Page 85 of A Cowboy in the Streets

“So, are you going to drive James to California?” Brax asked.

My brow furrowed. “Why would I do that? She drove here. She’ll drive herself back again.”

Brax shrugged. “That’s what you do, isn’t it? Your woman decides to go, and you give her a lift to her next destination without stopping to ask why she’s going or what it would take to make her stay.”

“What the hell does that—” I drew up short with the sudden realization that he wasn’t talking about James anymore. At least, not only James. He was talking about Emily. “Fuck you,” I choked out, fury clogging my throat. “You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“I know exactly what I’m talking about. From the time we were babies, our parents spoon fed us this soulmate bullshit. It only happens once. When you know, you know. It’s not work when it’s love.” His voice pitched as he mimicked the words Mom and Dad had ingrained in us. “They were wrong. It is work. It’s so much fucking work, Adam. And most of that work comes down to simply using your goddamn words.”

“How would you know?” It was a fair question. Brax had always had girlfriends, but he’d never come close to marriage before, to my knowledge.

“I’m the only attorney in Aspen Springs. Half my caseload is divorce. And I’m here to tell you I would have a lot fewer clients if they had bothered to talk to each other from the start. By the time they see me, they’re too far gone. Relationships take work, no matter what Dad told us.”

“And…what? You think if I use my words, if I ask James to stay here with me, she’s going to give up her dream?” I shook my head. “Life doesn’t work that way.”

“I think you’re scared to find out. I think you’re scared to lay it all out there and hear her say it’s not enough. I hate to tell you this, but that’s what everyone is scared of. No one likes rejection.”

“It doesn’t matter what I say. She’s going back to California.”

“All right, then. Let her go.” Brax smirked over his shoulder like it was all the same to him. “Who cares if James is the best thing to happen to you since Ben? You’ll be fine.”

I was not fine. But I also was not like my dad, broken of both heart and spirit, half-drowned in bourbon. So. I would take that as a win. Even if it felt a whole hell of a lot like I was still losing.

Bourbon would feel pretty damn good right about now.

“Stop right there,” Dad ordered as I strode past the kitchen. “You haven’t eaten lunch.”

“I don’t have time.” I had time. Probably. But I also knew Brax had taken his sandwich to the back deck, and I’d already had more than enough of his brotherly wisdom for one day. I’d eat when he was good and gone.

“You have time for a sandwich. I picked up a loaf of sourdough.” Dad slapped two thick slices on the wood cutting board.

I loved sourdough. I lingered in the doorway, not fully committing one way or the other. “What are you making?”

“Roast beef. From the good deli, not the prepackaged shit from the grocery store.” Dad reached for a small bowl and slathered the contents on both slices. From the pale-yellow color, I knew it was his signature mix of mayonnaise and mustard. He always premixed the condiments, swearing it tasted much better than adding each straight to the bread one at a time.

I sidled up to the counter. “What else?”

“Cheddar, of course. I figured that would go real nice with some arugula. And some radish slices for crunch.”

It sounded odd, but I knew it would be good. Even the radishes—or maybe especially the radishes? Dad loved a good crunch on a sandwich.

My stomach rumbled as I watched him layer on the ingredients. Not being a heathen, he cut the sandwich in half on the diagonal, then slid it onto a plate for me along with a pickle wedge.

“Here you go.” He nudged the plate closer to me. “I call it the Get Your Head Out of Your Ass on Sourdough.”

I should have known Brax would spill everything while I was washing up. Defiantly, I lifted one triangle to my mouth and bit off a large chunk. Delicious. I chewed while glaring at him. Swallowed while glaring some more. “Really? Because it tastes like Mind Your Own Business to me.”

Dad gave me a look only a parent could give, full of exasperated fondness. “You are my business. You’re my son.”

“I’m a grown ass man.”

“Then stop acting like a scared little boy.”

Scared. The word was an echo of what Brax had said earlier. It chafed around the edges of some too tender place in my chest. And lord, didn’t that piss me right off. The only thing that scared me was mountain lions. Or something bad happening to Ben. I wasn’t scared of fucking feelings.

“All right, Dad. Since you and Brax think you have all the answers, how about you share them with me? You think I’m running scared? Fine. Tell me what I’m supposed to do, then. Because James—” My voice did something I wasn’t proud of. Fury pushed me past it. “James deserves everything. Whatever she wants, she should have. She’s loyal and strong and kind, and my god, the mouth on that woman. She always says what's on her mind, what she thinks. Do you know how rare that is? She deserves everything, you hear me? And I’m not going to let anything stand in the way of that, not even me.”

Dad blew out a sigh and shook his head. “I hear you, Adam. I hear you and I understand. Hell, I even agree with you. James deserves to have everything she wants. I won’t fight you on that. What I don’t understand is why you seem to think that everything doesn’t include you.”

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