Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 77827 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 389(@200wpm)___ 311(@250wpm)___ 259(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77827 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 389(@200wpm)___ 311(@250wpm)___ 259(@300wpm)
“Macklin.” She breathes my name, her eyes wide with disbelief, but the story’s not over yet.
“Being a bull rider is hard on your body, as one might guess.” I chuckle. “I told everyone I was considering retiring, and I was, but not only because of how hard the sport was on my body. That was a part of it, but the biggest reason was that I thought that you and I were finally going to be in the same place at the same time. You’d finished your degree, and I thought it was our time. Hoped it was our time, was more like it.” I clear my throat but keep going. “Suddenly, you were twenty-two, and I was twenty-seven, and the five-year age gap didn’t seem as insurmountable as it had before. No more balancing act to make our schedules line up, no more missing you from a distance…” I say, my voice trailing off.
“I don’t know what to say,” she whispers.
“There’s more,” I tell her, taking a deep breath and starting again. “I was home for your graduation party, and I was working up the nerve to ask you out. I can still see you that day, too,” I tell her. “Brown sundress, brown cowboy boots, your hair braided down your back. You took my breath away and had my nerves kicked into overdrive, but I was used to that where you were concerned. Before I had my chance to even suggest dinner, you dropped the bomb that you were moving to New York.”
Baylor’s eyes are locked on mine as she hangs on every word. She doesn’t try to speak, and I’m grateful. I wasn’t ready for how telling her all of this, confessing to her that she’s who I’ve always wanted, would slice open my chest. It’s painful yet cathartic at the same time, but I’m almost done, so I need to keep going.
“I stayed on the circuit three more years before deciding my body had had enough. I’d had enough. I knew fuck all about living in a big city full-time, but I was hanging up my spurs and heading to New York.” She gasps, and I smile. “I was going to get my girl, but then you came home to visit. I remember the exhilaration that I was finally going to do it. I was going to tell you that I’d wanted you for years, and I was going back with you. I didn’t know what I would do for work. I was too young to retire altogether, but I knew nothing was going to keep me away from you. Well, nothing until you came home with him—Todd, your new boyfriend. And for the second time, my plans that were so thoughtfully constructed were pulverized to dust.”
Closing my eyes, I focus on pulling in a deep breath and slowly exhaling. When I open my eyes, they lock on hers. “Five years ago, I hung up my spurs for good. Five years ago, I had a plan, one that I’d pushed back many times, and I wasn’t going to let anything stop me. Five years ago, I met Todd.”
Silence settles between us, thick and heavy. I clasp my hands together in my lap to keep from reaching for her. Her facial expression isn’t giving her away, and I’d give anything to be able to read her thoughts in this moment. I know that I have my work cut out for me. I know that, while I’ve yearned for her for years, this is new for her. But I’ll be damned if I pass up my chance with this woman another time.
I’m all in. With everything I am, I’m going to show her that, and if it’s not enough, well, at least I’ll know I didn’t leave anything on the table.
Seven
Baylor
* * *
My heart thrashes in my chest, and there’s a swarm of butterflies in my belly. Macklin holds my gaze, waiting for me to say something, say anything, but I’m at a loss for words, which doesn’t happen to me often.
When he told me he had a story for me, I never imagined that story would be that he’s wanted me for years. That every turn my life took somehow placed me just out of reach, like a timing game neither of us knew we were playing.
I swallow hard, my fingers curling into the soft fabric of the blanket he covered me with as his words replay in my head. Years. He said years like it was nothing, like it didn’t mean he’d watched me build a whole life with someone else. Like it didn’t mean he’d stood on the sidelines while I gave my heart away—to the wrong person.
“To hear you say all that—” My voice comes out quieter than I expect, fragile in a way I don’t recognize. “I don’t even know what to do with it. I don’t know what to think or how to feel.”