Page 17 of Roped in Rawhide
“Fuck, I know.” He hangs his head for a breath, glancing up at me with a plea in his green gaze. “It was stupid and completely unnecessary.”
“Finally something we can agree on.”
“Wildflower.” His throat bobs with a thick swallow. “I just… I can’t do this anymore.”
“Can’t do what exactly?”
“Have you hate me.”
“Unfortunately, that’s not yours to control.”
Chance squeezes his eyes shut for a sluggish beat. When his focus reclaims mine, there’s a determination burning in those emerald depths. “What can I do? Name it.”
The urge to shake him tightens my fingers around the stem of my cocktail glass. “You can rewind time and decide to rely on me rather than Marie and the countless other notches on your bedpost.”
He makes a face as if I’m talking shit. “That’s one thing I can’t do.”
“Sucks, huh?” I laugh, but there’s no humor in the sound. “When did this… epiphany strike you? Was it before or after my accident?”
A near-death experience has an uncanny way of knocking some sense into a person.
Chance’s attention roves over my left side as if peeling away the layers of destruction from that day. It’ll be two years in October, but parts of me are still healing.
Vanity is a luxury I can no longer afford. The pity hurts the most.
Chance doesn’t look like he feels sorry for me. He’s apologetic, but that doesn’t have anything to do with my scars. It’s refreshing in a sense that I can’t contemplate too deeply or I’ll go soft on him.
“I regretted my decision the instant I made it,” he murmurs softly. “Guilt has plagued me like an incurable disease, but I thought I was doing the right thing. From my perspective, whenever I’d check up on you, it seemed like you were doing well. The suffering was mine alone, which is the price I paid. But something changed after you got hit.” Chance taps the left side of his chest. “I refused to keep watching from the outside looking in. By that point, nobody would let me near you. Not that I blame them. It’s been a rough ride ever since. But honestly, you’ve never been far from my mind. Not in all these years, Wildflower.”
Dammit, there’s a sting prickling across the bridge of my nose. I will not get emotional over this man. He’s already caused me to shed more tears than a torrential downpour.
“I’m not sure what you expect from me, Chance.”
“Not a damn thing.” His smirk is a sad sight, like he’s lost the will to smile fully. “Just sitting beside you for a while is more than I could’ve asked for.”
“If that’s all you wanted, you didn’t have to make such an obnoxious scene.”
He grunts. “I don’t do anything halfway.”
A spark of awareness tries to resonate within me. “I guess not everything has changed.”
“My grovel game needed serious improvement.”
“Your grovel game?”
He nods earnestly. “Paisley and Bianca set me straight.”
My jaw drops. “That stunt was their idea?”
It might be the lighting, but I swear Chance blushes. “Uh, well… not exactly. They’d probably be appalled by that scene. I’m still a work in progress.”
“You thought that was groveling?” My brain might explode depending on his answer.
His shrug is sheepish. “Kind of?”
I smack my forehead dramatically. “Duh, of course. What was I thinking? You’ve never had to impress anyone. Women hop onto your lap regardless of your behavior.”
Before he can respond, my phone vibrates on the counter. I glance at the screen and my mood immediately brightens. My thumb swipes to open the text from Paisley. It’s an adorable picture of my niece. We celebrated Wren’s first birthday in March and she got piles of gifts. The sensory horse plushy I bought got buried beneath much cooler toys. I figured it was lost or forgotten by now. But it appears she loves the colorful flaps and crinkly mane. I can almost hear her giggle from the image.
