Page 16 of Bull Rush

“He will be tonight. He leaves tomorrow, and he stays at a hotel down in Denver the night before so he doesn’t have to make the airport drive in the morning.”

“Where’s he headed anyway?”

“Vegas.”

“Thinking he can gamble his way out of this?” I smirk.

“Actually, he works at the casino, and he’s being promoted. They’ve got some training and networking he has to do down there ahead of it.” The smug look on her face tells me she’s proud of him, and it sends a flood of newfound jealousy through my veins. It makes me wonder if she ever looked like that when she talked about me. ’Cause my football career had been a huge part of the reason we fell apart in the first place. But I’m not about to let any of it show.

“Good. How long’s he gone for?” I ask.

“Ten weeks.”

It’s like it was meant to be. I’m grinning before I realize what I’m doing.

“He doesn’t have to be here for me to be thinking about him every day.” She’s dead set on reminding me that I mean nothing to her.

“And yet you both agreed.” I shrug.

“Because the inn is having a rough patch and your timing happens to coincide with it. It’s nothing more than that.”

“Well, given you’ve been leaning more grandma’s getaway and less wide-open skies and Wild West, I can guess why. I doubt those ladies are riding horses or paying to go on hunting or fishing excursions.”

“We do bird watching and wine tasting,” she answers defensively.

“People come out here to feel alive again. They want to feel whiskey burn down the back of their throat and get lost in the woods, hike two miles to stand on top of a mountain and see how big the sky is up there. Bring home something they put on the table for dinner. Ride into the sunset or ride a cowboy after. You’re offering them things they can do in their backyard back East.” My mom had kept the inn going after my dad’s mom gave it up. She’d been good at keeping a mix of activities to entertain everyone. I didn’t hate the way Hazel ran the place or the dreams she had for it, but I worry that she leaves too much money on the table.

“We do just fine.” Her arms cross over her chest. Stubborn Hazel is practically an immovable force. She’d run the inn into the ground before admitting she’s wrong if she doesn’t like the person telling her. So I’ll be better off keeping my mouth shut on the subject and changing it to another one that’ll piss her off.

“If your boy toy is okay with me even breathing in your direction, things can’t be fine.”

“I told you. The inn is having a rough patch.He knows it as well as I do, and he wants to do his part. It’s not like you gave him much of a choice.” She glares at me for even implying there’s trouble. “And don’t make assumptions about our relationship. You don’t know the first thing about what a good one looks like.”

I’m tempted to take the bait, but I refuse it. Reminding myself that if I play the long game, I’ll get something a lot sweeter than just winning an argument. It’s the war and not the battle I need.

“Which room are you using as the guest room these days?” I ask, glancing over my shoulder to the stairs.

“Your old bedroom.”

“Fine, and don’t worry about the fridge. I’ll eat at the inn or go to the cafe in town. I’ve been missing Kit’s cooking so might as well take full advantage.”

Hazel always hated cooking, and the few attempts she made after we married were disasters that make me smile just thinking about. I can’t imagine she wants to revisit the attempt, and I won’t force her to do anything she hates.

I eatmy words and the plate of food she serves her boy toy and me later that night. It’s not half bad, and far better than anything I could make. I just hate that it’s another thing that’s changed about her. One I didn’t know about and wasn’t part of.

There’s a lot about her and this town I could do without, mainly the misery they’ve both caused. But my heart still aches at all the small moments I’ve missed. The ones everyone takes for granted when they’re happening, but when you’re the one who’s been absent, they seem monumental in retrospect.

She kisses his cheek as she clears the plates, returning everything to the kitchen and putting them in the dishwasher.The small gesture nearly tears a hole in my chest, but I smile and stand, taking my own plates in behind her.

“I have to run back to the inn. There’s a speaker tonight, and I need to welcome them and get them set up for the guests. Do you think you can be civil with each other while I’m gone for a bit?” She eyes us warily as she pulls off the apron she has on and hangs it next to the fridge.

“No problem on my account,” Curtis answers her, but her gaze is locked on mine as I walk back through the kitchen. Obviously, I’m the problem.

“I’ll behave.” I return to the table to finish my beer and kick back in my chair.

“Don’t let him say anything stupid. Just walk away if he tries.” Hazel looks at Curtis, and then her eyes fall back on me. “And hewilltry.”

“No faith,” I muse, threading my fingers together and putting them behind my head as I lean the chair onto its back legs.

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