Coming Home Read online

  Two weeks had passed since Brett had walked away, two long, painful weeks. About as long as their brief relationship had actually lasted, Cade noted. He’d expected Brett to freak out at some point. He just hadn’t expected it so soon.

  Remembering the rage and disgust that had spilled from Brett’s dark eyes that night, Cade felt his face contort in pain. As he’d stood there, facing Brett’s anger, he’d known he’d lost. There was nothing he could say or do to dispel that kind of resentment, that kind of hatred. When Brett said he was done, he was done and Cade couldn’t summon the strength to fight any more.

  Over the last two weeks he’d realized this was the first time he’d felt this kind of hurt. He’d never really done serious relationships. There’d never been anyone who’d held his interest long enough. But Brett—sure he’d always felt stirrings of lust toward the guy, but he hadn’t realized his feelings went much deeper than that. He could see it now, he could feel it now. He loved Brett Miller, plain and simple. And he couldn’t stay here when he felt like this, not when he had to face Brett every day while he tried to do his work.

  His throat tightened and he swallowed thickly. For a second there he’d believed they had a chance. When Brett had surrendered the way he had Cade’s heart had taken a giant leap. He’d been sure for so long that Brett was a no-go, off-limits when it came to sex. In one night Brett had dispelled that belief as he’d allowed Cade to undress him and make love to him the way no woman could. And then a couple of weeks later Brett had ripped the hope away, taking it with him as he’d disappeared into the dark.

  “Bastard,” Cade thought to himself, squeezing the wooden railing with his hands and feeling a splinter pierce his skin. Son of a goddamn bitch.

  Along with the pain had come a boatload of rage that bubbled to the surface at various intervals throughout the days. He kept a tight leash on it. It wouldn’t be fair to Jimmy or the two boys to let his anger spill over into his work. And it wasn’t like he could let loose at Brett. In the two weeks that had trundled by not a word had passed between them. As a matter of fact, they’d barely seen each other. Cade couldn’t blame the distance on Brett. Before, it had been Brett who’d done the avoiding. Now not only was Brett avoiding Cade, but Cade was avoiding Brett right back. The thought of facing him made Cade sick to his stomach. He couldn’t do it. He didn’t have the energy.

  As soon as he got back to New York he’d have his lawyers draw up the papers to sell his half of the ranch. If he wasn’t here, he wasn’t keeping it. There was no point in hanging onto something he couldn’t have.

  A coyote howled in the distance and he lifted his head. A sudden desperation to get out of the house flooded him and he turned to head back into the kitchen. He’d take a drive around Steeplecrest, say goodbye to the old spots he hadn’t taken the chance to re-explore since getting back.

  Grabbing the keys from the hall table, he jogged down to the car and pulled open the door. Three months in town and he was still driving a rental. He grimaced as he turned the key in the ignition. He hadn’t wanted to tempt fate by buying a car. Now he could see that it sure as hell wouldn’t have made a difference.

  ***

  Rick hadn’t said anything to anyone. It had taken two weeks for Brett to believe that, but now he could finally breathe again. The guys were all acting the same as ever around him and from what Mitch had told him that morning, Rick had left town on Monday. He was safe. No one would ever know. He could go back to normal. So could Cade. They’d be able to work with each other again. Just work. Sex would only complicate things and Brett couldn’t bring himself to go there again.

  As he brushed down one of the horses he realized he felt like himself again. He wasn’t fully there. He sure as hell wasn’t happy. But he felt like Brett Miller and that’s all that mattered.

  He was walking the horse back into her stall when Jimmy’s voice reached his ears. He was spouting curses beneath his breath as he stamped into the stables.

  “What’s this about Cade?” he demanded, scowling at Brett.

  Brett stepped out of the stall and closed the door. “What about him?”

  “What about him?” Jimmy said as if Brett should know the answer. “He’s going back to New York tomorrow. Not coming back. That’s ‘what about him’.”

  “Tomorrow?” Brett repeated the word out loud and then said it twice more in his mind. Cade was leaving tomorrow, jetting off to New York with no plan to come back. Giving his head a quick shake, Brett waited, but it refused to sink in.

