A Real Cowboy Never Walks Away (Wyoming Rebels Book 4) Page 5

  He met her gaze briefly, but he had no words as he shrugged on his jacket. She didn't say anything either. He took her hand, and together they walked back through the kitchen to the front of the café. He unlocked the door, then turned toward her. "I wish you a lifetime of moments like this," he said softly, brushing his lips over hers for one final kiss.

  "You too."

  He knew there was no chance of that, but he didn't argue. He wasn't going to have a lifetime of these moments. He was going to have this one moment, and it would have to last him a lifetime. "Take care, sweetheart."

  He brushed his finger along her jaw, searching her eyes. So much weariness. So much pain. So much regret. But there was something else there now, too. A tiny spark that hadn't been there at the start of the night.

  Maybe he'd helped her the way she'd helped him.

  He hoped he had. If he could have made a difference to her, it made all the shit he'd endured worth it.

  "You, too."

  He pulled open the door and walked out. "Lock it behind me."

  "Of course." She paused for a moment, her brown eyes glistening. "Travis?"

  He turned back toward her. "Yeah."

  "The townspeople, the ones who don't see your value, are wrong. Don't let them win."

  Something turned over inside him at her words, something soft, something he hadn't let himself feel in years...maybe ever. "Thanks."

  She nodded, then stepped back. The door shut slowly, giving him time to leap forward and grab it before it closed.

  He didn't.

  It clicked shut, and he turned away.

  It was still raining as he walked back to his truck, but he didn't care. All he could think about was the night. Her smile. Her laugh. The kiss. The dog.

  Everything.

  He knew he wasn't going to sleep tonight, but instead of it being because he was haunted by nightmares, it was going to be because he wanted to replay every last moment.

  Again, and again, and again.

  Chapter 6

  The euphoria of her evening with Travis lasted until halfway through the next morning's rush.

  By the time lunch rush was over, Lissa was so tired she could barely think straight, and she knew she'd made a mistake hanging out with him. She'd lost at least an hour of sleep, and maybe two, because she'd fallen under his spell, leaving her to function on exactly forty-five minutes of sleep. Without Katie around to help, she should have been in bed ten minutes after she'd closed the door behind the last customer, grabbing whatever sleep she could.

  Instead, she'd lounged over pie, she'd lost herself in a hug that had lasted forever, and she'd let the man suck on her nipple until she'd had an orgasm.

  Embarrassment flooded her at the memory.

  What in heaven's name had she been thinking? Seriously. She'd practically begged him for a hug, and then made out with him like a wanton hussy. He was a stranger that she'd picked up in her café. Yes, granted, he was Chase's brother, so she knew he wasn't a serial killer, but still.

  Everything about the night had been out of character for her, and yet she'd done it anyway, and she would have done a whole lot more if he hadn't had the willpower to drag himself out of there. And quite frankly, she knew she'd make the same choices again, if she had the chance.

  Heat flushed her cheeks, and the potato she was peeling slipped out of her hands. Would she really have slept with him if he'd tried? She might have. Oh, God. Was she that desperate for kindness and connection?

  Yes, apparently she was.

  Crud.

  She had to do better than this. She had to stay focused. She had to give her daughter the chance she'd never had, which meant not sleeping around just because she was desperately lonely and her soul was crying out for companionship. Those were no excuses for getting involved with a man. See what a man brought? Chaos at best. At worst, the loss of the foundation that was supporting her life.

  Because of Travis, she was tired, behind schedule, and obsessing over him. Yes, she knew it had been a mistake. But did that keep her from thinking about him? No, not in the slightest. She'd caught herself replaying little moments from the night dozens of times, grinning like a lovesick fool. A comment he'd made. The feel of his body against hers. His scent. The way he'd howled, pretending he was Bo.

  The man had howled for her.

  Was it any wonder she'd been unable to tear herself away from him? What man howled for a woman? None, as far as she knew.

