Either way… he’s been a great inspiration for my grumpy cowboy main character. All his Scrooginess has done me somegood. But that being said, if Cole wants me, he’ll have to meet me where I stand.
Chapter 8
Country Chic
Layla
As I’m sitting there half-heartedly enjoying my TV dinner, flipping through channels I’m not actually watching, there’s a knock at the door.
“Just a sec!” I yell.
For half a second, my heart jumps.
Please don’t be Cole. Please don’t be Cole.
I glance at myself in the mirror anyway, smoothing my shirt, checking my face like I care, which annoys me because I shouldn’t. I take a deep breath, let it out slowly, and open the door.
“Hey, girl. Where you been?” Maggie asks, already stepping inside like she owns the place. “You’ve missed dinner all week.”
“Is it my brother?” she adds, turning back to look at me. “He’s been… funny since that day you guys went to the creek. What happened?”
“He didn’t tell you?” I lift an eyebrow.
She snorts and drops onto the couch. “He don’t tell me shit.”
That tracks. Silence must be his first language.
She glances down at my TV dinner and pokes at it with her finger. “Is this what you’ve been eating? Nope. You’re eating dinner with us tomorrow night.”
I let out a breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding. “He kissed me,” I say flatly. “And then he ran off like a scared little boy.”
I won’t be someone's impulse and then their regret.
“Of course he did,” Maggie mutters, shaking her head. “I knew he had a thing for you the second I saw you two pull up from the grocery store.”
“If he has a thing for me like you say,” I ask, frustration bubbling up, “why would he run off?”
“It’s Cole,” she says, like that explains everything. “He’s got issues. He’s a good guy. I mean—leaving you out there in the rain with a horse? That was insane. But I think it’s eating him alive. He’s been down. Quieter than usual. And that’s saying something.”
His guilt isn’t my responsibility. He should be feeling bad. Women don’t deserve to be treated that way. Toyed with.
“I don’t allow men to treat me like that,” I say firmly.
“Good,” she fires back without hesitation. “You shouldn’t.”
I lean against the counter, arms crossed. “It’s not like I’m here forever. I don’t understand why we can’t just have fun. Mess around. Enjoy it for what it is. I wanted this experience to be relaxing not awkward and messy and full of weird feelings.”
Maggie nods slowly. “Which is actually what I wanted to talk to you about.”
She sits forward now, serious. “The spring carnival’s tomorrow. A lot of people are gonna be here. I was hoping you could help with the pony rides, getting kids on and off, letting them go around a few times, taking pictures. It’s simple, but we could really use you. Only if you’re open to it.”
“Oh my God, yes. Yes, absolutely,” I say, smacking her arm without thinking. “Sorry, I just get excited.”
Something normal. Something public. Something that isn’t about him.
She grins. “Don’t be sorry. I like seeing you excited.”
She keeps going. “Cole will be there, broodiness and all. But you’ll meet a lot of folks around here. I’ll introduce you to some friends. Afterward, we do barbecue, then head to Cotton Eye’s for drinks. It’s a small bar, about a mile from here.”