  He turned from the stall and looked at Jimmy. “You sure about that?” he asked, narrowing his eyes. There had to be some kind of mistake. Cade’s stubborn ass wouldn’t give up this easily. He wouldn’t hand over the ranch without putting up a fight.

  But the old man was nodding as he leaned against the stable door. “He told me himself.” Holding his hat to his head, Jimmy frowned. “He didn’t say anything to you?”

  Brett stiffened and for a moment he couldn’t speak. “Uh, no,” he grunted eventually, striding past Jimmy into the yard.

  “I gotta say I’m surprised,” Jimmy continued and Brett grimaced as he realized the old man wasn’t about to let the subject drop. “He’s always been a decent kid. Didn’t think he had it in him to leave us in a rut like this.”

  The urge to defend Cade swept through Brett and he gritted his teeth. He didn’t owe the guy shit, not after what he’d pulled him into. “We managed before,” he said instead, keeping his tone neutral. “We can do it again.”

  “Yeah, we managed. But the horses are in love with that kid, every goddamn one of ’em.” Jimmy heaved a sigh, his anger replaced with disappointment. “I don’t want to let Paul anywhere near Marci. He’s weak enough with the horses as it is, but with Marci he’d wet his pants.”

  “We’ll figure something out.”

  “We better.”

  Brett waited for Jimmy to walk away before crossing the yard. He stared out at the pastures, watched the cattle nudge one another and munch on the grass. He waited for the relief to wash through him, to ease the ache in his shoulders. It didn’t. If anything, the tension increased.

  Cade was leaving. The news should have filled him with respite, the sense of being free. Instead, his stomach rolled and his fists clenched.

  Regret? Was that what he was feeling? He had a hard time getting his head around the fact that the situation had come to this. Maybe if he’d handled things better, handled himself better, he and Cade would still be able to work together, throwing banter back and forth like two regular guys instead of bitter ex-lovers.

  Ex-lovers. He winced at the term and felt even sicker when he realized the route their relationship had taken. It was wrong, should never have happened. He didn’t want Cade that way and he couldn’t figure out what had possessed him to think he did.

  “Grief plays tricks on people,” he remembered his father telling him after Jimmy’s wife had died all those years ago and the man had hit the bottle hard. “It screws with your head.”

  With the sun beating down on his back, Brett wiped the back of his arm over his forehead and turned back toward the yard. A sudden longing for a swim struck him and he changed his direction, ambling toward the garage. He’d take the four-wheeler up to the creek and spend a couple of hours in the water. Maybe a shock of cold current would pull him out of this funk.

  Later that afternoon, after a long swim, Brett climbed out of the water and dragged his fingers through his hair, squeezing out the wetness. The sun’s rays would dry it quickly enough, he thought as he pulled on his jeans. He glanced at one of the boulders by the bank and, as a wave of exhaustion rolled over him, he decided to lie out for a while and enjoy the heat before heading back.

  He was standing over the rock when he heard the clattering of hooves approaching. He looked up, every muscle in his body going rigid as Marci’s mahogany coat galloped into sight, the rich color shimmering beneath the sun. Swallowing hard, he lifted his gaze a notch and faced Cade. The ma
n’s eyes were shaded beneath the brim of his hat but Brett felt his gaze piercing into his skin, sharp as a knife. A heated chill shuddered through him as droplets of water trickled down his bare chest. He wished he’d pulled on his shirt so he wouldn’t feel so exposed.

  A good ten feet away, Cade tugged on Marci’s reins and his heels dug into her sides. Brett cursed himself for noticing the strength in the man’s thighs as they clamped around the mare’s large body, forcing her to halt.

  When Marci came to a stop, her brown eyes which were so like Dixie’s glared at him almost accusingly. Did she know? Brett wondered, meeting her stare. Did she know he was the reason her new master was taking off?

  As the silence dragged on, Brett forced his gaze back up to Cade and cleared his throat. “Hear you’re leaving,” he said flatly, folding his arms over his chest.

