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Bubba leaned in, sealing the promise with a kiss, wanting to believe everything was perfect between them. But as he made love to Marisol again, he couldn’t help but feel that some part of her was still beyond his reach and might always be. He couldn’t help worrying that maybe love wasn’t always enough, and that some secrets had the power to destroy the best things in the world, no matter how determined a man might be to stop them.
CHAPTERSIXTEEN
“Everything is going to be okay,”Marisol told her reflection at the crack of dawn Thursday morning, pulling her hair into a ponytail in Robert’s master bath while he finished packing everything he’d need to go straight from the ranch, to Austin, and from Austin, out to begin the tour.
Everything was going to be fine. Robert hadn’t been able to get in touch with Cole last night, but he’d left his brother a message letting him know that he and Marisol were going to bring the missing cattle in alone. Cole hadn’t called back last night, or early this morning—Marisol had peeked at Roberts’s phone twice to make sure—so if they could make it far enough up the trail to be out of cell range before Cole showed up at the ranch, they would be home free.
Until this afternoon. Cole could be waiting for you when you get back with that video cued up and ready to play.
Marisol pushed the fear to the back of her mind as she and Robert pulled up at the ranch and joined Laura Mae in the kitchen for a quick breakfast. If Cole wasthatdetermined to stick his nose in, he would have answered the phone last night, or met them for breakfast this morning. Robert had said Cole usually slept at his girl-of-the-month’s house, but that his middle brother had a home on the opposite side of the valley from John’s. If Cole had been determined to get to Robert, he could have slept at his own house and been waiting for them at Laura Mae’s the moment they walked in the door.
But so far, he’d been lying low, making her think he must have taken her words at the bar to heart. Hopefully, he felt his warning had been sufficient, and there was no need to enlighten his little brother to her status as a low-level sex tape celebrity.
Marisol would tell Robert the entire, sordid story herself, sooner or later, but she wanted to make sure the moment was right. They needed more time together first. Time to cement their relationship, make more good memories, and share less scandalous secrets before jumping into the “millions of men have watched me have sex” conversation.
As she and Robert saddled up and started up the trail into the mountains, Marisol finally dared to believe they might have that time. Sadie and Mally Alice, the border collies, ran ahead, obviously eager to find the cattle that had eluded them days before, and the sun had the decency to hide behind soft gray clouds that promised shade, but no serious rain. It was the perfect day for a roundup, and at nearly ten after seven there was still no sign of Cole’s truck pulling up the long road to Laura Mae’s.
Still, Marisol didn’t completely relax her guard until the ranch was out of sight around several curves in the trail, and the only sounds were the cries of whip-poor-wills settling into their nests in the dirt, and the soft clomp of horse hooves on the dusty ground.
Only then, when she knew they were out of cell range and there would be no phone calls to interrupt them, did she turn to Robert and say, “I have a confession to make.”
He glanced over, brows lifting beneath the brim of his cowboy hat. “You hate sausage gravy.”
She smiled. “No, I like sausage gravy.”
“You didn’t each much,” he said. “Were the biscuits too hard?”
“No, they were great, I just…wasn’t very hungry,” she said, taking a bracing breath. “This is more of a…personal confession.”
“I’m listening.” Robert’s voice was rough and a little sleepy sounding, despite the two cups of coffee he’d downed with breakfast. But they’d stayed up late last night, and Marisol could tell he was tired, though, to her, he looked even more handsome than usual.
In a faded brown plaid button up rolled at the sleeves, battered blue jeans, and a hint of scruff on his cheeks he hadn’t bothered to shave, Robert looked more like an outlaw than every cowboy’s best friend. The scruff gave him a rough edge that turned Marisol’s thoughts to all the wicked things he’d done to her last night. Her bottom still ached from the spanking, but it was a pleasant ache, a blissful reminder of how good it felt to let go of her worries and inhibitions, and be vulnerable in his arms.
But she knew Robert craved that vulnerability outside the bedroom, too, and she wanted to make him as happy as he was making her. She wasn’t ready to confess her deepest, darkest secrets, but there were a few shadowy ones she was ready to bring out into the light.
“You asked me yesterday why I’d never told you that I could sing,” she said, pushing on when he nodded. “The truth is, when I was growing up, I used to dream about being a country music star. From the time I was really little, listening to Johnny Cash with myabuelain her trailer behind my parents’ house, I knew that’s what I wanted to do.AbuelaAdelita was my biggest fan, and always had new music picked out for us to play together. We made scrapbooks full of costume ideas with pictures I cut out of magazines, and wrote songs together on my mother’s recipe cards. And every chance I got, when I wasn’t helping my parents or my brothers, I’d run out to the swing set in the backyard and swing and sing at the top of my lungs.”
She glanced over to find him watching her with a cautious expression, as if he wanted to know more, but was hesitant to ask. Marisol knew that hesitance was her fault, and it made her even more determined to show him that she didn’t want to shut him out. Not anymore.
“Even when I was in high school, and way too old for a swing set, I’d still go out there sometimes,” she continued, a wave of melancholy filling her chest as she remembered how lonely she was by then, with herabueladead and her parents having abandoned all hope of understanding their strangely outgoing only daughter. “I made my first demo tape when I was sixteen, and I would perform at every craft fair and flea market my old brother would drive me to. I was sure I was going to hit it big straight out of high school.”
“So why’d you give up?” Robert asked, making Marisol cast him a narrow glance out of the corner of her eyes.
“What makes you so sure I gave up?”
“You must have given up. You’re too good. If you’d kept at it, you’d be too big by now to have time to mess with someone like me.” He took a quick look ahead at the trail before turning back to her. “Seriously, Marisol, your voice is one of the prettiest things I’ve ever heard.”
“You might be a little biased,” she said, even as she realized she loved him for it, for making her feel like some amazing catch, instead of a minnow better thrown back in the stream.
He shook his head. “I’m not biased, at least not about that. You heard those people last night. They fell in love with you while you were on that stage.”
“They fell in love withus. I wasn’t up there alone.”
Robert smiled a secretive smile. “That’s true. I’ve been thinking about that…”
“Thinking what?” she asked, brows drawing together. “I’m not sure I like the tone in your voice.”
He laughed. “What tone is that?”
