Blinding Rain, Season 2, Episode 7 (Rising Storm) (7 page)

“Will you come with me?” The words left his mouth before he could stop them.

Mary Louise smiled and squeezed his hand. “I think this part you should probably do on your own.”

He nodded and looked down at her hand covering his. Man, she had great hands. Long fingers, delicate nails. He really liked the look of her hands. They weren’t callused or rough from working outdoors or with animals. They were soft and perfect.

“Tell you what,” she said softly. “I’ll be right here when you get done. And after, if you’re up for it, I’ll cook you dinner back at my place. If, that is, you don’t already have plans.”

His gaze lifted to hers. Was she asking him out? His heart picked up speed as he studied her. The nervous look in her eyes told him yes.

“Okay,” he said slowly, savoring that knowledge. “Don’t steal my car while I’m gone.”

Mary Louise smiled as he popped his door and climbed out. “I will try not to, Mr. Johnson.”

Tate was actually smiling as he crossed toward the barn, about to meet with his brother. He never in a million years would have predicted
that
. But his smile faded as soon as he stepped into the barn and heard the unmistakable sounds of kissing.

A familiar burn cut across his chest, and his first reaction was to retreat, but before he could make it back to the door he remembered what Mary Louise had said to him at the pub. That he wouldn’t be nearly as upset if Hannah had cheated on him with another guy. Mary Louise had been right of course. Now that he could look at his relationship with Hannah objectively, he knew she hadn’t been right for him and he hadn’t been right for her. Neither of them had been able to admit it, though. So instead of breaking up months ago as they should have done, their relationship had deteriorated to this.

He frowned as he moved back into the barn, toward the sound of kissing instead of away from it, as he wanted. Mary Louise was right about something else. His anger had little to do with Hannah and everything to do with his brother. But for the sake of the family, he could be the better man, couldn’t he? He sure the hell hoped so since he was about to come face to face with two people he’d rather not see.

He rounded a corner toward the stalls, and just as he expected, the two lip-locked in front of the horses were Tucker and Hannah. His gut tightened, and his feet itched to turn and run, but he stopped where he was and slid his hands in the pockets of his slacks instead.

Neither heard him. And though he definitely wasn’t happy with the scene in front of him, it didn’t hurt him. At least not in the way it should if he really had loved Hannah.

He cleared his throat, anxious just to get this over with. Hannah’s eyes opened, and when she spotted him over Tucker’s shoulder she lurched back and gasped. “Tate.”

Tucker whipped around and immediately stepped in front of Hannah.

“Relax,” Tate said, inwardly cringing because, geez, had he really been that bad that his brother thought he had to protect Hannah from him? “I’m not here to cause any trouble. I just want to talk.”

“Okay,” Tucker said warily. “About what?”

Tate rolled his eyes. Hannah must have nudged Tucker or pinched him because he whispered, “Sorry. I don’t know what to say.”

“Well, I do,” Tate said. “I’ve been a little bit of a bear—”

“A little?” Tucker asked.

When Tate frowned, Tucker said, “Sorry. Go on.”

“I probably didn’t...handle things as well as I could have,” Tate went on. “The two of you together is...” He waved a hand, trying to find the right word, coming up absolutely blank. “Well, it’s not anything I ever expected.”

“Listen, Tate.” Tucker stepped forward. “I know we didn’t go about this the right way—”

Tate held up a hand. “Let me finish.” He wasn’t really in the mood for excuses. Wasn’t sure he was ready to hear them. He just needed to say what he’d come to say so he could leave. He looked at Hannah. “I’m not so upset about us. The more I’ve thought about it, the more I’ve realized we didn’t make a whole lot of sense.” He glanced at his brother. “I’ve mostly been upset because you’re the last person I expected to go behind my back.”

“I know.” Tucker’s face fell. “Shit, I know and I’m sorry. If I could change what happened, I—”

“No.” Tate waved a hand again. “I don’t want to hear any excuses. That’s not why I came here. I just came to tell you I realize I’ve been an ass lately and that you two don’t have to worry about me anymore. Someone made me see things in a different way, and I’m...bowing out gracefully and admitting defeat. If I run into either or both of you in town, I won’t make a scene.”

