Casanova Cowboy (A Morgan Mallory Story) (16 page)

“Shut up
,” I said, laughing too.

We found a small coffee shop on our way back to the hotel where we sat at the counter.
It was like an old time ice cream counter with leather bar stool seats that could go in a circle, metal banding on the sides. I rested my shoes on the bar below and wrapped my hands around the thick white mug warming them.

“Um,” I said finally taking a sip. “That tastes good after our walk.”

I ordered a poached egg and toast, and Ryan had the full deal with pancakes, eggs, and sausage. It was delicious. Our waitress, Glenda, was a friendly sort, wanting to know all about us. We chatted all through our meal. She was Carmel born and raised, the good old days she said. Had raised her three daughters here too, but they’d all moved away with husbands. She’d lost her husband a year ago to a heart attack. Loved her job, met interesting folks.

Back at the hotel o
nce we loaded our stuff back into the van, we headed out. Our conversation was light and fun, both of us recounting family trips to various places. Ryan loved Big Sur and was floored by the views from Nepenthe where we sat on the deck and had a drink.

“Isn’t this amazing?” I asked as I played with the straw in my vodka tonic.

“I can see why your mom loves it, what’s not to love,” Ryan said.

The sun was warm
on my face, and I could smell the ocean. We could faintly hear the waves crashing against the rocky cliffs.

“What do you think will
happen with Karen?” I asked.

             
“Oh, I don’t know. I’d like to think it could last, but it probably won’t. I’ve had one long-distance relationship before. It didn’t work,” he answered honestly. “In a way, it never felt like we finished it, finished it the right way. We sort of left it hanging.”

I looked into his eyes
, and I knew he was referring to Carrie. It had been years since he had seen or spoken to her, and I was a bit surprised how he hung onto his feelings for her.

             
“I understand,” I said. “I think sometimes it’s hard to finish it completely. Like what do you say ‘we’re definitely over, the end’? Like the other morning when Mathew left, we didn’t finish it. He told me to call him if I changed my mind. We both know I won’t, but he left the door open.”

“Is that bad, leaving open the possibility?” he asked his right eyebrow rising.

“
In a way, I wish he would have closed it, but I understand he doesn’t know how. It’s gone on so long in so many varying degrees. And by that I probably mean my love for him. With Max it didn’t finish completely either, it just ended, neither of us willing to give anything else. In many ways I think I loved Max, or convinced myself of that, but I didn’t like him. Relationships are odd animals,” I said reflectively.

Chapter 16

When we left Nepenthe, we took our time along the coast to admire the ocean views, stopping frequently. The ruggedness of the Northern California coast along that stretch was stunning. Even with all the times I’d been down this route, it still took my breath away. I could tell Ryan almost found it surreal. Even with the time we spent dilly-dallying we still arrived at Hearst Castle in time for our tour. Again, Ryan couldn’t believe the beauty, the setting, the architecture. We were both surprised to learn that Hearst’s father had made his fortune in the Park City silver mines.

“Small world
,” he said with a smile.

             
“I don’t recall knowing that before, but I was young when I was last here and hadn’t been aware of Park City. I knew about the newspaper, but didn’t realize the family fortune started with silver,” I said.

             
We drove on to Santa Barbara after the tour, and by the time we got there, it was late. Ryan decided we should try and find a place to stay before we worried about dinner. We stopped at one motel and hotel after another, but there were no vacancies. Summer on the California coast was busy, and we hadn’t planned ahead. We finally found a motel that had one room left—with a king bed. Ryan looked at me.

“Hey
, I can deal, or you can drive. Your choice,” I said with a smirk.

             
“We’ll take it,” Ryan said, giving the motel desk clerk his credit card.

             
I tried not to laugh, but couldn’t help it. Ryan shot me a somber look. Once we had the key, we walked back to the van and got our bags. Again I laughed out loud.

             
“Cut it out,” he scolded.

             
“Oh, hell, Ryan, it’s not a big deal. Not like I’m going to rape you or something. You can build a pillow wall to keep me away, like Pat used to,” I teased as he locked the van.

He gave me a funny look.

“You know that imaginary line brothers and sisters can’t cross. ‘Not one finger over the line, or I’m telling’,” I chuckled. “Oh, and as luck would have it, right across the street’s a liquor store. Goody. Let’s get the bags into the room, and then we can go get some wine. Get you loaded and…”

“
You’re so bad,” he said, pretending to be disgusted.