  But a howl wasn't going to help her life, or even sustain her. See what men did? They endangered everything that mattered to her. She needed to get through this crazy week, and then back to a regular schedule and time to be a mom. Only a few days to go—

  The back door of her kitchen swung open. The sun silhouetted her visitor, showcasing a tall, broad-shouldered cowboy. Despite all her wisdom about how much trouble Travis was, it didn't keep her traitorous heart from leaping—

  "Pie delivery!" Chase Stockton's deep voice jerked her out of her reverie.

  It was Chase. Not Travis. Embarrassment flushed her cheeks, and she quickly set down her peeler as Chase walked into the kitchen, carrying three stacked trays of pies. He was wearing jeans and a cowboy hat, just like Travis. She realized he had the same bone structure in his face, and his piercing blue eyes—it was almost as if Travis was in her kitchen, staring at her. The resemblance was extraordinary, and her heart turned over.

  Chase frowned. "Where do you want them?"

  "Oh, right." She pointed to a table she'd set up against the back wall. "There would be great."

  "You got it." He set the trays down. "There are six blueberry, six raspberry and six apple. I have more in the truck. Be right back."

  Relief rushed through Lissa at the sight of all the pies. "Oh my gosh, Chase, you're amazing! How did you bake all these today?"

  He winked at her. "You said you needed pies, and you get pies. We've got three kitchens at the ranch now, so we used them all. It's about time Steen and Zane learned the Stockton secret to pies, so they all worked on it."

  She stared at him. "Your brothers baked too?"

  "Yep, and their kids, and their wives."

  Tears threatened as she watched Chase duck out the door. He'd corralled his entire family to bake pies for her? How could anyone be that nice? "I didn't mean for everyone to do it—"

  "It was so much fun." Mira, Chase's wife, walked in, holding their three-month-old baby. Mira's dark blond hair was loose, tumbling over her shoulders in wild curls. Despite the fact she was from the citified south, she was pure rancher's wife now, with cowboy boots, jeans, and even a plaid button-down shirt knotted at the waist. Their baby, J.J., was in a blue tee shirt and matching pants, sound asleep against Mira's shoulder. "The brothers still need to work on cementing their brotherly bond after all their time apart. There's nothing like pie to bring some overly testosteroned men together, right?"

  Lissa bit her lip. "I know but—"

  "Hey." Mira's face softened. "I know what it's like to be fighting battles on your own," she said gently. "So does everyone on that ranch. You can't really think that we wouldn't help out, would you? You were so nice to me when I first moved here, and I was looking for a job. Remember when you fed me that day I was so upset about Chase being such a bonehead?"

  Lissa smiled at the memory of Mira storming into her café, hungry, annoyed, and so in love, but completely clueless that she was. "I do."

  "So, it's our turn to help you." J.J. fussed in his sleep, and Mira nuzzled him, whispering gently to him.

  Lissa's heart tightened at the sight of the little boy. "He's so big," she whispered. "I can't believe how much he's grown."

  "I know." Mira beamed at her, and Lissa realized she didn't even look tired. Lissa had been tired since the day Bridgette had been born eight years ago. "Chase insisted on bringing him to the fair this afternoon, even though he's so little he won't even notice it!" She wrinkled her nose. "He wants to indoctrinate him with the cowboy way from the start." />
  "Cowboys have fantastic moral codes, and they're complete badasses," Chase announced as he walked in, carrying three more trays. "I'm doing him a favor by making sure he starts off right."

  Mira smiled at Chase, and Lissa's chest tightened at the adoring look Chase gave her. He kissed J.J.'s little head as he walked by, clearly as in love with his son as he was with his wife. For a split second, Lissa caught herself wondering what it would have been like for Bridgette to have a dad who looked at her the way Chase looked at his son. Her throat tightened, and guilt hit her hard and unexpectedly, the guilt that her daughter had been raised with only a mom for family. No dad, no cousins, no grandparents...just her. She did her best, but how much was Bridgette missing by having no one else?

  No.

  No.

  No.

  She couldn't go there. Bridgette was happy, smart, loved, and full of laughter. Her life was better with just a mom than with a family who would try to destroy her, right? So, it was okay.

  Chase set the last batch of pies on the counter. "Let me know if you need more tomorrow," he said. "It's a great excuse to bake."