  Cade paused before his mouth twisted in a bitter smile. “First thing in the morning,” he said, his tone clear but low. “Guess you can start counting down the hours.”

  The acidic words cut through Brett and his gut clenched painfully. “What about the ranch?” he forced out.

  Cade’s mouth hardened. “I’m selling.” His legs tightened around Marci as she tried to move again. “It’s yours if you want it.”

  “Just like that?”

  Cocking his head to the side, Cade nodded. “Yeah, just like that.”

  The bitterness in his tone had faded to resignation and Brett’s throat burned as he watched Cade back up the horse. Despite the anger he still felt toward him, Brett hadn’t intended on hurting the guy. But he clearly had. The raw pain that emanated from Cade curled around Brett and nearly brought him to his knees.

  He wanted to comfort him, to tell him he was sorry. Instead, he stood with his feet rooted to the ground and watched in silence as Cade and the horse disappeared into the trees. Deep down he knew he wouldn’t see Cade again before he left. The knowledge that should have brought truckloads of relief made him sick to his stomach.

  Slowly, he pulled on his shirt, leaving it unbuttoned as he climbed onto the four-wheeler and started back toward the ranch. He didn’t say anything to Jimmy or the two boys before heading into the house for the night. He didn’t eat, just went straight to bed.

  He was still awake in the early hours of dawn. He heard the purr of Cade’s car in the distance as it drove away.

  Chapter Fifteen

  At the window table of an exclusive Fifth Avenue restaurant, Jessica tapped her pen against her notepad and watched the stream of shoppers pass her by. She stole a quick glance at her watch as a waiter refilled her glass with mineral water. Ugh, she’d been alone for over thirty minutes and if Cade didn’t show up soon she’d have to walk out, looking like the stupid broad who’d been stood up by a date. If Cade humiliated her like that in one of her favorite lunchtime spots, she’d kick him all the way back to Texas.

  Finally, he appeared at the maître d’s side and his sheepish grin softened her slightly. She relaxed into her seat and casually lifted one leg over the other, admiring his designer suit and loose-limbed walk. He didn’t look like a cowboy anymore and a twinge of regret stung her. Delicious as he appeared in Armani, his cowboy hat and faded jeans were what really made her melt.

  “You’re late,” she said as he sat opposite her and took a menu from the maître d’s hand. “He’ll order now,” she told the waiter, still glaring at Cade.

  He raised an amused eyebrow at her clipped tones and then ordered his usual. When the maitre d’ whisked off toward the kitchens, Cade looked at her.

  “I’m sorry,” he said, sounding genuine as he reached for her hand. “Work is kicking my ass.”

  She harrumphed, maintaining the façade of irritation when underneath it all Cade’s tired face and quiet voice unnerved her. She couldn’t even remember the last time his dimple had made an appearance. “I suppose I should be grateful to see you at all,” she added drily, noting how quickly his gaze dropped from hers.

  Studying the tablecloth as if it were the most intricate piece of art he’d ever laid eyes on, he asked, “Why’s that?”

  “You’ve been back in town for almost a month and I’ve hardly seen you,” she reminded him, leaning forward in her chair. “And when we do see each other, you’re so distant. I’m worried about you.”

  His gaze flickered to hers and then returned to the table. “I’m fine, Jess. Getting back into the swing of things ain’t easy.”

  She squeezed the hand that held hers. “I know that. Of course it’s not easy. But…” She trailed off, not certain she wanted to finish the sentence. If she did they’d get into another fight. She had a feeling that was why he was avoiding her. He didn’t want to talk about what he needed to talk about—Brett. “I think you came back too soon,” she said eventually and sighed as he tugged his hand from hers.

  “Don’t start this again, Jess,” he said, tone ragged with exhaustion. He looked up at her and the dullness that shaded his usually bright eyes broke her heart. “This is where I belong, I know it.”

  She shook her head. “No, honey, you belong on that ranch. This city is all wrong for you, I see that now.” At his continued silence she changed her angle and gestured to the clothes he wore. “Look me in the eye and tell me you don’t hate that suit. Go on, I dare you.”