             
We dropped our luggage in the room, which sort of smelled like musty Pine-Sol and walked over to the liquor store. I could feel the ocean in the air, the coolness of it, the moisture with almost a fairyland quality as the street lamps illuminated some of the particles brilliantly. The door to the liquor store beeped as we walked in. The clerk just looked at us with disinterest from his perch on his stool. Ryan wanted red wine, and I wanted white, so we grabbed one of each and a bag of potato chips. I grabbed a box of Good and Plenty too.

“You seriously like those
?” he asked.

             
“Yes,” I answered, putting them on the counter.

             
“Those are so gross,” he said pulling his lips tight.

             
“Good, you won’t ask for any then,” I chuckled.

             
The clerk moved from his stool once we put everything on the counter and glanced from Ryan to me somewhat suspiciously before he rang us up.

             
“Thirty-seven twelve,” the clerk said.

             
He was a short round bald man with a total lack of expression who smelled like cigarettes.

             
“I’ll get this,” I said. “You got the king-size bed.”

             
I laughed again, out loud, and the clerk frowned at us. Ryan ignored me and took the bag the man pushed toward him.

             
“Thanks,” I said as his cigarette-stained fingers deposited change in my hand.

             
We walked out the door, and I breathed in the salty air.

             
“Not a very friendly guy,” I said. “Oh, a wine opener. Do you have a wine opener?”

             
“I do, in the van. You’re a nut, you know that?” he asked.

             
We walked quickly back across the street as Ryan shifted the bag in his arms.

             
“A few people think so. It’s a good thing, as all the fruits and nuts are in California, didn’t you know?” I teased.

             
We stopped by his van and got the opener, then went back to the room. Ryan opened both bottles and poured us each a glass, using the water glasses from the bathroom.

             
“At least they’re glass and not plastic,” I said. “I need to get you some decent glasses to stick in your van, go with that wine opener you carry.”

             
“Didn’t know you were so particular about what you drank out of,” he said with a smile.

             
Ryan flicked on the TV and flipped through the channels until he found a sitcom. He turned the volume low as if he needed background noise. I wondered if he was nervous, us alone, a king size bed. We sat on far sides of the bed and drank our wine with the chips between us.

“So what was your favorite part,” I asked.

“How do I pick a favorite, it was all remarkable. The coast line alone is beautiful, I liked Nepenthe, thanks for pointing that out.”

“I know it’s kind of tucked back in there, easy to drive right by,” I said adjusting the pillows behind my back.

“Hearst Castle was very cool. To think people actually lived like that, so much money.”

“Right?”

We talked about the day and he said he appreciated the company. At one point, I glanced up at Ryan leaning against the headboard and was struck by how cute he was with his blond hair curling around his face; not even his sweats and T-shirt could take away from his sex appeal. I wanted to touch him, curl up against him, like I had that night in Park City, but I didn’t dare. Instead, I crawled across the bed towards him.

“Can you give me a back rub?” I asked
, wanting to feel his touch, a connection.

Again I flashed back to my room in Park City that night, how it had just happened, nothing awkward about it
. Tonight felt uncomfortable, like Karen was in the room with us. Asking him to give me a back rub was a way to get him to touch me that was not threatening. It wasn’t necessarily sexual; my grandmother rubbed our backs when we were kids, and I had loved it. Tonight, I needed that human touch, his touch.

“Sure
,” he said, setting his glass down.

             
I sat down and backed up close to him. I pulled my shirt up around my neck and unhooked my bra.

             
“Whoa,” he said in surprise.

             
I turned my head to look at him. His look of alarm made me angry.

             
“Don’t worry, I won’t turn around,” I said, irritated. “Wouldn’t want to freak you out.”

             
If I had some place else to go I would have marched out of there. Instead I whipped my head back towards the TV, crossing my arms across my chest. The bed moved as he leaned forward. He lightly ran his hand around my back while I fumed inside. I wasn’t the least bit interested in the sitcom, but as long as he was rubbing, I was going to sit there.
I don’t want this elephant in the room!
He finally stopped, and I hooked my bra and pulled my shirt down without turning around. Without looking at him I grabbed a T-shirt from my bag and went to the bathroom to get ready for bed.

I stared at my reflection.
Why was I so annoyed?
I put my sleeping T-shirt on which barely covered my underwear and wished I had full on pajamas. I brushed my teeth, and turned off the bathroom light. I yanked open the bathroom door crossing the room quickly to crawl into my side of the bed.

             
“Good night,” I said curtly, turning out my bedside light.

