Going long boys of fall, p.2
Going Long: Boys of Fall, page 2
She’d ended up sharing a business instead.
Three years later, she and Paige were partners, the feed store was turning a tidy profit and she was sexy, single and free. Hell, two out of three wasn’t bad. At least her yoga classes kept her flexible for all the sex she wasn’t having. But that might change someday. A girl could dream, right?
Paige made a noise in her throat. “I do know that, but it’s just not natural to get on that well with an ex. I mean, y’all could grab a pizza together and not even give each other the side eye. That’s just flat-out wrong.”
Laughing, Charlene hopped up on the stool behind the counter and crossed her legs before pulling her clipboard onto her lap. “What’s wrong with it? I’ve known Colt since high school.”
And Colt’s little sister, Hollie. And Wade.
Thinking about him made her nervous for more reason than one. Her whole family was heavily superstitious, avoiding black cats and not stepping under ladders, and she half suspected musing about Wade might make him appear.
Besides, thoughts of Wade led to thoughts of Wade’s eyes, that faded denim blue that crackled to life as easily as his sexy songs crackled through her radio. Wade’s lips, crooked and oh-so-soft. And Wade’s hands, broad with blunt-tipped fingers that had cradled her cheeks so tenderly the one and only time they’d kissed.
“You’re divorced. That means you’re supposed to hate each other’s—well, hello there. Speak of the very fine devil.” Paige’s voice took on that honeyed quality she adopted as easily as the slight twang she’d developed after moving to the area years ago from New York. Paige might’ve been born a Yankee, but it was impossible to tell when she didn’t want that fact known. “Whatcha doin’ over here this time of day, Mr. Bennett? Your partner already called in an order.”
“Paige, you’ve known me what, six years now? I think we can dispense with the Mr. stuff.” Colt turned his easy grin on Charlene. Only someone who knew him as well as she did would be able to discern the tension around his eyes and mouth. “You had lunch yet?”
Charlene sat up straighter and tried to mentally scrub the Wade-induced flush from her cheeks. Especially when she was face-to-face with his older brother. It wasn’t a new predicament to find herself in, but the whole brother-vs-brother thing in her head was getting old. Not that there had ever been any real contest. Colt had first been her boyfriend, then a few years after high school, the man who had offered her forever.
Wade had just kissed her to satisfy some competition thing he’d had going with Colt—or heck, maybe he’d lost a bet—before he left town for good.
Whatever Wade’s reasons, that momentary lapse in judgment on her part had caused her a whole lot of trouble over the years. Never mind the fantasies of going further than kissing instigated by that one stolen moment. Her future mother-in-law had witnessed the tail end of it, and had perennially doubted Charlene throughout the length of her marriage to her eldest son. She and Wade had never been alone for more than a few minutes for the five years she and Colt had been married, but it hadn’t mattered. The die was cast. She was the scarlet woman, minus the A on her chest.
Amazing what repercussions a dumbass move at seventeen could have on someone’s entire life.
She cleared her throat and refocused on Colt’s face. “No. I haven’t. You got something cooking?” He had to, because as friendly as they were, they usually didn’t have impromptu lunch dates.
Something was up. If the way he kept cracking his jaw meant anything, it was something big.
“Sure do. I’m craving some of your mama’s fajitas something fierce.” Colt slid his grin Paige’s way. “Hey, why don’t you join us?”
The out-of-left-field invitation to Paige seemed to knock Colt off his stride as much as it did Paige. They were all friends, and friends ate lunch together, but Colt’s stiff-shouldered appearance suggested more was at work here than the simple sharing of a meal.
“It’s the middle of the day, Mr. Bennett.”
“Call me Colt, all right?” His good-natured smile was fading fast. “Come on, can’t you two take a break? Maybe let Steve the stockboy run the register for an hour?”
“His name is just Steve, not Steve the stockboy, and he does many other vital tasks ‘round here.” Paige rolled her eyes and elbowed Charlene. “Go on and get this guy out of here, would you? Some of us can’t take off for long lunches and margies.”
