A decision that’s already been made. He just doesn’t need to know that. Yet.
The old brick building I passed disappears in my rearview mirror. My aunt Penelope has owned the Mayson Jar, a popular restaurant/bar in downtown Mayson Ridge since I was a kid, and it’s usually my first stop when I come to town. But today I need to get to the ranch first. I was born in this small Texas town, but when my father, the other man who’s managed to royally fuck up my life, landed a job on an offshore drilling rig, we picked up and moved to an even smaller coastal town. Still Texas but miles away. Wimberly Cove is what my address read, but my heart has always belonged in Mayson Ridge.For more than one reason.
As soon as school would let out, I’d spend the summer at the Mayson Ranch. The ranch was nestled between thousands of acres of raw land that my aunt Ruthie and uncle Emmett owned and operated.
“There’s no question, Parker. You’re in your prime. This is just a small setback. Six more weeks of rehab, then you’re back in the game. I’ve got more sponsors lined up.”
Of course he does.
I manage to keep my hands on the wheel instead of ending the call. Then he continues to hammer in another reason to throw in the towel.
“And just so we’re clear. I’m not sure why you insisted on rehabbing in the middle of bumfuck nowhere, but this better not affect Tori.”
Now he’s overstepping.
“And just so we’re clear,” I mock. “I already told you that’s over. I did as you asked.”
“I made you, Parker.” I can practically hear the grit of his fake white teeth through the phone. “And I have the power to ruin you. Don’t forget that.”
The line goes dead and I wait for his threat to hit. It doesn’t. I’m past the point of caring. Past the bullshit that comes along with my accomplishments.My being the keyword. Not his.
I take a second to let the guilt slip into place. The guilt of my choices. The ones I thought were right at the time. The ones that have haunted me every single day for the last seven years. But as quickly as the feeling appears, it washes through me, leaving me with a steady numbness I’ve grown to prefer.
Fifteen minutes later, I’m pulling through the double gates of the Mayson Ranch. The dusty drive brings a sense of peace as my wheels turn. This place is more than just a ranch. It’s where I learned to ride a horse. Learned the importance of hard work. Learned what it was like to lose an animal.To lose a woman.This place taught me more about life than being on the road ever could. Anytime shit went south, and I needed to find my footing, this slice of heaven was where I aimed my tires.
The grounds are quiet as I park my truck next to the horse barn. It’s Sunday, which means the majority of the ranch hands have the day off. I’m sure Ryder is out there somewhere. Work is all he seems to do.
After stepping out of the truck, I retrieve my duffle bag, then head to the office where Cooper usually spends his time when he’s not with his new bride. I’m still in shock that he’s married and has a teenager.
Entering the alleyway of the barn, I glance around before calling out, “Anyone here?”
Rustling from the office catches my attention, so I stride to the open doorway.
My eyebrows rise as Dakota, Cooper’s wife, slides off the desk while Cooper clearly tucks himself back inside his pants.
I suppress a laugh. “Did I interrupt?”
“Nope,” Dakota responds the same time Coop mutters a disgruntled, “Yes.”
His eyes dart to mine, a hint of aggravation at the activity I unknowingly disrupted.
“Figures.” I grunt under my breath as Dakota spins to face me.
“What brings you to Mayson Ridge?” she asks, her lips twitching with her usual mischief.
Cooper rounds the desk, his arms out for a brotherly hug since I haven’t seen him in months. I even missed their wedding, which I’m still pissed about.
“Sorry I couldn’t be at the wedding. Surgery was brutal.”
That isn’t a lie. I may have won the national championship at the finals, but before I could leave the arena, the bull managed to take down a bullfighter, then wrangle me to the ground. I was hauled out with a concussion, four broken ribs, a ripped rotator cuff, and a slight jaw fracture. And in turn, a questionable career.
“It’s okay. Maybe you’ll be at our next one.” Cooper grins. “We’ve already had two.”
I chuckle as he motions to the duffle bag on my shoulder.
“You staying?”
His eyes narrow slightly, trying to figure out why I’m here and if the reasons I tell him are half-truths. Coop was always good at that. Seeing through my bullshit.