             
I lay down with my back to him as far as I could get on my side of the bed.

             
“Good night,” he said perplexed by my attitude.

             
I fell asleep before he shut off his light. I had a restless night, tossing and turning. When I woke early in the morning, I noticed he was in between the bedspread and the sheets, still in his sweats. My irritation from the night before returned instantly, I guess he really was afraid I might rape him. I got out of bed and filled the coffee pot in the room, banging around intentionally.

Chapter 17

It shouldn’t have bothered me that Ryan acted like he had, but it did. He didn’t have an issue sleeping with me in Park City one night, but now it was he who was taken, involved, whatever.
I wasn’t attractive to him anymore?
He’d acted like I’d wanted more from him, and I hadn’t. Acted like he needed to keep me at a distance. I had been rejected a lot lately, and his behavior pissed me off. I wasn’t very friendly from Santa Barbara to back home. I kept turning up the radio when he wanted to talk, and I knew it was annoying him. I was anxious to talk to Mom, vent my feelings.

“What is your problem?” he asked just outsid
e of Escondido.

             
“I don’t have a problem,” I answered snippily.

             
His shoulders slouched forward and he rested his forearms on the steering wheel.

             
“Really? You’ve been pissed off since we left Santa Barbara. What did I do?” he asked, exasperated.

             
“Nothing. Absolutely nothing,” I said sarcastically.

It wasn’t fair to take out my
frustrations on him, but I couldn’t seem to stop myself. It just got worse when we pulled into the driveway and Karen was waiting with my mom, the two of them sitting out by the pool. Even though Ryan brought our bags into the house and took his to the guest room, I knew he wouldn’t be staying here tonight, not with Karen and him hooking back up. I suddenly felt very tired and was looking forward to sleeping in my own bed, alone.

“
Get a cocktail,” Mom shouted. “Come join us.”

             
It was a little early in the afternoon, but I noticed Karen and Mom had a glass of wine so I poured myself a large glass of chardonnay, in a real wine glass for the first time in days, and walked out to where they were sitting on the patio. I bent down and kissed my mom.

“I missed you,” I said.

“We’ve been waiting for you guys,” Karen said.

I could tell
she was excited to have Ryan back in town, and the lonely blues swept over me again. The screen slider opened and Ryan came out of the house, looking tan and happy, a big smile spreading across his face when Karen jumped up to hug him. He kissed her and pulled a chair close to hers. Ryan sat down and held her hand, which was just icing on my already crappy mood.

“How was it,” Mom asked excitedly.

“We had a great trip down the coast with Morgan playing tour guide. San Francisco is a beautiful city with so much to do, and then Carmel and Monterey were fun,” Ryan said.

“Did you like Big Sur?”

“Yes, I really enjoyed the drive down Highway 1 from Carmel through Big Sur, all of it, how rugged the coastline is and the lack of development. We stopped at Nepenthe, very cool spot, I see why you like it,” he said smiling at Mom.

“Love it
,” I corrected, “why she loves it.”

Mom looked at me crossly.

“I have to say, it’s a spot I do love,” Mom said, softening my words.

“
Sorry you couldn’t have come,” Ryan said, leaning over and kissing Karen again. “We missed you.”

             
I shot Mom a look, and she shrugged her shoulders.
For god’s sake he had known her a little over a week, and he was missing her?
We hadn’t missed her, only he had. I caught myself several more times making smart comments, being bitchy. Ryan shot me a questioning look, which I ignored. When they decided to head out, I was relieved. Mom walked them to the gate. I stayed seated at the table. When she came back, she grabbed up my empty glass.

“More wine
, I’m guessing?” she said testily, heading into the house.

She came back
out quickly and set the glasses on the table. Her forehead was wrinkled, and I could tell she was aggravated with me.

             
“What is wrong with you? Are you jealous?” she asked, sitting down stiffly in her chair.

             
I laughed as she pulled out a cigarette, lit it, and took a drag. A long deep one, blowing it out quickly, her I’m-not-happy drag. I watched the smoke come out of her mouth and float off into the air.

“Of who?”
I asked, playing dumb.

             
“Ryan, Ryan and Karen, I don’t know. You sure had an attitude going while they were here,” she reprimanded.

             
“Yeah?” I asked, acting as if I was surprised.

             
She sat back in her chair, her right hand raised, holding her cigarette.

             
“Yes,” she said firmly. “In fact you were downright bitchy. If you hadn’t repeatedly told me otherwise, I would have guessed you were interested in Ryan.”