Neither said anything. They just stared at him as if he’d grown a third eyeball. And even though he felt like an idiot, Tate figured that was probably for the best. He’d said what he’d come to say. He’d been the bigger man. Now it was time to go.

He rounded the corner and turned for the barn doors. Stepping into the early evening light, he drew a deep breath and knew he’d done the right thing. Only he didn’t feel a whole lot better.

But the moment he spotted Mary Louise leaning against the hood of his car, studying her phone, that pressure in his chest eased. He took two steps toward her before he heard shuffling at his back, followed by his brother’s voice.

“Tate, wait.”

Drawing a breath for patience, he turned to face Tucker. Thankfully, Hannah wasn’t with him. “What?”

Unease passed over Tucker’s face as he stepped into the light and slipped his hands into the pockets of his worn jeans. “I know you don’t want to hear apologies or excuses so I’m just gonna say...I love you. You’re my brother, and I love you, and I know it doesn’t change anything but somehow I’ll find a way to make it up to you.”

Shit. He just had. Something light replaced all the anger inside Tate that had been weighing him down. Something he didn’t know how to define and wasn’t even sure he
could
define. He frowned because...yeah, he wasn’t ready to do much more just yet. “I love you, too. I just don’t really like you very much right now.”

Tucker grinned, looking more like the annoying kid brother he’d been Tate’s whole life than the man he’d grown into. “I can live with that.”

So could Tate. If nothing else, it was a start. He glanced toward the barn where Hannah was standing just inside the shadows. He wanted to tell Tucker to be better to her than he’d been, but he wasn’t there yet either. The most he could do was nod her way. She answered with a sad smile and a wave, and as Tucker turned and headed back to her, Tate took a deep breath that felt a helluva a lot like...freedom.

Mary Louise was waiting at the car with a warm smile on her pretty face when he reached her. She’d been watching him with Tucker. He could see it in her eyes. He wasn’t sure where her phone had gone, but he didn’t care. In the fading light of dusk, on the farm where he’d grown up, she looked absolutely perfect.

“Are you okay?” she asked as he drew close.

“Yeah,” he answered, meaning it. “I’m good.”

“Really?” She lifted her brows and looked up at him.

He nodded. “And I have you to thank for it.”

“I didn’t really do anything.”

“Yeah, you did. You talked some sense into me. Pretty sure my old man would say you’re the only person who’s ever been able to do that.”

A wide grin spread across her face. “Well. Yay, me, huh?”

He felt himself smiling for the first time in weeks. “Yay, you.” He moved closer, until they were only a breath apart. “I want to kiss you, Mary Louise Prager. Would that be too forward of me or would it be okay?”

Her smile wobbled, and her chest rose and fell with her increased breaths. “No. I mean, yes. I mean...I would love for you to kiss me.”

Those breathless words touched his heart in a way nothing had for a really long time. Lifting his hands to cradle her face, he leaned down and brushed his lips against hers. And the moment he did, he felt something inside him finally come to life.

They were both breathless when he drew back. Her eyes sparkled as she looked up at him, and the way she licked her lips and glanced back at his mouth made him want to kiss her all over again. But this time he wanted to do it where no one else could see. “Are you still up for feeding me?”

A wide, gorgeous smile spread across her face. “I am. How do steaks sound?”

He opened the car door for her and helped her in. “Steaks sound great.”

He closed her door, moved around the car and climbed into the driver’s seat. Just as he was about to start the ignition, Mary Louise put a hand on his arm. “Just one question, though.”

He looked at her. “Yeah?”

“Assuming you like my, uh, cooking...” She bit her lip, looking nervous and gorgeous and perfect. “I was just wondering...how do you like your eggs in the morning?”

Heat rushed through his body, electrifying him in ways he hadn’t felt in way too long. From any other woman that would have sounded dirty and presumptuous. From her, it sounded absolutely right. Letting go of the ignition, he slid a hand in her hair, unable to keep from touching her. “I think after everything you’ve done for me today, I’m the one who owes you breakfast. Hopefully in bed.”

Her eyes went all soft and dreamy the way he’d always wanted a woman to look at him. “I am not about to turn down that offer, Mr. Almost Mayor.”

Neither would he. He pulled her to him and kissed her again. And this time he didn’t care who saw.