  "I'm sure this will last me a few days." Lissa couldn't hide the relief in her voice. "You guys are amazing."

  "No problem." Chase swept J.J. from Mira's arms and nuzzled the little boy, who was too sleepy to care that daddy was bugging him. "We're off. My brother's in town, and we're going to try to find him at the fair. He's too damn busy to stay at the ranch, so I need to harass him about that."

  "Your brother?" she echoed, her stomach doing a little flip.

  "Yep. Travis." Chase frowned. "He was supposed to get into town last night, but I haven't heard from him. He's not returning my calls, and the hotel said he hadn't checked in. We're going to track him down." There was the faint edge to his voice, as if he was actually a little worried about him, but didn't want to admit it.

  "He was...in here last night," she blurted out.

  Chase's eyebrows shot up. "He was?"

  "Yes. He...helped me out when my waitress didn't show up. I'm guessing that's why he didn't get back to you. I kept him kind of busy on the grill." She tried to sound casual, shrugging as she turned away and began sorting through the pies.

  Chase stared at her. "He cooked for your café?"

  "Uh huh. He's pretty good at it." She glanced over at Mira and Chase, who were both watching her with undecipherable expressions on their faces. Almost like...shock? "I don't suppose you know anyone who can help me out this week? My waitress eloped, and I'm shorthanded."

  Mira shook her head. "I can ask around, though, while we're at the fair."

  "Thanks." She shifted, uncomfortably aware of how intently Mira and Chase were watching her. "What?"

  "It's just that..." Chase frowned. "I can't see Travis in here cooking. He didn't even have time to visit the ranch. His schedule is booked every second he's here. Or he said it was."

  "Booked?" Lissa echoed. "Booked with what?"

  "Shows. Interviews. Whatever else he has to do." Little J.J. began to fuss, and Chase turned away, cooing to the baby. "I'm going to hunt him down for sure now," he said as he walked out. "Blowing me off to flip burgers. What kind of brotherly love is that?" he asked the baby, as they disappeared out the door.

  Mira hung behind. "Sorry about that. It's just that Chase has been trying for so long to bring the brothers together. He was super frustrated that Travis couldn't make time to come by the ranch, even though he's in town for a week." She eyed Lissa. "What did you think of him?"

  Lissa felt her cheeks heat up. "He's nice."

  "Nice?" Mira eyed her speculatively. "The expression on your face says he was more than nice."

  "No, I just meant—"

  "Lissa." Mira eyed her, leaning casually against one of the metal racks. "The Stockton men had a really, really bad childhood. They're extremely loyal to each other, but they don't trust easily, especially women. They put on a show for the world, but privately, they have more walls around them than you could even imagine."

  Lissa frowned, trying to reconcile the image Mira presented with the funny, charming, intense man from last night. "Really?"

  "Yes." Mira hesitated. "If Travis spent his evening in here helping you out, it's because he saw something in you that touched him."

  A little thrill thrummed through Lissa. "You think?"

  "I do." Mira tilted her head, watching Lissa curiously. "Are you going to see him again?"

  The thrill faded. "No."

  "Why not?"

  "Because neither of us are interested in a relationship or dating or anything like that. Plus he's leaving town."

  "Hmm..." Mira ignored Chase's shout from outside to hurry up. "I really like Travis," she said. "He's a good man, but he's got a lot of issues. If you were to decide to see him again, you'd have to be willing to hang in there because he's got a lot to battle through before he could be there for you."

  "I'm not—"

  "But once he commits, he'll be there for life. He'd be worth the battle." Mira rolled her eyes as Chase called her name again. "I have to go. We can't be late for the children's concert, right? Chase is hoping Travis is a surprise guest performer there so we can corner him." Mira hugged her quickly. "I'll keep an eye out for someone to waitress for you. Love to Bridgette!" With a quick wink, Mira hurried out, leaving Lissa staring after her, a thousand questions rolling through her mind.