Colt crossed his arms over his massive chest. “Yeah, and that someone isn’t you, since you’re the boss and can do whatever you damn well please.”
Paige’s golden brown eyes flashed with a rare show of temper. “Maybe that’s how you run your business, but it’s not how I run mine.” With a swish of her hips, she headed into the back room. Then she leaned out and called to Charlene, “See? Flat-out wrong.”
“What’s her problem?” Colt leaned an arm on the counter. “I just wanted to take you ladies to lunch.”
“I think she’s sick of Mexican food or something.” Shaking her head, Charlene sighed and set aside her clipboard.
Unless Charlene was very mistaken, she was pretty sure her best friend resented Colt’s seemingly easygoing approach toward work. Paige had scrabbled for every nickel since she was a kid raised by a single mother. While Colt hadn’t been born with a silver spoon either, he’d always given off an air of indulgence that transcended his bank balance. Both before and after his brief stint in the NFL, he’d acted as if he never worried about money. Though he now spent long hours getting dirty working with his horses, he still retained the bearing of a casually rich man who rarely lifted a finger.
Still, it was odd for Paige to get irritated so easily. Normally she had a sunny disposition that alternately made Charlene envious or annoyed, depending on Charlene’s own level of caffeine imbalance that day.
“What about you?” Colt asked. “Are you off Mexican too or can we go get some lunch?”
Taking off for lunch would mean long hours tonight on inventory after the yoga class she was scheduled to teach. She’d hoped to maybe head down to the lake to cool off. A midnight swim sounded fun. Perhaps her friends Lela or Annabelle—AJ now—would be up for a dip too. Late June in Texas meant lots of cutoffs and low-cut tops and swimming whenever possible.
But hell, now she was starving. She’d just have to swim tomorrow.
“I’m never going to be off Mexican, Colton. One hundred percent born and bred, remember?” Offering him a grin to break the tension caused by Paige’s abrupt exit, she bent to grab her purse. “I’m up for some of mama’s chimichangas. Oh, and ooh, deep fried ice cream. Screw my diet.”
Colt grinned and passed a hand over his closely-shorn dark hair. “Now you’re talking. It’s probably better Paige didn’t come anyway.”
She was tempted to ask why, then decided she didn’t want to risk ruining her digestion. Angst never went well with her mama’s cooking.
Half an hour later, they faced each other across one of the brightly-patterned tablecloths in her mama’s restaurant and scarfed down fajitas and chimichangas while they regaled each other with tales from work. They didn’t see each other that often anymore, maybe once or twice a month, but they always slipped into conversation without trouble. But today Colt clearly had something on his mind beyond the youngest Daly girl’s riding lessons, though he wouldn’t spit it out no matter how much she poked and prodded.
Then a disturbing thought occurred to her. “Is it Coach?”
Colt blinked his unnaturally long dark lashes. “Is Coach what?”
“He’s okay, right?”
“Aside from having a serious heart attack and bypass surgery? Uh yeah.”
She blew out a breath. “That’s not what I meant. I know all that. Did something new happen? Is his rehabilitation not going well?”
“Why would you think that?”
“Because you’re acting weird.”
Colt’s tightened lips smoothed out into a facsimile of a smile. “Am I now?” He leaned back in the booth. “Here I thought we were having a pleasant lunch.”
“We are, but something’s up with you. You should just tell me what and not make me guess.”
“Can’t a guy just want to have lunch with a woman he cares about?”
Charlene rolled her eyes, unable to believe she’d ever fallen for that charm he put on as easily as he tugged on his khakis. Not that it wasn’t very effective, but it was also transparent as hell when you knew where to look. “I’m your ex-wife. We’re not just buddies.”
“No. You’re right. Which is why I—” Colt broke off as her cell buzzed with an incoming text. “Go ahead and get that.”
“I’ll be just a second,” she said.
As soon as she glimpsed the message from her friend Lela, she realized why Colt was acting so damn fidgety.
“I’m down at Sally’s for lunch and just heard a rumor that Wade’s back in town. Wanted to give you a heads-up if you don’t already know. Do you know? If so, why didn’t you tell me?”
