Tate jumped up, ran into the house, grabbed his keys, and rushed back out to his truck. No way things ended like this. No way he would let her get away without them exploring if this thing that had always simmered between them—admittedly ignored by him until now—was everything and more than he’d ever hoped he could have with her.
Chapter Six
Liz drove a mile from the McGrath ranch before she pulled her phone out and looked at the string of texts she’d ignored during her talk with Tate. She hated that she hoped the last few came from him.
She stopped at the intersection to the main road back to town. With no traffic coming from any direction, she took a second to read the messages.
CLINT: U there
Five minutes later . . .
CLINT: What r u doing
Three minutes later . . .
CLINT: Why are you ignoring me
One minute later . . .
CLINT: Call me
CLINT: Now
Two minutes later . . .
CLINT: Ur with Tate aren’t you
It took him eight minutes to follow that one up.
CLINT: I just want to hear from you
CLINT: Where r u
CLINT: I need to see you
CLINT: I thought we left things good
She thought so, too. Why all the texts when they had already made plans for a movie tonight? Why did he need to know where she was when they were supposed to meet in an hour?
She wiped the last of the tears from her eyes and texted him back.
LIZ: We r good. Ran an errand. Heading home now.
She dropped her phone in the cup holder and turned right onto the main road. It didn’t take more than five seconds for her phone to start chiming. She never texted and drove, so left the phone pinging with new incoming messages where it was, turned up the radio to blot out the sound and ease her heart with one of her favorite Sugarland songs, and tried not to think or feel anything for a few minutes.
She wished she could just go home, curl up in bed, and not think about what just happened for a little while, but she wasn’t going to cancel a date because of Tate. She wasn’t going to put her life on hold for him anymore.
She never expected her talk with Tate to take such a turn.
Why would Declan ask Tate such a thing? Did Declan think Tate really did have feelings for her?
Didn’t matter.
If Tate wanted to be with her, he’d have said so long before now or done something to show it.
Her absence from his life these last few weeks prompted him to say those things because he thought she didn’t want to be his friend anymore. She didn’t want him to do something he didn’t feel just to keep her as a friend.
And that’s what confused Tate. He thought maybe he was feeling something now that he hadn’t ever felt for her because she took a step back.
That wasn’t real.
So much for not thinking for a while. She couldn’t not think about Tate.
That’s why she’d needed the distance these past weeks.
She pulled into her spot under the covered parking area for her condo, shut off the car, grabbed her phone and purse, and climbed out. Her phone dinged with yet another text. She held it up and read the long string.
CLINT: What errand
CLINT: When will u be home
CLINT: Why didn’t you tell me you were going out
CLINT: What’s taking so long
CLINT: Where are you
CLINT: I expect you to answer me
Fuck you. I don’t owe you a play-by-play of my day. What I do is my business.
Rage burned through her.
She sighed and reined in her temper. Clint didn’t deserve for her to take out her frustration on him. He wanted to see her. He wanted to talk to her.
He didn’t want to share her with another man. Seemed reasonable.
She wouldn’t like it if he was always talking about and seeing another woman, even if they were just friends.
It created problems just like this.
Before she got a chance to text him back, Tate pulled in behind her car, stopped, turned off the truck, and jumped out.
“We’re not done talking,” he announced and closed the distance between them.
A car squealed its tires on the road drawing Tate’s and her attention for a moment.
She recognized Clint’s car heading in their direction and talked fast. “Tate, I don’t like the way we left things either, but maybe we need to take a minute—”
“No. We’ve had since junior high hormones kicked in and you got breasts and things got a little uncomfortable between us to figure this out.”
She couldn’t help the smile that tugged at her lips. “We’re not kids anymore. We’re not talking about puppy love and crushes. We’re talking about wanting marriage and family.” She thought that would put things into perspective for him.
Guys usually balked at commitments like that.
“Damnit, Liz, you feel like family.”
She didn’t expect that answer.
Tate stuffed his hands in his front pockets, vulnerability in his blue gaze.
“I know that, Tate. I feel the same way about you. But you’ve ignored my feelings for you all through the stages of our lives. I can’t help the way I feel. I can’t shut my feelings off. I can’t make you feel something you don’t.”
Frustration lit his eyes. “You don’t know how I feel.”
“And you admitted you’re confused about how you feel now when you’ve always maintained our friendship status and I’ve been clear about how I feel.”
Clint came to a jarring stop inches from Tate’s truck bumper, got out, and slammed his car door. “What the hell is going on?”
Liz caught her breath at the fury in his words.
Tate stepped in front of her. “We’re having a private conversation.”
Clint closed in, standing nearly chest to chest with Tate, who had a couple inches on Clint. “She’s my girlfriend. You don’t like it, fine, but that’s how things are now.”
“Did you tell your girlfriend about the woman you were dancing and drinking with at the bar after she went home?”
Clint’s eyes narrowed. “So she can have you as a friend, but I can’t have any women friends.” Liz didn’t like the satisfied grin Clint shot Tate for turning the tables on him.
When she left the bar and saw him go back inside, she suspected he might be doing something she wouldn’t like, but she hadn’t cared enough to stop him.
Blinded by flowers and pretty words. Damn. She’d been so pleased by them, she’d completely dismissed his behavior.
Tate glanced back at her. “Are you buying this?”
Not really, but Clint had a point. They were seeing each other, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t talk to other women. But she got how irritated it made him when she did so with Tate.
She tugged on Tate’s shoulder to get him to move aside. “Stop. Both of you.” She raked her fingers through her hair and focused on Clint. “What are you doing here? Our date isn’t for another half hour.”
Tate put his arm across her middle and pushed her back a step in a protective move she didn’t think necessary. “He was waiting down the street for you to come home.”