  Annoyance clouded over his defeated eyes and she felt a little better at the sign of life.

  “I’m not going back,” he said clearly. “And you need to drop it. This shit is getting old.”

  She hesitated. Then, straightening, she hooked her arm over the back of her chair and tipped her head to the side. “Okay, I’ll drop it. But you need to do something for me first.”

  He lifted a hand for her to continue. “What?”

  “Tell me you don’t think about him,” she said simply, hoping the challenge in her tone would knock some sense into him. “Tell me you don’t spend every minute of the day wondering what he’s doing, wondering if he’s thinking about you.”

  The moment the words left her mouth she ached to grab them back and stuff them down her throat. She stiffened in her chair, watching Cade’s face contort in pain. Why she had to be so forward on things like this, she didn’t know. Her harsh say-it-like-it-is attitude stood by her in the workplace, but this was one moment when she wished she’d spent more of her childhood developing her sensitive side.

  “Cade,” she whispered, reaching across the table for his arm. He jerked away from her touch and the agony that flared in the depths of his blue eyes had tears burning in her throat. “Don’t leave,” she pleaded as he pushed his chair back, the legs squealing across the wooden flooring. “I’m sorry, I promise I won’t—”

  Anger battled the pain in his eyes as he glared down at her, face still twisted. “Leave it, Jess,” he snarled, grabbing his jacket from the back of the chair. “I’ll see you around.”

  She watched him stride out of the restaurant, feeling about as helpful in this situation as a damn goldfish. The maitre d’ arrived at the table with Cade’s iced tea. The man glanced from her to the empty seat.

  “Please cancel his order,” she said politely, wishing the waiter didn’t regard her with those pity-filled eyes. “It’s just me today.”

  As he nodded and backed away, she propped her elbow on the table and rested her chin in her hand. She had to do something about Cade. She cared too much about him to leave him alone.

  A thought formed in her mind over lunch, growing bigger and more powerful with each bite of her creamy risotto. Glancing at her cell that rested beside her plate, she wondered what her boss would say when she asked for another couple of days off. She’d make up an event, an important family occasion or something along those lines. She definitely wouldn’t tell him what part of the country she was flying to. If he knew she was heading back to Texas for the third time in as many months, he’d probably tell her to move there.

  ***

  Less than a week later, Jessica was following the dusty road that wound a pat
h from the ranch to the town of Steeplecrest. The old man up at the stables had told her she’d find Brett at the local bar. She took the turnoff for the town and drove slowly along the main street, peering at the store fronts in search of a bar. She found Billy’s at the end of the street and pulled up in the lot outside.

  “Well, here goes nothing,” she muttered under her breath, leaving the red Beemer behind—the same car she’d rented last time.

  A low wolf whistle drew her attention to a group of beefy guys who looked like they belonged in the NFL. She smiled and shrugged lightly as she brushed past them into the bar. Another time, another place. Tonight she was here for one man only.

  When she stepped inside the bar she nearly choked as a combination of cigar smoke, body heat and cheap perfume rushed up her nostrils. Clearing her throat, she worked a path through the crowd and finally reached the bar that was covered in scratches and water rings.

  “Hey there, darlin’,” the bartender greeted her, shouting over the country music which blared from the stereo system. “What can I get you?”

  “Rum and coke,” she said, smiling up at his handsome face. She watched him fix her drink as she fished in her purse for some change. “Do you know Brett Miller?” she asked when he set her glass in front of her.

  “Sure I do.”

  “Is he here tonight?”

  He jerked his head to the right and she glanced down the bar. About three people down Brett sat on one of the stools nursing a brandy. He looked miserable as hell.

  She turned back to the bartender and winked. “Thanks, honey,” she said, sidling along the bar.

  “Anytime.”

  Forcing her way to Brett proved more difficult than getting to the bar had been and she soon figured out where the problem lay. Two chesty microskirt-wearing blondes stood on either side of Brett, thrusting their boobs in his face and begging for his attention. Noting the non-interest in Brett’s dull eyes, she couldn’t help but grin. These girls needed to take a hint.