Charlene smiled in spite of the hummingbirds fluttering to life inside her belly. Yet again her superstitious nature had been proved right. She’d been on edge, worrying that even thinking of Wade might conjure his presence, and he’d already been back in Quinn.
And Colt had danced around the subject without saying a damn thing.
Gritting her teeth, Charlene typed a response. “First I’m hearing about it. But I’ll get the scoop and clue you in ASAP.”
“You better. Think we’ll need Ben & Jerry’s tonight?” Before Charlene could respond, Lela sent another text. “Never mind. I need to refresh my supply anyway.”
Charlene suppressed a sympathetic smile. With Lela’s ex-boyfriend, Tucker, and the rest of the guys from the high school championship team back in town due to Coach’s heart attack, Lela was revisiting her own high school heartbreak.
Difference was Charlene had no intention of spending any more time with Wade than necessary. She’d untangled herself from the Bennett boys years ago, and she wasn’t about to climb astride that prickly haystack one more time.
Charlene sent back another quick text. “Okay, sounds good. Talk to you later. Oh, and don’t forget the Chunky Monkey.” She set aside her phone and reached for her lemonade. A long sip later, she wasn’t any closer to knowing how to broach the subject with Colt.
It wasn’t a thing. It honestly wasn’t. So she’d kissed Wade. Or he’d kissed her. Big whoop. It had happened over twelve years ago. Ancient, forgettable history.
So why was her heart thudding in her ears like she’d just finished an incline workout on the treadmill?
“All right, I’m done stalling.” Colt pushed aside his demolished plate of fajitas and braced his massive forearms on the table. He still had his linebacker’s physique, that was for sure. “My brother’s headed back to see Coach.”
She nodded, her reply turning to dust that clogged her throat. His brother. Which meant this held much more significance for him than it did for her. She cared about Wade—he’d been her brother-in-law for five years, after all, and her own brother Rafe’s best friend for years before that—but his arrival in town affected Colt so much more.
And this bystander would just stay safely on the sidewalk until the Wade Parade finished passing through town.
“Uh, how do you feel about that?”
“How should I feel?” He leaned back and shoved a hand through his hair. “I’ve barely seen the guy in the past decade. We hardly even talk at Christmas. Hell, I got a fucking divorce, and he didn’t even send as much as an ‘I’m sorry’ but here he is, running back for Coach.” Before she could reply, he held up a hand. “I know that was a dick thing to say.”
“Yeah, kinda. A divorce isn’t a death.”
“Tell that to my lawyer.” Though he said it with a cheeky grin, she didn’t find it particularly amusing. Especially since she’d asked for a paltry amount of alimony in spite of her own attorney advising her to demand much more. She’d certainly had a case, since she’d put in so many hours on the Bennett farm. But all she’d wanted was to be done.
Now it felt like she was being sucked back into Bennett drama, and she’d forgotten her hip waders.
“Sorry,” he said, heaving out a breath. “You know I don’t mean that.”
“I don’t know what you mean. I also don’t know what you expect me to say about Wade. I’m happy he’s coming back,” she hastened to add. “I’m glad for you and your folks and Hollie, and especially for Coach. They were close. I think it’ll do him some good to have all the old team reunited.”
“Yeah. You’re right. It will. My parents are overjoyed. He called them and Hollie to let them know he was on his way.” Colt’s gaze drifted above her head to the framed photos on the wall of her mama’s favorite singers. She had eclectic taste, so they ranged from José José to Elvis. “You think Rosa will put Wade’s picture up here someday?”
She didn’t know why it made her laugh—or why the sound caught in her chest, like a breath she couldn’t fully take. “I’m not sure she’s ever even heard his music.”
“Sure she has,” he said easily. “We used to talk about him. She asked me once if he would come play a set here sometime.” He looked down at his hands. “I had to tell her he rarely returned my calls, so I couldn’t call and ask.”
“Colt,” she began, but he didn’t let her finish.