             
“No. Hell no, Mom, we’re friends,” I spat out. “I’m happy Karen and Ryan are having fun. He’s just acting like it’s a little more than fun. If he thinks it’s going to last, he’s fooling himself. You know Karen, she’ll move on before he knows what hit him.”

She laughed long and hard.
Her laughter made me soften, made the tension in my muscles suddenly ease. I rolled my head from side to side pulling the feeling through me.

             
“You know I’m right,” I said and chuckled.

             
She stared at me, smoking her cigarette; her eyes partially squinting because of the smoke.

             
“You look tired,” she said, the mother in her coming out.

             
“I am. We had to sleep together last night,” I said.

             
“You slept with Ryan last night?” she asked, rocking forward in her chair.

             
“Not slept that way, Mom,” I said rolling my eyes. “In fact I didn’t sleep well at all. We could only find one room, and it had a king bed. Ryan slept in his sweats between layers. He slept like a baby. Me, on the other hand, I felt tied down by the covers, like I couldn’t move.”

She started to laugh
again and didn’t stop. I watched as she laughed so hard tears ran out of her eyes. I let it go on a few minutes, perplexed by what she found so funny.

             
“What’s so god damn funny?” I finally asked.

             
“You, you are funny. The things you do. I’m sorry, it’s just funny,” she choked out.

             
“I’m so glad I can entertain you,” I said, pushing back into my chair and folding my arms across my chest, glaring at her.

             
She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, spreading mascara on one eye. I leaned toward her and wiped the smudge off. I watched as she put out her cigarette and leaned back.

             
“So do you really think it’s over between you and Mathew?” she asked with a sigh. “That’s a hard one for me to believe, you know. That boy has had a pull on you like no other.”

             
I pictured Mathew pulling away from the motel, me standing alone in the parking lot, wishing it could be different.

“Our chemistry is
undeniable, Mom, but we’re not on the same page, and maybe never were, I just wanted us to be. Mathew is always looking around the corner for that perfect girl. I get it now. I can’t put up with it. I want someone who loves me and is happy to be with me, and only me,” I said.

             
I could tell by her expression she didn’t believe me about Mathew. I didn’t blame her; I had a terrible track record where he was concerned.

              The night before Ryan left, Mom invited him for a going-away dinner, setting the dining room table, which was reserved for special dinners. Karen wasn’t able to join us as she was working until later in the evening. Mom was on one, happy to have Ryan as a guest, going all out with the meal and presentation, like she was throwing a big dinner party for someone important.

“I’m sad, you’re going,” she said. “It’s been such fun having you.”

“It’s gone quickly. I’ve had a great time. I’m not particularly excited about going back to a place that doesn’t have much waiting for me, except maybe a job.”

Mom got up from her chair and took the wine bottle out of the ice bucket.

“Maybe it’s time for a change,” she said, moving around the table, filling everyone’s glass. “You’ve moved around before; come to California. You definitely have a reason to now, with Karen. There’s a lot of construction work here, and you would have a place to stay,” Mom offered.

             
Dad got an irritated look on his face.
Ooh, obviously not something they had discussed
. I glanced at Ryan; he saw it too.

             
“It’s beautiful here, and the weather is always warm. You wouldn’t have to work in the snow anymore,” she continued.

             
“You hate it here,” Dad said with a frown.

             
Mom sat down and put her napkin in her lap.

             
“I don’t hate it. I just don’t have many friends here is all. You get to travel all the time and be with people. I’m here alone most of the time. The kids are busy, and when you are here, you don’t want to hear about my boring day,” she went on, the frustration evident in her voice.

             
I could see she’d had plenty of wine. She was in the mindset to say what she wanted to say.

             
“Come on, Mom, I spend a lot of time with you,” I protested, wanting to try and change the subject, not have Ryan in on an awkward family discussion.

Ryan sensed the tension and jumped in.

“
Patty and Steve, it’s been such fun staying with you, I really appreciate the hospitality,” Ryan said.

“It’s nothing,” Mom said
demurely. “I’m glad you could come and see new places.”

“Me too, I really enjoyed sharing some of your favorite spots in California with Morgan. San Francisco was incredible, going to the Buena Vista for an Irish coffee, the trip down Highway 1, Carmel, Nepenthe, and Hearst Castle; places Morgan tells me you’ve been to before as a family,” Ryan said.

He
’d intentionally brought up history to remind them both about good times, make them think about those places and other times. I couldn’t help but smile at him.