* * * *

“So, then,” Delia said, smiling at Logan in a familiar way that tightened his stomach before glancing back at Marcus and Brittany seated across the table from them. “My father comes barreling into my bedroom, sure he heard a male voice. I shrieked and jumped off my bed, doing my best to sound shocked and appalled that he didn’t trust me and tried to push him out the door. Meanwhile, Logan here’s pinned under my bed in nothing but his boxers, trying not to make a sound because he knows if my father sees him, he’s dead.”

Marcus chuckled. Brittany rolled her eyes and tried not to smile as she sipped her wine. All Logan could do was shake his head and say, “Teenage hormones. I’ve got no excuse but that.”

Laughing, Delia leaned against him in the booth at the Italian restaurant Brittany had picked and patted his knee under the table. “I’m sure I was to blame for that. As I recall, you were nervous about my parents being home and wanted to leave long before my father rushed in. I’m the one who convinced you to stay.”

A memory of that night, when Delia had tempted him to stay with her fingers and lips, flashed in his mind. But it didn’t bring the rush of heat he’d thought it would. “So you’re the bad influence,” he said, trying not to read too much into that fact.

“I’m always the bad influence, don’t you know that?” Delia sat up and reached for her wine. “Part of the reason I left.”

“So are you back to stay?” Britanny asked.

“Yep.” Delia set her wine down. “Newly divorced and back home with the folks again. It’s like a bad country song.”

“I don’t know too many country songs that include a teacher-student romance,” Marcus muttered, lifting his wine to his lips.

Brittany must have kicked him under the table because he flinched, looked her way, and said, “Ow, that hurt.”

Brittany’s eyes widened and she angled her head toward Delia.

Frowning, Marcus looked across the table at Delia and said, “Sorry. I didn’t realize I said that out loud.”

“It’s okay.” An amused expression crossed Delia’s face, and she waved a hand. “I’ve heard it all, believe me.”

Delia seemed happy enough, but Logan couldn’t tell if it was an act, and part of him wasn’t sure if he wanted to ask if she was really okay. She’d obviously been through something big to walk out on her husband and come back to Storm. And while he was happy to see her again and was having a good time tonight, he didn’t particularly want to hear all about her sob story. At least not when he was still trying to get past his own.

“What about work?” Brittany asked. “Have you started looking for something yet?”

“Yeah, I actually put in an application at Pushing Up Daisies, but they’re only looking for something part time. I’d like to get something with more hours so I can get a place of my own sooner rather than later. I love my parents but...” She rolled her eyes. “You know how parents can be.”

“Unfortunately, I do,” Marcus muttered.

“I did notice Murphy’s is way understaffed.” She glanced toward Logan. “I left a message with your dad about it. I’ve done a ton of waitressing. Wouldn’t that be fun? You and me working there together?”

Logan’s stomach tightened, and he pictured what she was describing. But she wasn’t the girl he’d always envisioned working the bar with him. The one he’d thought would be there with him was pregnant with someone else’s kid.

His mood went south, just that fast, and he heard himself say, “Sure,” as he reached for his wine. But he didn’t mean it. And he knew from the pitying look Marcus sent him across the table that his friend sensed it too.

Delia launched into a story about her last job waiting tables at a bar in Dallas, and relieved they were on to another topic, Logan refilled his wine glass from the bottle in the middle of the table, ignoring the pointed looks Marcus kept sending him. He was doing what his friend had told him to do, right? Moving on? So what if he was drinking a little more than normal. People drank when they went out and had fun, didn’t they?

He laughed at something Delia said, laid his arm over the back of her chair, and for the rest of the evening acted like he was having the time of his life. Because that’s what people did when they moved on. It’s what Marcus and his folks and everyone had told him to do after Ginny had wrecked him. So in an attempt to push Ginny out of his head and heart forever, he forced himself to do exactly that.

And it worked. Delia smiled and flirted with him. Brittany laughed at his jokes. Even Marcus eased up and seemed to enjoy himself. Everyone had a great time. Everyone but Logan.

He hated every single minute of it.

Chapter Five

Ginny hadn’t planned to end up at the cemetery when she’d gone for a walk in the waning light of early evening, but she wasn’t surprised when she found herself standing outside the iron fence, staring through the rails toward the headstones beyond.