“You have to help me,” he said, leaning forward.
“Me?” She sprung backwards, pressing her spine to the back of the booth as if she could evade the urgency in his expression. “How can I help you?”
Surely he didn’t want her to intercede on his behalf with his brother. If so, how awkward would that be? She had never told him about the kiss, but she’d always assumed he knew. His mother certainly hadn’t been shy about making insinuations that she’d tell Colt what had happened the second Charlene stepped out of line. But perhaps she never had.
Or maybe he simply didn’t think it mattered anymore. Ancient history, remember?
Cripes, she was acting like a junior high girl instead of a divorced woman of the world. Wade had probably kissed hundreds—maybe thousands—of women in the interim since their all-too-brief lip lock. Women trembled at the sound of his voice and tossed lacy underthings on the stage when he crooned. She was nothing to him. Less than nothing.
A memory. A mistake. A girl he’d forgotten.
“I think he resented me going into the NFL. I don’t know, maybe he thought he should’ve had a shot.” Colt sighed. “That if I hadn’t been there taking the glory, there would’ve been more room for him.”
Of course. She wasn’t even a factor. Not that she truly believed she could’ve come between the two men for even a second, but sometimes her thoughts turned fanciful and she imagined that maybe Wade had avoided Quinn because of her. Perhaps seeing her hurt, just a little. They’d come so close to having a chance at something, back when it had seemed like everything she wanted was in reach. Even if it meant risking it all.
Charlene swallowed and toyed with the napkin on her lap. After her papa’s early death, her mama had warned her to stay away from dreamers like Wade, because they’d never be able to take care of her and her future kids. She needed someone she could count on to be a stable provider, like Colt.
Colt, who’d aimed toward professional football from the time he was a kid.
Colt, who had divorced her when he’d realized what she had known for too long—any spark between them had vanished after she’d miscarried the baby that had led to their shotgun wedding. Besides, she didn’t need anyone to provide for her. She was doing just fine on her own.
But if Wade had ever truly looked her way, she wouldn’t have cared about her mama’s admonition. She would’ve climbed on the back of his beat-up Harley and ridden off into that dust-encrusted sunset with him, because she could see the future in his eyes.
Or she had, once. So long ago. Back when possibilities had stretched in front of her like a ribbon, and she couldn’t make the spool unfurl fast enough.
“You think he hasn’t been around home much for over a decade because he resented your success in the NFL? He’s had some success of his own, you know.”
“I do know, and I’m happy for him. There’s something, Char. Don’t know what, but we used to be close. You used to be close to him too.”
Yep, there went that dusty sensation in her throat. Any minute she’d start choking. “He was Rafe’s friend first.”
Rafe hadn’t done much better than she had after Wade had left town with his G.E.D. and a fistful of ambition, set on chasing fame and fortune. For two kids who hadn’t lived in Quinn long, Wade had been a lifeline. They’d lost their father shortly before moving, and then they’d lost their first real friend.
Of course she’d still had Colt and her other friends on the cheerleading squad, but Wade’s absence had created a hole for her and Rafe. Not to mention Wade’s little sister Hollie, who idolized her big brother and collected every news clipping about him. And apparently Colt had dealt with a hole of his own as well.
“He was your friend too,” Colt insisted. “You had a bond, something special.”
“Not that special or he wouldn’t have left town without warning,” she snapped, almost as surprised as Colt seemed to be about the bitterness in her tone.
“I think he needed to go more than he needed to stay. That wasn’t about us.”
“How do you know that, since you don’t know why he’s stayed gone?”
Colt tipped back his head to stare at the bright orange ceiling. Minute stress fractures marred the paint. Her mama adored Rosa’s and worked her fingers to the bone—today was the first day she’d taken off in weeks, and that was only because she’d finally hired a new manager—but there was no denying the restaurant had seen better days. It needed a couple of coats of paint, maybe some new tablecloths and chairs.
Charlene fiddled with her napkin. Helping her mother gather the funds to spiff up the restaurant was what she needed to focus on, not Wade Bennett. That ship had sailed so long ago that she barely even remembered when he’d claimed space at her dock.
