Page 99 of A Forever Kind of Rancher

He poured a glass of wine for her, and handed it over. “Where do you eat?” he asked.

“The couch,” she said. “That’s what the coffee table is for. This place is the size of a goldfish bowl so I find less furniture is better.”

They took their plates into the living room and he sat on the couch. She eyeballed it, and the little wedge of space left for her. David hadn’t taken up so much space, that was for sure.

She let out a breath and sat down next to him, their thighs touching.

“So tell me about the previous sex, which was bad,” he said.

“Uh...not bad. Just...not remarkable. I had a boyfriend in college who was young. You know what I mean by that.”

“Fast?”

“Very.”

“And after that?”

“Two years of celibacy, followed by David. Who I was with for five years. I lived with him for a while. Which I think was kind of the beginning of the end. He was like a fixture, and so was I. And you stop looking at fixtures, especially when you’re busy. And you?”

He took a bite of his rice and looked away. “Before you, I hadn’t had sex in six years.”

Chapter Six

Well, damn. So, he’d confessed that. Something about this little velvet couch must have been reminiscent of a psych office. Not that he’d ever been to one. Though, some, like his manager, would argue he should go. Deal with his issues. His grief.

But he didn’t want to. His grief was his blanket and without it...without it he would be exposed.

Though, grief was a damned itchy blanket.

Even so, he was attached.

“You...what?” She blinked rapidly, dark lashes fluttering with the movement.

“Are you asking for me to elaborate or to repeat the statement?”

“Elaborate, please. I was under the impression you just went through a divorce. Though, if you hadn’t had sex in six years, I can see why the divorce was necessary.”

He shook his head. “I got divorced six years ago. Or rather, my wife left me six years ago, I’m not really sure when the thing was finalized. I just signed papers. Neither of us did much. She didn’t want the house. We didn’t have any...kids to fight over.” That always pulled him up. Saying he didn’t have kids.

He didn’t. But he still felt like a father. He still loved a little girl with everything in him, even though she wasn’t here.

“It was an easy divorce,” he said, because that much was true. There hadn’t been any glue holding him and Stephanie together in the end.

He didn’t blame her for it. She wanted to leave their house, leave the town. He didn’t. She wanted to run from the memories, he wanted to live in them. And in the end, it had meant she’d needed to run from him. He couldn’t be angry at her for that.

“Oh... I... I’m sorry. I mean...good for an easy divorce, but... I’m sorry.”

He looked down at his food, a ball of hard, heavy emotion settling in his chest. The worst thing was, now he felt like he had to talk about it. Because pretending Tally hadn’t been a part of everything was...it wasn’t fair. He didn’t want to act like she didn’t exist. But he didn’t like talking about her, either.

So he wouldn’t. Not now.

He set his plate down on the pretty little side table. “Suddenly, I’m not so hungry for food,” he said.

“But we just...not a half hour ago we...”

“Come on, Grace. I just told you. Six years.” He picked up his wineglass and knocked back the remaining contents. He needed it. He needed to forget.

He needed her.

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