“She stayed another ten minutes or so, then left with friends.”
Tate didn’t know if he wished Clint left with another woman or was relieved that the shithead hadn’t cheated on Liz. She didn’t deserve that. And she deserved a hell of a lot better than her boyfriend hanging out and chatting up other women in a bar behind her back.
Wait, something seemed off. “Why didn’t he go home with Liz?”
“Is it really any of your business?”
Yes! Why was there even a question about it? “I’m looking out for my best friend.”
“I thought I was your best friend.” Declan’s mocking pouty tone nearly got him decked.
“Do you want a friendship bracelet to prove it?” Tate teased back. But he wanted Declan to start talking, because his brother held something back.
Declan stared out the windshield for one long second, then spilled. “After you left, they danced and seemed to be having a good time. Then . . .”
“Then what?”
“He grabbed her arm on the dance floor and again at the table while they were talking. Looked intense.”
“Did he hurt her?”
Declan’s mouth dipped into a frown. “Not sure. But it didn’t seem friendly.”
“I don’t like this.” You do not grab a woman that way. Ever. End of story.
“You mean you don’t like him.”
“I don’t like anyone who thinks they can put their hands on her.”
Declan’s head rolled toward him again. Mirth shone in his eyes. “Is that right?”
Tate swore and huffed out a frustrated sigh. “That’s not what I mean.”
“Are you sure?” The teasing tone said Declan already knew the answer.
Yes.
No.
He wished he knew.
He spent half the night thinking about that and still hadn’t untangled his jumbled thoughts and didn’t even want to consider his feelings one way or the other because . . . Liz. Enough said. She was his friend. He liked it that way. Simple. Uncomplicated. Easy.
They’d never mucked things up by getting personal. Yet their relationship went deeper than any other he’d had with another woman. Maybe because those had been heavy on the physical side of things and light on deep emotion. Liz knew him better than anyone. If he mixed in a physical relationship with her—
He couldn’t go there.
The friendship meant too much to him. And yet, it was because of her that they’d remained so close. She drove the relationship.
He counted on her to keep them connected.
Not that he didn’t call her or drop by to see her now and again. He did. But he reluctantly admitted that normally that was because he wanted something.
“I can practically feel you thinking.” Declan interrupted his thoughts. “You keep grinding away on this, smoke is going to come out your ears.”
“Shut up.”
“Very mature.” Declan settled back, eyes closed. “If you want things to be different, if you want to keep her, you need to be different.”
He’d taken her for granted. He owned that. He owed her an apology for it, but it didn’t mean they shouldn’t be friends anymore. He could do better. He would.
If she’d give him a shot.
That if scared him.
He didn’t want to lose her.
Liz was special.
Clint saw that. Maybe whatever they had wouldn’t last. He hoped it didn’t because Clint seemed like an asshat. The arm-grabbing thing definitely sent up a red flag. And he’d talk to Liz about it if she didn’t do something. Like leave the guy.
But someone else would surely come along and see what a wonderful person she was and he’d be right back here faced with losing her as a friend. Because no way some guy would allow her to be best friends with him when she was with them.
He wouldn’t want to share her.
I don’t want to share her.
Fuck.
Did that mean he wanted her for himself?
He wasn’t ready to go there. Not with so much at stake.
Declan opened the passenger door the minute he stopped in the pasture. “You think on it too long, it might be too late.” Declan climbed out and slammed the door on the ominous declaration.
The cows made their way across the pasture, the sound of the truck bringing them for the feed Declan started tossing out the bed of the truck.
Tate slammed his hand against the steering wheel. “Shit.”
He needed to talk to Liz. Clear the air. Get their friendship back on track. Figure out where her head was at, and why the hell she’d give that guy the time of day.
Could they still be friends if she was with someone else?
If she left Clint, did Tate want something more with her?
Could he risk what they had for something more?
If he lost her either way, could he live with that?
He didn’t want to think about it.
Either way, he was tired of not knowing what she thought and what she wanted.
He’d always known she’d liked him more than as a friend. He never acknowledged it or threw it in her face. Maybe his avoiding it had grown tiresome for her.
He’d been careful not to hurt her feelings.
Maybe his silence hurt more than if they’d talked about it and put it out there in the open.
They’d had their share of spats in the past—mostly because he’d pissed her off about something—but they’d always worked things out.
Most of this was probably his fault. He accepted that, no problem.
If she had something to say, if she was angry with him for something he’d done, she should have come to him, not shut him out for six long weeks.
And okay, it shouldn’t have taken him that long to figure out they had a problem.
Having a lot going on in his life didn’t excuse him from being blind and deaf when it came to his best friend.
He’d fix this.
He had to, because he didn’t want to think about his life without Liz in it.
Chapter Four
Liz looked up to greet the next customer coming in the door at Zen Out, the day spa she managed, but the only thing she could see of the guy behind the huge bouquet of flowers he carried were his black pants and shoes.
“Hello there,” she called.
“Delivery for Liz Scott.” The delivery guy set the basket on the counter and stepped to the side to see her.
“That’s me.”
He handed over a tablet. “Sign here please.”
She squiggled what would have to pass as her signature with her fingertip and smiled. “I can’t believe they’re for me.”
“Enjoy. Have a good day.” He walked out without her even attempting to give him a tip.
She couldn’t take her eyes off the pretty flowers. Red roses, white carnations, pink lilies, purple asters were mixed in the greenery.
She pulled the card out and read it.
Even these aren’t as pretty as you.
See you tonight. Clint
She woke up this morning with a sense of relief that she’d decided to pump the brakes on her relationship with Clint. If it didn’t feel right, she didn’t want to waste time waiting for it to give her the feelings she thought she should have with someone.
And then Clint went and did this and her heart soared. The unexpected gift made her second-guess how she felt about him. Maybe she’d been too rash to think that one bad night meant they were doomed to a bad relationship.