Three years later, she and Paige were partners, the feed store was turning a tidy profit and she was sexy, single and free. Hell, two out of three wasn’t bad. At least her yoga classes kept her flexible for all the sex she wasn’t having. But that might change someday. A girl could dream, right?
Paige made a noise in her throat. “I do know that, but it’s just not natural to get on that well with an ex. I mean, y’all could grab a pizza together and not even give each other the side eye. That’s just flat-out wrong.”
Laughing, Charlene hopped up on the stool behind the counter and crossed her legs before pulling her clipboard onto her lap. “What’s wrong with it? I’ve known Colt since high school.”
And Colt’s little sister, Hollie. And Wade.
Thinking about him made her nervous for more reason than one. Her whole family was heavily superstitious, avoiding black cats and not stepping under ladders, and she half suspected musing about Wade might make him appear.
Besides, thoughts of Wade led to thoughts of Wade’s eyes, that faded denim blue that crackled to life as easily as his sexy songs crackled through her radio. Wade’s lips, crooked and oh-so-soft. And Wade’s hands, broad with blunt-tipped fingers that had cradled her cheeks so tenderly the one and only time they’d kissed.
“You’re divorced. That means you’re supposed to hate each other’s—well, hello there. Speak of the very fine devil.” Paige’s voice took on that honeyed quality she adopted as easily as the slight twang she’d developed after moving to the area years ago from New York. Paige might’ve been born a Yankee, but it was impossible to tell when she didn’t want that fact known. “Whatcha doin’ over here this time of day, Mr. Bennett? Your partner already called in an order.”
“Paige, you’ve known me what, six years now? I think we can dispense with the Mr. stuff.” Colt turned his easy grin on Charlene. Only someone who knew him as well as she did would be able to discern the tension around his eyes and mouth. “You had lunch yet?”
Charlene sat up straighter and tried to mentally scrub the Wade-induced flush from her cheeks. Especially when she was face-to-face with his older brother. It wasn’t a new predicament to find herself in, but the whole brother-vs-brother thing in her head was getting old. Not that there had ever been any real contest. Colt had first been her boyfriend, then a few years after high school, the man who had offered her forever.
Wade had just kissed her to satisfy some competition thing he’d had going with Colt—or heck, maybe he’d lost a bet—before he left town for good.
Whatever Wade’s reasons, that momentary lapse in judgment on her part had caused her a whole lot of trouble over the years. Never mind the fantasies of going further than kissing instigated by that one stolen moment. Her future mother-in-law had witnessed the tail end of it, and had perennially doubted Charlene throughout the length of her marriage to her eldest son. She and Wade had never been alone for more than a few minutes for the five years she and Colt had been married, but it hadn’t mattered. The die was cast. She was the scarlet woman, minus the A on her chest.
Amazing what repercussions a dumbass move at seventeen could have on someone’s entire life.
She cleared her throat and refocused on Colt’s face. “No. I haven’t. You got something cooking?” He had to, because as friendly as they were, they usually didn’t have impromptu lunch dates.
Something was up. If the way he kept cracking his jaw meant anything, it was something big.
“Sure do. I’m craving some of your mama’s fajitas something fierce.” Colt slid his grin Paige’s way. “Hey, why don’t you join us?”
The out-of-left-field invitation to Paige seemed to knock Colt off his stride as much as it did Paige. They were all friends, and friends ate lunch together, but Colt’s stiff-shouldered appearance suggested more was at work here than the simple sharing of a meal.
“It’s the middle of the day, Mr. Bennett.”
“Call me Colt, all right?” His good-natured smile was fading fast. “Come on, can’t you two take a break? Maybe let Steve the stockboy run the register for an hour?”
“His name is just Steve, not Steve the stockboy, and he does many other vital tasks ‘round here.” Paige rolled her eyes and elbowed Charlene. “Go on and get this guy out of here, would you? Some of us can’t take off for long lunches and margies.”
