“Yes. My gosh, Kaylee, it’s obvious there’s something between y’all! An attraction that you really can’t deny. It’s covered up by the attitude you both give each other, but it’s clear you get under Ty’s skin, and I don’t think it’s in the way you think. I think he likes you so much, but he feels like he can’t act on it, and that agitates him. He then takes it out on you. I mean, you sorta do the same thing to him.”
I let her words rattle around in my head. “This is interesting. I suddenly feel like I’m living in one of the romance books I edit. How had I not thought of it that way?”
She took my hand and squeezed. “Sometimes that old saying about not seeing the forest for the trees is pretty spot on, my friend. Talk to him. You’re long overdue.”
We started walking again and stepped up into the gazebo, where Lincoln sat down and let out a slow breath as her entire body sagged. “I’m exhausted.”
“I bet you are, but you’re a great mom—you know that.”
Lincoln smiled and motioned for me to sit down next to her. I did and looked out over the pasture. Small patches of snow still covered the fields. With the recent warm-up, the snow had begun to melt. I loved that you could see hints of spring trying to be born, but winter was still holding on with an iron fist. I wrapped my scarf a little tighter around my neck and took in the peacefulness that was Montana.
Lincoln leaned her head on my shoulder, and it made me think of her asking about John a few minutes before.
It had been three years since John killed himself. I’d had no idea he had been so unhappy. No one did. And he left a note that simply said he was sorry. It was a complete shock to me and his family. Even his boss said that John had been excited about a new promotion at work.
That was the worst part about his suicide: I had no answers. Nothing that told me why. Could I have done something to help him? Was there something I missed that I shouldn’t have? The endless what-ifs nearly drove me insane and were part of the reason it took me so long to come to grips with his death.
The first year, I felt like I was living in my own personal hell. I didn’t even leave my apartment for months. Once I left Georgia, and the familiar stomping grounds I’d shared with John, I stopped having the nightmares. I didn’t miss the feeling of waking up drenched in sweat, screaming for John not to pull the trigger. I wasn’t even home when he took his own life, but the dreams always felt so damn real.
Of course, my therapist got me through most of it, especially the part about me keeping myself locked away from the world. It took me months before I could walk past the coffee shop we would stop at together every morning without breaking down and crying. And I hated myself for so many reasons. I couldn’t save John, I was being weak, and all I wanted to do was forget. My chest felt like it was tightening just thinking back on it all.
There were so many times I’d thought about sleeping with someone, anyone, to take my mind off how lonely I felt. How hurt I was that John didn’t trust me enough to tell me he wasn’t happy, to share his suffering with me.
I shivered, but it had nothing to do with the cold weather. I pushed the negative thoughts about that time of my life away and closed my eyes. It was moments like this that I did what the therapist told me to do when I felt those old familiar feelings coming back.
One deep breath in, one deep out. Focus on the future.
In. Out.
Until the tightness in my chest loosened and all the bad feelings of anxiety and depression slipped free of my body.
Lincoln didn’t say anything or even move. She knew the drill. Deep breathing meant I was fighting the memories, the fears and doubts. They didn’t always show up as nightmares. No, sometimes it was a random panic attack. Or a crying fit for no apparent reason. Grief and sadness had a way of wreaking havoc on one’s body. I could feel happy as a clam, then sad as fuck the next second.
“You know he would want you to move on, right?” Lincoln finally said.
“Yes, I know. It’s just . . .”
She lifted her head and turned her body to face me, wrapping her own coat and scarf tighter around herself. “It’s just what?”
“The first guy I let myself even think about moving on with rejected me and acts like being around me is a chore.”
Lincoln smiled softly. “There are moments you guys get along. Remember when you found out I was pregnant before I even did?”
A wide grin broke out on my face. “Yes, I do remember that. It was one of the rare times Ty and I actually didn’t fight. I think we were both too excited for you and Brock.”
“Do you want a relationship with Ty?”
I tossed my hands up in the air and let them fall dramatically to my lap. “Hell, I don’t even know anymore, Lincoln. I don’t honestly think I could take another heartbreak, and I feel like Ty would not only break my heart but rip it up into a million pieces and stomp all over them if I let him in.”
“He wouldn’t hurt you on purpose.”
Looking down at my hands, now folded in my lap, I saw how red they were getting from the cold. Why hadn’t I grabbed my gloves?
“No, I don’t think he would, either, and that’s why he keeps me at arm’s length. That day I kissed him in your kitchen, I felt it, and I know he did too. He tried to play it off by acting like he hadn’t experienced the same rush of feelings I had. He chooses to ignore it, and I deserve someone who wants me—someone who isn’t afraid to show me how he feels, someone who will treasure the love I have to give to him. That much I know.”
“Like I said . . . talk to him.”
I felt my chin wobble as I looked back over the mountains. “And if he tells me he isn’t interested?”
“Then you move on, Kaylee. Like you said, you deserve happiness, but pushing your feelings to the side because you’re afraid he won’t want the things you want isn’t healthy.”
I nodded. “You’re right. I need to talk to him. And if he truly doesn’t have any feelings for me, I’ll move on.”
Chapter Four
TY
I tipped back the beer bottle and took a long drink.
Betty Jane walked up and tapped the bar. “Another one?”
“Yeah, one more.”
She motioned with her chin to the dance floor. “The brunette out there with the shorter-than-hell shorts on is looking at you again.”
“Not interested.”
Her eyes widened in shock. “So the rumors are true. Are you slowing down on your playboy ways, Ty Shaw?”
With a smirk, I replied, “Hell no, haven’t been in the mood for anyone here in town.”
“That’s because you’ve slept with nearly all of them.”
I laughed. Hell if it wasn’t almost true.
Betty Jane’s eyes went to the entrance of the bar, and then quickly back to me. “No one has caught your attention lately? Not even our feisty local city girl, Kaylee?”
I let out a grunt. “Fuck, especially not her.”
“That’s too bad. She’s making her way over to you as we speak.”
With a groan, I looked over my shoulder and saw Kaylee walking my way.
“Fuck,” I mumbled before I shouted to Betty Jane, “give me a shot of whiskey too!”