Kissin' Tell (Rough Riders #13)

Kissin' Tell (Rough Riders #13) Page 46

“Took me a while, but I’m finally starting to realize what anger cost me.”

“Who were you angry at?”

“God. For takin’ my boy away. I lost my faith.”

Robert Hotchkiss had always been a man of faith, not merely paying lip service to being a Christian. He’d tried to lead his life according to God’s rules and by example, expecting his family to follow suit. It hadn’t been the easiest way to grow up, but she hadn’t questioned it. Not until RJ had died. Although she’d veered away from the teachings of the church, she still didn’t judge those people who abided by the tenets of their religions, just as long as they didn’t try and push their beliefs on her.

So his response about losing his faith startled her—maybe that’s why her father had become so unrecognizable in the wake of RJ’s death. He’d had no one to turn to. So he’d turned on everyone.

“But the worst part?” he continued in a small voice. “Because of that anger, I also lost your mom. And you. I lost everything and everyone that mattered to me.” He looked down. “It ain’t right. And I don’t know what I can do to make it right.”

Neither do I.

“But I’m willing to do anything, Georgia.”

What did it mean that he wanted to try and make amends?

Her phone buzzed, reminding her of her next appointment. She said, “Dad, I have to go.”

“I understand. Thanks for makin’ my day. I…hate that it’s this way between us. I don’t know you as an adult, Georgie. That makes me sadder than anything in the world,” he said gruffly.

Completely at a loss, Georgia mumbled, “See you,” and practically ran out of the restaurant.

Tell’s week started out on a sour note and went downhill from there.

He hadn’t seen Georgia at all on Monday and when he called her, she sounded preoccupied, although she swore she was just tired.

Tuesday night was a wash. She’d invited him to her place after his dart game ended, but the way she’d gone on about how much fun she’d had with the new people she’d met and the old friends she’d reconnected with had brought out a jealous streak and he’d just gone home. Alone.

Wednesday night was Georgia’s girls’ night with Stephanie. And Leah and Roxanne. And a bunch of other women. Evidently she’d had a great time, a fact he’d heard Thursday morning from Ned. And even Dalton.

Weren’t you the one who encouraged her to cut loose? Have fun. Make friends. Get involved?

Yeah. Might make him paranoid, but now that Georgia had found a new crowd, maybe a cooler crowd, was she ditching him?

The niggling doubt was confirmed Thursday night when Tell tracked Georgia down at the Golden Boot—thirty minutes after they were supposed to meet for supper at Fields. He leaned against the wall and watched her as she chatted with the mayor, the superintendent of schools, the owner of the local real estate company, and the lawyer for a methane gas company.

All single men.

All gazing at Georgia with lust-filled eyes.

All dead men, as far as Tell was concerned.

But rather than storming over and hauling her ass out like he had before, he hung back. Just as he had in high school. Waiting for her to notice him.

You’re still a wannabe, McKay. Nothing has changed.

Bullshit. But tuning out that voice of doubt and reminding himself to act like a mature adult in this relationship didn’t spur his feet to move. He was stuck in hell, seeing Georgia laughing with these clowns, oblivious to the fact she’d missed their date.

Thirty minutes passed while he remained in the shadows, nursing a beer. Thirty long minutes in which he didn’t cross Georgia’s mind once because she’d made no effort to contact him.

Sobering and humbling.

He texted her.

I must’ve mixed up my nights. Thought we had a date at Fields. I’m tired and going home. Catch up with you later. T~

Maybe it was perverted, but he hung around to see her reaction.

Georgia fished out her cell from the pocket of her suit jacket and glanced at the screen. Guilt crossed her face and she swore. She immediately began punching buttons. Soon after his phone buzzed in his hand.

No, it was tonight. Sorry! I didn’t mean to stand you up. I got sidetracked. Are you still waiting at Fields?

Tell waited a solid five minutes before he responded.

No worries. We’ll go another night. Got a busy day tomorrow anyway. See you @ the Pine Haven Rodeo Saturday.

Georgia frowned and texted furiously, ignoring the men at the table.

I’m really sorry. Can I come out to your place and make you supper?

Probably made him a petty dick, but he just wanted to be mad at her.

No. I can’t text and drive, so I gotta go. See you.

Tell finished his beer. Wondering if Georgia would stay at the bar and drink with these guys or if she’d head home.

But he didn’t stick around to find out.

He dreamt of her that night. Dreamt of being back in high school. Dreamt of being invisible. Dreamt of gazing at her adoringly from the sidelines.