Colt crossed his arms over his massive chest. “Yeah, and that someone isn’t you, since you’re the boss and can do whatever you damn well please.”
Paige’s golden brown eyes flashed with a rare show of temper. “Maybe that’s how you run your business, but it’s not how I run mine.” With a swish of her hips, she headed into the back room. Then she leaned out and called to Charlene, “See? Flat-out wrong.”
“What’s her problem?” Colt leaned an arm on the counter. “I just wanted to take you ladies to lunch.”
“I think she’s sick of Mexican food or something.” Shaking her head, Charlene sighed and set aside her clipboard.
Unless Charlene was very mistaken, she was pretty sure her best friend resented Colt’s seemingly easygoing approach toward work. Paige had scrabbled for every nickel since she was a kid raised by a single mother. While Colt hadn’t been born with a silver spoon either, he’d always given off an air of indulgence that transcended his bank balance. Both before and after his brief stint in the NFL, he’d acted as if he never worried about money. Though he now spent long hours getting dirty working with his horses, he still retained the bearing of a casually rich man who rarely lifted a finger.
Still, it was odd for Paige to get irritated so easily. Normally she had a sunny disposition that alternately made Charlene envious or annoyed, depending on Charlene’s own level of caffeine imbalance that day.
“What about you?” Colt asked. “Are you off Mexican too or can we go get some lunch?”
Taking off for lunch would mean long hours tonight on inventory after the yoga class she was scheduled to teach. She’d hoped to maybe head down to the lake to cool off. A midnight swim sounded fun. Perhaps her friends Lela or Annabelle—AJ now—would be up for a dip too. Late June in Texas meant lots of cutoffs and low-cut tops and swimming whenever possible.
But hell, now she was starving. She’d just have to swim tomorrow.
“I’m never going to be off Mexican, Colton. One hundred percent born and bred, remember?” Offering him a grin to break the tension caused by Paige’s abrupt exit, she bent to grab her purse. “I’m up for some of mama’s chimichangas. Oh, and ooh, deep fried ice cream. Screw my diet.”
Colt grinned and passed a hand over his closely-shorn dark hair. “Now you’re talking. It’s probably better Paige didn’t come anyway.”
She was tempted to ask why, then decided she didn’t want to risk ruining her digestion. Angst never went well with her mama’s cooking.
Half an hour later, they faced each other across one of the brightly-patterned tablecloths in her mama’s restaurant and scarfed down fajitas and chimichangas while they regaled each other with tales from work. They didn’t see each other that often anymore, maybe once or twice a month, but they always slipped into conversation without trouble. But today Colt clearly had something on his mind beyond the youngest Daly girl’s riding lessons, though he wouldn’t spit it out no matter how much she poked and prodded.
Then a disturbing thought occurred to her. “Is it Coach?”
Colt blinked his unnaturally long dark lashes. “Is Coach what?”
“He’s okay, right?”
“Aside from having a serious heart attack and bypass surgery? Uh yeah.”
She blew out a breath. “That’s not what I meant. I know all that. Did something new happen? Is his rehabilitation not going well?”
“Why would you think that?”
“Because you’re acting weird.”
Colt’s tightened lips smoothed out into a facsimile of a smile. “Am I now?” He leaned back in the booth. “Here I thought we were having a pleasant lunch.”
“We are, but something’s up with you. You should just tell me what and not make me guess.”
“Can’t a guy just want to have lunch with a woman he cares about?”
Charlene rolled her eyes, unable to believe she’d ever fallen for that charm he put on as easily as he tugged on his khakis. Not that it wasn’t very effective, but it was also transparent as hell when you knew where to look. “I’m your ex-wife. We’re not just buddies.”
“No. You’re right. Which is why I—” Colt broke off as her cell buzzed with an incoming text. “Go ahead and get that.”
“I’ll be just a second,” she said.
As soon as she glimpsed the message from her friend Lela, she realized why Colt was acting so damn fidgety.
“I’m down at Sally’s for lunch and just heard a rumor that Wade’s back in town. Wanted to give you a heads-up if you don’t already know. Do you know? If so, why didn’t you tell me?”
