Page 64 of Take Me Away, Cowboy

Brad ran his hands through his hair and sighed deep.

Well, fuck.Owen looked back and forth between the friends. He found it interesting that Steve was just hearing about this for the first time. Even more interesting that Paige hadn’t mentioned it to Owen earlier, even on the way to the doc’s office. Then again, she didn’t think of him as her boyfriend, so any assumptions that she’d confide in him had been purely on his end. They’d sure made an ass out him, though.

“Sit down,” Brad whispered, eyes darting around the bar that was starting to fill up. “I’m still not sure, but that’s where I need you guys. I don’t wanna go in there guns blazing if Paige’s accusations don’t carry any weight.”

“Do you think she’d have even told you she suspects Julia if she didn’t have some proof?”

“She thinks she’s got proof, that’s the thing. But,” Brad said, looking pointedly at Steve then tossed back his lemon drop. “The three of us have known each other since we were kids.”

“The three of you?” Steve asked.

Now Owen was thoroughly confused. Was Brad talking about him, Julia, and Steve? Because even Steve didn’t seem to know what was going on. Anything left in his bottle went down in one pull.

Brad wrung his hands and looked down at the floor, not at all appearing the confident writer and teacher that Owen had come to know. Something big must be eating at him.

“Paige said she’s cheating with Chris.”

Steve hissed. “The fuck?” he said through a clenched jaw.

“Yeah, that’s why I need you two.” Brad appealed to Owen. “Chris, Julia, and I were best friends when we were little. He moved to Tulsa a few years back for work, but he was back last month and then again a couple weeks ago.”

“Okay, let’s work through this,” Owen said, though his gut went on the defensive for Brad. Deep down in the place that warned him about danger ahead of them on the road, he felt Paige was right about this in the same way he knew Paige was leaving him when he’d been at her apartment earlier. He couldn’t explain why he felt that way, though, and knowing Brad for only a couple months, he didn’t want to say anything until he had something concrete to add to the conversation. “Why does Paige think something’s up?”

Brad sighed, working his way through shredding a paper coaster from the table. Steve waved over a server and with a nod and a sweep at the glasses on the table either commanded her to wipe it clean, or ordered another round of who-knows-what. Owen guessed it was the latter.

“Paige was downtown in Butte for an appointment and saw them coming out of some Italian place holding hands.” He paused, and Owen could see the desperation in Brad’s eyes, the longing for them to tell him nothing was up, that it was normal, that she still loved him. Unfortunately, Steve didn’t see any of that, or if he did, he didn’t give a shit. At the last minute, half to himself, Brad muttered, “And she saw them kiss. Real quick, on the lips, but it was a kiss nonetheless.”

“You can’t seriously think that’s okay?” Steve asked as the server showed up with a tray full of shots, clearly assuming the empty lemon drops and whiskey glasses were all once filled with whiskey. Owen was secretly happy she hadn’t figured it the other way around, but didn’t think Brad would agree. Owen waved her over, as discreetly as he could, pulling out his credit card and handing it to her.

“Can you bring over a round of lemon drop shots, please?” he whispered. He smiled. This situation never would have happened if he was out with his Marines. He got up and walked to the jukebox, letting Brad and Steve have a moment alone. He flipped through the discs, nothing catching his eye until he got to Shania Twain. The top song on her list was the song Paige butchered earlier that day.

Paige was everywhere, wasn’t she? She always would be, too. Owen put away his money, headed back to the guys.

Back at the table, Brad asked him what he thought.

“It doesn’t look good, man,” Owen admitted. “Where was she supposed to be the day Paige saw her?”

Brad’s face fell and he cleared his throat for what seemed like the hundredth time. “At a job interview.”

“Where?” Steve wanted to know. He paced the sticky floor again, his hands on his hips, looking very much like the guy who found out his girlfriend might be cheating, not the friend trying to talk the jilted one off a ledge. He would stop, look up at Brad like he was about to say something, and then go back to walking a hole in the hardwood floors of the bar.

“Helena.”

Steve laughed, a cold, short burst that reminded Owen of the machine gun fire he’d lived with as background music overseas.

“I’ll tell you what it looks like,” Steve chimed in, his smile devoid of any humor. “It looks like she and your ‘best friend’ are shacking up and you don’t want to admit it.”

Owen winced. Steve was right, of course, but being right and being tactful didn’t seem to go hand in hand with him.

“I don’t disagree, but maybe there’s an explanation you haven’t thought of, yet,” Owen started.

Steve snorted, but sat down again, apparently interested. The server came back with the lemon drops, and Brad wasted no time throwing one back like a frat kid on a Friday night. Owen and Steve each took one of the whiskeys and followed suit. The sting as it went down reminded Owen of nights he’d stayed up like this, shooting shit-for-liquor to help a fellow Marine through a divorce, a pregnant girlfriend, or the millions of other distractions that got in the way between the men and their missions.

He would have been fucked if he’d have met Paige during his time in the Corps. There was no way he’d be mission-ready after the number she’d pulled on him. That he’d let her pull on him, his conscience reminded him. He tossed back another shot to silence that part of his brain. He didn’t need logic working against him tonight.

“She could have had the interview and run into Chris on her way back, had dinner, and then gone home.”

Steve nodded as he sipped on his beer.

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