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“You’re wasting your time, Tabitha. Really. There’s nothing remotely interesting about Cal and me.”
Tabitha hiked her expensive Gucci bag over her shoulder and moved past Millie Sue. “Isn’t there?” she said as she headed toward the elevators. She stopped before pressing the button and turned around. “You should know a couple of things about me. I don’t give up when I want something. I mean, I’ll literally do whatever it takes to win. And I don’t play by the rules. Smart people never do.” She pressed the button, and the elevator doors slid open. “I’ll see you soon.” She walked into the elevator and turned to face Millie Sue. “Maybe at the Sundowner. I sure as heck don’t want to miss another performance like last night’s. Or maybe…” The doors started to slide shut. “I’ll see you out at the ranch for Thanksgiving dinner.”
With that, the woman disappeared from view, and Millie Sue let out a long, tortured breath she didn’t even know she was holding in.
God, there wasn’t a more despicable woman in Big Bend. How in hell had Bent started up with her in the first place?
Millie Sue took the stairs two at a time. She needed to burn off some steam. Or punch a wall. She thought of that woman’s perfectly contoured nose. Maybe punch a face. By the time she reached the main floor, her blood was pounding, and the beginnings of a headache crept up her neck.
She was due at the bar, but no way was she ready to face questions and innuendo. There were a ton of messages on her phone she hadn’t replied to and had no intention to. All to do with her stupidity the night before, no doubt. She slipped out her cell and sent a text to her cousin. Told him she was feeling under the weather and wouldn’t be in unless it was absolutely necessary.
He replied in less than a minute.
All good. Jennifer is going to stay. She needs the extra $$ and I’ll close if you take my shift tomorrow.
She sent back an affirmative, and, after staring at the phone, at the unread messages from Cal, and Taz and Mike Paul among others, she powered it down and climbed into her truck. She needed to unplug from everyone and pretend for just a little bit longer that her life hadn’t taken a left turn the night before. Maybe she’d wake up in the morning and everything would be as it was before Cal had showed up in town.
A girl could hope, couldn’t she?
CHAPTER12
By Saturday evening,Cal had just about had it. He’d called Millie Sue more times than he could count, yet every single call went to voicemail. All his text messages were unanswered—in fact, they wereunread—and as he stared into the darkness outside, a fire began in his belly. He’d never been a patient man, and damned if he was going to sit back and let her ignore him for no good reason.
He made a face at that thought because it was not exactlyno good reason. He knew he should have stayed away from her but seeing Millie on stage had done something to him. It had made him remember all those nights they’d been up there together, making music and later making love. He didn’t want to forget their history. Hell, if he was honest with himself, he’d love nothing more than to dive back into some of that and see where they ended up.
He’d thought of nothing but Millie Sue since Thursday night. The color of her hair, rich as aged cider, the curve of her cheek, the way her eyes sparkled when the lights hit them or flashed when she was angry with him.
“You got a weird look on your face.”
He was in Bent’s office, which had become a sanctuary of sorts, and glanced over to Ry, who stood with his hands shoved into the front of his jeans as he leaned against the doorframe. He hadn’t seen him since dinner.
“Thought you had plans in town with your friends.”
Ryland slid his long frame onto the seat by the fireplace. He slouched into it, the way most kids his age did, and shrugged. “Party got canceled. Trace’s dad found out.”
“Who’s Trace?”
“Mulley. I think you know his uncle.”
“Petey?”
Ryland nodded.
“I didn’t know you hung out with that crew.” As far as Cal remembered, the Mulley boys had always been in trouble for something or other.
“I don’t, but Whit and the guys are out of town for football.”
Cal studied his brother for a few moments and decided to poke his nose in where he knew Ryland didn’t want it.
“Why’d you quit?” he asked. “You had a great arm and a love of the game. What changed?”
Ryland picked at some invisible thread on the edge of his T-shirt. “Guess I didn’t like being told what to do all the time.”
“I get that.” Cal kept his tone conversational. “Football is a big commitment, and Coach Walters isn’t the easiest man. Hell, I had more than my fair share of running extra laps or doing push-ups until I puked because I was a knucklehead and didn’t listen.”
“It’s not even that. I just…” Ry seemed to be struggling with the right words. Just when Cal thought he was going to clam up, he spoke. “I didn’t care about it. About any of it. The game. My friends. Carly. It’s like none of that mattered because there was all this other stuff crowding it out.”
“What kind of stuff?”