Charlene smiled in spite of the hummingbirds fluttering to life inside her belly. Yet again her superstitious nature had been proved right. She’d been on edge, worrying that even thinking of Wade might conjure his presence, and he’d already been back in Quinn.
And Colt had danced around the subject without saying a damn thing.
Gritting her teeth, Charlene typed a response. “First I’m hearing about it. But I’ll get the scoop and clue you in ASAP.”
“You better. Think we’ll need Ben & Jerry’s tonight?” Before Charlene could respond, Lela sent another text. “Never mind. I need to refresh my supply anyway.”
Charlene suppressed a sympathetic smile. With Lela’s ex-boyfriend, Tucker, and the rest of the guys from the high school championship team back in town due to Coach’s heart attack, Lela was revisiting her own high school heartbreak.
Difference was Charlene had no intention of spending any more time with Wade than necessary. She’d untangled herself from the Bennett boys years ago, and she wasn’t about to climb astride that prickly haystack one more time.
Charlene sent back another quick text. “Okay, sounds good. Talk to you later. Oh, and don’t forget the Chunky Monkey.” She set aside her phone and reached for her lemonade. A long sip later, she wasn’t any closer to knowing how to broach the subject with Colt.
It wasn’t a thing. It honestly wasn’t. So she’d kissed Wade. Or he’d kissed her. Big whoop. It had happened over twelve years ago. Ancient, forgettable history.
So why was her heart thudding in her ears like she’d just finished an incline workout on the treadmill?
“All right, I’m done stalling.” Colt pushed aside his demolished plate of fajitas and braced his massive forearms on the table. He still had his linebacker’s physique, that was for sure. “My brother’s headed back to see Coach.”
She nodded, her reply turning to dust that clogged her throat. His brother. Which meant this held much more significance for him than it did for her. She cared about Wade—he’d been her brother-in-law for five years, after all, and her own brother Rafe’s best friend for years before that—but his arrival in town affected Colt so much more.
And this bystander would just stay safely on the sidewalk until the Wade Parade finished passing through town.
“Uh, how do you feel about that?”
“How should I feel?” He leaned back and shoved a hand through his hair. “I’ve barely seen the guy in the past decade. We hardly even talk at Christmas. Hell, I got a fucking divorce, and he didn’t even send as much as an ‘I’m sorry’ but here he is, running back for Coach.” Before she could reply, he held up a hand. “I know that was a dick thing to say.”
“Yeah, kinda. A divorce isn’t a death.”
“Tell that to my lawyer.” Though he said it with a cheeky grin, she didn’t find it particularly amusing. Especially since she’d asked for a paltry amount of alimony in spite of her own attorney advising her to demand much more. She’d certainly had a case, since she’d put in so many hours on the Bennett farm. But all she’d wanted was to be done.
Now it felt like she was being sucked back into Bennett drama, and she’d forgotten her hip waders.
“Sorry,” he said, heaving out a breath. “You know I don’t mean that.”
“I don’t know what you mean. I also don’t know what you expect me to say about Wade. I’m happy he’s coming back,” she hastened to add. “I’m glad for you and your folks and Hollie, and especially for Coach. They were close. I think it’ll do him some good to have all the old team reunited.”
“Yeah. You’re right. It will. My parents are overjoyed. He called them and Hollie to let them know he was on his way.” Colt’s gaze drifted above her head to the framed photos on the wall of her mama’s favorite singers. She had eclectic taste, so they ranged from José José to Elvis. “You think Rosa will put Wade’s picture up here someday?”
She didn’t know why it made her laugh—or why the sound caught in her chest, like a breath she couldn’t fully take. “I’m not sure she’s ever even heard his music.”
“Sure she has,” he said easily. “We used to talk about him. She asked me once if he would come play a set here sometime.” He looked down at his hands. “I had to tell her he rarely returned my calls, so I couldn’t call and ask.”
“Colt,” she began, but he didn’t let her finish.
“You have to help me,” he said, leaning forward.
