Page 14 of His Cowboy Heart

I drank too much.

Every time I turned around, a waiter was there to take away my empty glass and offer me another. I lost track of the drinks and lost myself in the warm embrace of fine liquor. Marjorie may have been a total bitch, but she served top shelf at her events. There wasn’t a glass of whiskey I met that I didn’t like that night.

Abigail and I walked arm in arm through most of the party. Her smile never wavered. We stood and listened to toast after toast.

“I’ve known Troy Van Rossum since he was this high,” one of my mother’s friends made a teary-eyed toast. “He has found his match in Abigail . . .”

“Abigail and Troy look so perfect together.”

“The secret to a good marriage Troy is knowing your wife runs the show . . .”

We kissed at all the right moments.

We danced, foreheads pressed together, as the band played old show tunes. We were drunk and sloppy and beautiful together.

Miguel and Nanthany arrived late, arm in arm. Nanthany whisked Abigail away at one point and the two of them hovered together like school girls. Abigail looked at me, eyes glistening as she bit her lip. I knew then that I wasn’t out of the woods. There would be more questions.

“So, she’s still upset with you?” Miguel said, nodding at the women.

“Yeah, she’s upset,” I said, throwing back another drink. “I lied to her about what happened that summer.”

“So she doesn’t even know what she should be upset about,” Miguel said.

“I know.” I closed my eyes for a moment. “I just need to get through tonight. I need Abigail to calm down and quit making me feel like I cheated on her because I didn’t. I’ll tell her after the wedding.”

“Or never tell her at all,” Miguel said. “I’m not one for lying, but Abigail would hold this over you my man.”

“I’m thinking I should take the job with Barry.” I nodded across the room. My mother stood beside Barry. He was red faced, arrogant, and a total asshole, but he wasn’t doing a development project in Eastern Washington. He’d promote me when I didn’t deserve it. I could sit behind a big desk with a leather chair I hadn’t earned and follow Abigail around on the semi-pro golf circuit. Maybe there were enough Long Island iced teas to make it worth my while.

“Come on, life is not that bad.”

“I don’t know if I can stay at the firm and hear updates about that town. I need to make a change. I am committing to Abigail. I can’t be in love with someone else in my mind. I want to go to sleep right now because I’m hoping that I’ll find her again.”

“In your dreams.”

“I am such an idiot,” I said. “Seriously. I want to dream fuck Shea Marie a thousand different ways. If you told me I would never fuck another woman in real life again, but every night I’d get Shea, I’d take her.”

Miguel shook his head. “You are one messed up mother fucker.”

“I’m drunk and stupid,’ I said. “Forget it. I’m fine. Forget I said anything.”

“No, you got to listen to your drunk voice my man. Your drunk voice tells the truth.”

“My drunk voice is an asshole,” I said, feeling embarrassed. I looked up and I saw a woman cross the room. Strawberry blonde hair, tall, athletic.

“Dude?” Miguel said. “Come on . . .”

I felt drunk and unsteady. I had to follow. It made no sense, but she was here. I had to talk to her to explain. “Shea,” I whispered.

The woman turned and melted into the crowd. I followed and reached for her arm, fingertips grazing her skin. “Yes,” the woman said turning. She was young and beautiful, but she wasn’t my Shea. There was no spray of freckles on her nose. This girl lacked Shea’s vibrancy and sparkle.

“Sorry, I thought you were somebody I used to know.” I stood alone in the crowd, my breath unsteady. There were so many people here I didn’t know.

“Troy,” Abigail said. I turned and looked into the eyes of my fiancé. “Who were you just talking to?”

I took her hand, my need for Shea making me hard.

“Come with me,” I said, my voice husky.

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