybe he wouldn’t know that she was actually, completely, struck dumb by his beauty. Yeah, beauty. Masculine though it was.
“You can follow us out to the restaurant,” her dad said. “We’ll have to make a convoy. There’s too many of us.”
Everyone was dressed up, but she couldn’t see anyone but Jake. And as they filed out into the pickup trucks, she knew a slight moment of fear when the door closed and left the two of them alone. Because whereas that night when they’d kissed, when they’d decided to make love, and she’d felt free by those endless possibilities, tonight she felt frightened of being alone with him. Because she knew what was possible.
And she knew that he’d said they couldn’t do it again. But she didn’t know how.
Didn’t know how to not do it. To not want it. To not need it and him.
She didn’t know how to keep to the bargain that they’d made to preserve their friendship at all costs. The one that she’d agreed to. Because she’d decided that she was insufficient when it came to sex, and that was why he’d said no, but somehow she was sure now that that wasn’t it. That there were other reasons. And other reasons for her, as well, and it was why she let it go so easy. Because they were both running. From what it was, from what it meant.
And here they were again. And the sparks were going off between them like an electric thunderclap, and still, she wasn’t supposed to reach out and touch him.
But she didn’t jump on him when the doors to the truck closed, and when they started onto the highway after her parents he didn’t reach over and touch her, either. She was a little bit disappointed. She had hoped that the thing that was overtaking her might be taking him over, too. That they might be in this together. And it wasn’t just her. That was the really scary thing. Not the need to show restraint when she wasn’t sure she could, but that she might be in this alone. That maybe he wasn’t all that tempted by her, after all. Except she’d seen something in his eyes when she’d come down the stairs that made her feel like he had to be. Like it couldn’t just be her. It had to be the two of them.
“Jake,” she said softly as the town came into view.
The hotel was at the end of Main Street, all lit up. Two stories high with wooden balconies and a rustic dining area. But she didn’t care much about that now.
“Don’t,” he said, his voice rough. “Don’t make this difficult.”
She made a huffing sound. “I’m not making anything difficult.”
“You wore that dress,” he rasped. “You were going for difficult.”
“No,” she said. “I was trying to patch things up with my mother actually. It didn’t have anything to do with you. Though nice to know that your ego is so healthy you figured I couldn’t put on a dress if it wasn’t to make things hard for you.”