Georgia. Beautiful, perfect Georgia. His Georgia. Not the unattainable Georgia from the past.

He approached her in the lunchroom. But she wouldn’t deign to look in his direction or even speak to him.

He pulled her hair and called her name in history class, but she wouldn’t acknowledge him at all.

In the next dream frame, Georgia was surrounded by his cousins. Strong, strapping McKays. With those black Irish good looks. Rich men. Successful ranchers. Oozing confidence. Spreading charm.

When he wormed his way through the throng to get to her, he was roughly jerked back. Put in his place at the end of the line.

“She doesn’t want you,” Kade sneered.

“She never has, she never will,” Colby hissed.

“She’s too good for you,” Colt added.

“You ain’t man enough to handle her,” Ben warned.

“She’s using you, and you’re a loser who lets her,” Dalton said with derision.

His father appeared—all mean attitude and ugliness. “You’re an embarrassment to the McKay name.” Casper turned his back on Tell, shunning him.

Then, one by one, his McKay relatives started laughing at him. Pointing. Whispering. Making fun. Taunting him. He tried to run away but his feet were buried in the earth.

The real kick in the balls came when Georgia looked at him with pity and contempt. “You didn’t really think you had a shot at me, did you?”

He woke up angry. Irrational anger from a stupid dream, but he hated there were some truths in his fears. That he’d never be good enough for her. In her eyes and everyone else’s eyes. Truths that made him feel raw and helpless. Truths that made him a little desperate to dispel those fears by any means.

Chores kept him hopping all Friday morning. So when his caller ID said Chase, he almost didn’t answer, but curiosity got the better of him. “Omigod! Is this really Chase McKay? World champion PBR bull rider? Callin’ me? I’m so honored!”

“Yes, it is, and why don’t you just go ahead and pucker up to kiss my famous butt for that smart-ass comment.”

Tell laughed. “What’s up, cuz?”

“I’ll be in town for the Upton Rodeo tomorrow afternoon. Pressing the flesh, passing the word about safety helmets. I got to talkin’ to Verna, the Upton Rodeo secretary, and she told me they’re short a judge for tomorrow. I told her I’d call and see if you’re interested in subbing.”

Hell yes he was interested. Then it hit him. He couldn’t. It was too bad Georgia had hired him to work the Pine Haven Rodeo tomorrow.

It’s too bad Georgia has blown you off all fucking week.

Whoa. Seemed his subconscious was still bitter.

But the bottom line was the Upton Rodeo was a PRCA-sanctioned event. More money, more prestige than a dinky-ass nothing rodeo. Not to mention he’d get to share the spotlight with his celebrity cousin for an afternoon.

No one would fault him for taking this opportunity.

Well, Georgia might.

Well, she could just suck it up.

“Tell? You there?”

“Yep. Sorry. That sounds great.”

“Awesome. I’m sure you know the drill by now. Lookin’ forward to seein’ you.”

Georgia didn’t check her phone Saturday morning until after she’d weeded her vegetable garden, showered and finished half a pot of coffee. She smiled, seeing a text from Tell at six a.m. She loved the pictures he’d text from his early morning ranch chores. Or just the sweet things he’d text because he’d been thinking about her. Those messages had been scarce the last three days. She’d just chalked it up to them both being busy. She scrolled through the text:

Sorry, but I have to back out of judging the Pine Haven Rodeo today. A family thing came up—don’t worry it’s not serious and I’ll text you when I can. T~

What was she supposed to do now? Two judges were the minimum requirement. She tried eight numbers on the judges list and no one was available.

That’s when she panicked.

Think, Georgia.

One solution occurred to her. She dismissed it. Several times. Until she just went ahead and made the call, pacing as the line kept ringing. Then a gruff voice said, “Hello?”

“Hey, Dad. How are you?”

“Georgie! I’m okay. I’m happy to hear from you. What’s goin’ on?”

“Is Deck around?”

Silence. Then, “Oh. You didn’t call to talk to me?”

His hopeful tone had dimmed and she felt guilty. “I’m actually in a time crunch. I need to talk to Deck and I didn’t have his number. It’s strictly a business question.”

“Georgia, dear, is there coffee left?” her mother trilled as she entered the kitchen.

“Your mother is in Sundance?” he asked.

“Yes. I told you she planned to visit. Now is Deck around or not?”

“Yeah. He’s here. Hang on.”

Muffled voices mixed with the sounds of hogs going hog wild in the background and then Deck came on the line. “Robert said you needed to talk to me?”