Page 134 of Marry Me, Maybe?
I’d merely nodded when he said it that morning, but he was right. Hell, I’d nearly bled out under a barbed-wire fence. The thought of dying without at least trying to mend things with my mother gnawed at me worse than the healing wounds. I didn’t have forgiveness in me yet, not all the way, but I didn’t want to waste whatever time we had left either.
I felt guilty leaving the ranch, even for half a day. The storm had blown through only two days ago, and the land still wore the damage like the bruises on my body. Fence braces tilted at wrong angles. Twisted wire in the ditch. Cottonwoods had shed limbs as thick as my waist. Out in the south pastures, we’d lost a few calves, and half a dozenwaterers were smashed. In the north fields, shingles lay scattered all the way to the creek.
Hudson’s house took it hardest. The roof had already been on my fix-it list, and the hail punched through in three places. Two windows had blown out on the west side, and the wind had driven rain across the floors like we’d left the hose running indoors.
By the time the sky cleared, the rugs were sponges, and the couch smelled like a pond. We’d tarped and bucketed and mopped, but the damage was already done. Ivy had cried when she saw her room flooded, and Hudson had reassured her that we would replace everything, but I saw the set of his jaw, the way his shoulders rounded like he was bracing for another of life’s hits.
That night, we moved into the ranch house. Hudson and Ivy had a safe, dry place to live where they were comfortable. Still, when I thought of Hudson standing in his living room, mopping the floors alone because I was incapable of helping due to my hand, I got that tight, useless ache in my chest.
Hudson wasn’t fully comfortable living under the same roof as my father. Said it crossed professional boundaries. He’d even suggested he sleep in the bunkhouse, but I’d forbidden it.
If only I’d pushed harder to build on my parcel of land. We’d have had a place of our own to fall back on. That would change. As soon as the fences were back up and the herd settled, I would be on it. No more waiting.
Along the interstate, the foothills were a blue smudge, and Denver sharpened out of the haze ahead. The traffic thickened the closer I got to my mother’s condo, which was the sort of place that got photographed for magazines. Myname was on her list of guests, so I parked without issue and headed up to her condo.
Outside the door, I paced. I never called to let her know I was coming. Maybe because a part of me had hoped that she wouldn’t be in. Then I could have copped out with a valid excuse. But they would have informed her that she had a visitor, so there was no turning back.
Before I could ring the doorbell, the door opened. I blinked at a couple of women I recognized as my mother’s longtime friends, Judy and Verona. Behind them, my mother appeared in a soft gray pantsuit and diamonds. Even at home, she never looked quite relaxed but was always putting on a show. Hell, some of the clothes Hudson and I wore around the house had holes in them. Just a few days ago, he’d poked a finger through the hole in my shorts to grab my balls.
“Matthias!” Verona said, her lipstick shining as bright as her eyes. “Goodness, we haven’t seen you in quite a while.”
“Looking even more handsome than the last time I saw you,” Judy said, her hand fluttering against her pearl necklace like she’d just spotted an old movie star instead of a ranch hand who hadn’t shaved in two days. I looked a bit rough, but Hudson didn’t mind it, and each time Ivy ran her hand over my stubble, she giggled, said it was prickly, but did it again. “Why, if you weren’t gay, I’d have no shame in being a cougar.”
Heat crept up my neck, but I’d learned from past experiences that these socialites were lonely women who didn’t mind squeezing a nice-looking ass because they thought their husband’s money could buy anything—even young gay men.
I gave them a polite smile. “Sorry to interrupt your afternoon.I didn’t realize Mom was entertaining. I can run my errand and come back later if you’d like to finish.”
“Oh no, sweetheart.” Verona waved a manicured hand and shuffled outside, Judy in tow. “We’ll take our leave. We can have tea anytime. Plus, we’ll see each other tomorrow at the wine festival.”
Of course. There was always something going on in their circle.
Judy leaned in with a stage whisper, “She’s been missing you something terrible. It’s good you’re here.”
I bit down on my answer and managed a quiet, “Good to see you both.”
I stood awkwardly until they disappeared down the hall toward the elevator. Mom stepped aside. “Come on in. I’m so happy you’re here.”
“It was a last-minute decision.”
The door closed behind me. “Your father told me you had an accident. How bad is it?”
I frowned. “It felt worse in the moment, but as you can see, I’m fine. You still talk to Dad?”
“Of course. How else would I be able to learn about everything happening in your life?”
But was that a good thing? The last time she learned what was happening in my life, she ran off the man I loved.
I held my tongue and followed her out onto the balcony, where she’d indeed been entertaining. Tea turned out to be champagne and sushi.
“So you’re here on an errand?” Her voice was carefully even, but I caught the edge beneath it. “Does that mean you didn’t come to see me?”
I shifted my weight, the envelope in my jacket pocket burning. I took a seat, snagged one of the sushi pieces, andpopped it into my mouth. “You were one of the reasons,” I said honestly.
“Are you hungry?” she asked. “There’s more food in the fridge. You don’t have to eat the leftovers.”
“It’s fine. I’m not that hungry.” Just needed something to do with my hands.
“Something to drink, then?” She gestured at the half-empty champagne bottle.