  What interviews did Travis have? Why would he be at a children's concert? And was Mira right that if he committed, it would be forever? Loyalty. God, loyalty. She couldn't imagine trusting anyone, especially a man, to always be there. She didn't think she would ever believe in a forever guy. She didn't want to. To surrender that kind of power to a man made her too vulnerable—

  "Mom!" Her daughter's joyous voice made her spin around just in time to see Bridgette race through the kitchen door. She was wearing sparkly denim shorts, a pink tank top, and her favorite faded cowboy hat. Lissa was struck by how long her legs were getting. She realized suddenly that her daughter didn't look like a little girl anymore. She looked like a preteen now.

  "Bridgette!" Lissa caught her in a hug as her daughter launched herself at her. "I didn't know you were coming by today."

  "Mom!" Bridgette pulled back, her nose wrinkled in dismay. "You promised you'd take me to the calf roping preliminaries this afternoon. It's tradition!"

  Lissa's heart sank. "Is that today? It's usually on the second day."

  "The schedule's different because they added bull riding this year." Bridgette put her hands on her hips, her face crestfallen. "You're not going to come, are you? You have to work."

  "I'm so sorry, hon. It's just that Katie quit, and I have all this prep—"

  "I'll do it." Martha Keller, the older woman who was watching Bridgette this week, walked in, wearing white jeans, rhinestone boots, and a bright aqua shirt that made her red hair pop. "Don't be a martyr, Lissa. Take one hour to be with your daughter."

  "But—"

  "Just go." Martha grabbed the same pink apron that Travis had been wearing last night. "I've eaten here a hundred times. I know what you need done."

  Lissa hesitated. She knew she should be at the café, taking advantage of the one hour when she was closed to catch up, but with Bridgette staring up at her with such hope on her face, her heart ached to be with her.

  Martha laughed softly. "Go, Lissa."

  She looked back at her. "Martha—"

  "Just bake me a lot of pies when this week's rush is over." Martha winked. "You know how I love pies, girlie."

  "It'll just be for an hour. I'll be back before—"

  "Go!" Martha waved her off and picked up a sharp knife. "I'm a machine in the kitchen. Everything will be chopped by the time you get back."

  Lissa hesitated, then threw her arms around Martha. "Thank you," she whispered. "I could never have done this without you." Somehow, in the eight years she'd been in Rogue Valley, Martha had become the mother she'd never had, the grandmothe
r she'd lost too young. "Thank you."

  Martha hugged her back. "Love you, girlie. Now go play with your daughter."

  "I will." Her heart a thousand times lighter, Lissa grabbed her daughter's hand. "Let's go, squirt. It's fair time!"

  Chapter 7

  "So, tell us, Travis, why exactly did you fire your lead guitarist and your agent?" The reporter in the third row asked.

  Travis ground his jaw, shifting restlessly in the chair. Between radio interviews and the press conference he was currently enduring, it was the seventeenth time he'd been asked that question this morning, and he was getting damned tired of it. "It was the right move for all of us."

  "But the quality of your shows has gone down now. Why would you make a decision that would adversely affect your career? Plus, you and Mariel wrote some of your best songs together."

  Travis's head was pounding, and he just wanted out, but he fought for composure. "Why don't we talk about the fair? That's why I'm in town."

  Another reporter raised his hand, and Travis nodded. "Rumors are that you have an alcohol problem. That you got drunk and knocked Mariel around. Malcolm rescued her, they threatened to sue you, and you paid them off to keep quiet. Is this true?"

  Anger flooded Travis at the accusation. He leaned forward, gripping the microphone, unable to keep the fury out of his voice, even though he kept his voice clipped. "Everyone in this fucking room knows I've never touched a drink in my entire life—"

  "Rumors say that's a lie," the reporter persisted. "Rumors are that behind closed doors you're an angry drunk, and the reason you don't have a new album out is because you're too much of a mess to write anything."

  "This is over." Travis stood up abruptly, barely able to contain his anger. What the fuck right did people have to say shit like that to him? He ignored the questions and strode off the stage and through his security team, slamming the curtains aside as he went backstage.

  "Travis. What are you doing?" His tour manager, Jason, caught up to him. "You can't lose your shit like that—"