“Me?” She sprung backwards, pressing her spine to the back of the booth as if she could evade the urgency in his expression. “How can I help you?”
Surely he didn’t want her to intercede on his behalf with his brother. If so, how awkward would that be? She had never told him about the kiss, but she’d always assumed he knew. His mother certainly hadn’t been shy about making insinuations that she’d tell Colt what had happened the second Charlene stepped out of line. But perhaps she never had.
Or maybe he simply didn’t think it mattered anymore. Ancient history, remember?
Cripes, she was acting like a junior high girl instead of a divorced woman of the world. Wade had probably kissed hundreds—maybe thousands—of women in the interim since their all-too-brief lip lock. Women trembled at the sound of his voice and tossed lacy underthings on the stage when he crooned. She was nothing to him. Less than nothing.
A memory. A mistake. A girl he’d forgotten.
“I think he resented me going into the NFL. I don’t know, maybe he thought he should’ve had a shot.” Colt sighed. “That if I hadn’t been there taking the glory, there would’ve been more room for him.”
Of course. She wasn’t even a factor. Not that she truly believed she could’ve come between the two men for even a second, but sometimes her thoughts turned fanciful and she imagined that maybe Wade had avoided Quinn because of her. Perhaps seeing her hurt, just a little. They’d come so close to having a chance at something, back when it had seemed like everything she wanted was in reach. Even if it meant risking it all.
Charlene swallowed and toyed with the napkin on her lap. After her papa’s early death, her mama had warned her to stay away from dreamers like Wade, because they’d never be able to take care of her and her future kids. She needed someone she could count on to be a stable provider, like Colt.
Colt, who’d aimed toward professional football from the time he was a kid.
Colt, who had divorced her when he’d realized what she had known for too long—any spark between them had vanished after she’d miscarried the baby that had led to their shotgun wedding. Besides, she didn’t need anyone to provide for her. She was doing just fine on her own.
But if Wade had ever truly looked her way, she wouldn’t have cared about her mama’s admonition. She would’ve climbed on the back of his beat-up Harley and ridden off into that dust-encrusted sunset with him, because she could see the future in his eyes.
Or she had, once. So long ago. Back when possibilities had stretched in front of her like a ribbon, and she couldn’t make the spool unfurl fast enough.
“You think he hasn’t been around home much for over a decade because he resented your success in the NFL? He’s had some success of his own, you know.”
“I do know, and I’m happy for him. There’s something, Char. Don’t know what, but we used to be close. You used to be close to him too.”
Yep, there went that dusty sensation in her throat. Any minute she’d start choking. “He was Rafe’s friend first.”
Rafe hadn’t done much better than she had after Wade had left town with his G.E.D. and a fistful of ambition, set on chasing fame and fortune. For two kids who hadn’t lived in Quinn long, Wade had been a lifeline. They’d lost their father shortly before moving, and then they’d lost their first real friend.
Of course she’d still had Colt and her other friends on the cheerleading squad, but Wade’s absence had created a hole for her and Rafe. Not to mention Wade’s little sister Hollie, who idolized her big brother and collected every news clipping about him. And apparently Colt had dealt with a hole of his own as well.
“He was your friend too,” Colt insisted. “You had a bond, something special.”
“Not that special or he wouldn’t have left town without warning,” she snapped, almost as surprised as Colt seemed to be about the bitterness in her tone.
“I think he needed to go more than he needed to stay. That wasn’t about us.”
“How do you know that, since you don’t know why he’s stayed gone?”
Colt tipped back his head to stare at the bright orange ceiling. Minute stress fractures marred the paint. Her mama adored Rosa’s and worked her fingers to the bone—today was the first day she’d taken off in weeks, and that was only because she’d finally hired a new manager—but there was no denying the restaurant had seen better days. It needed a couple of coats of paint, maybe some new tablecloths and chairs.
Charlene fiddled with her napkin. Helping her mother gather the funds to spiff up the restaurant was what she needed to focus on, not Wade Bennett. That ship had sailed so long ago that she barely even remembered when he’d claimed space at her dock.
