Page 39 of Any Cowboy of Mine
“Well, then, here’s what I think about you and this Sophie gal. She’s pretty great, and you’re, well, you’re okay, too, I guess.” He winked and continued. “And you like her, huh?”
Brad nodded, unable to speak through the eggs and toast he’d shoved in his mouth.
“Then don’t let her go. This life is too short, and you’ve been through too much to settle another damn day. But you do me this favor, son.”
Brad nodded again, fighting against the heat that had built behind his eyelids at his dad’s little speech. “What’s that?”
“Ask the lady what she wants, and don’t stop until you’ve made sure you’ve given it to her, okay?”
Brad smiled, and swallowed back tears, along with the eggs and bread.
“I can do that,” he told his father.
“I thought so. Now get on back to that room. You don’t wanna serve her up cold food, now, do you? Not a good way to start off your relationship.” Alan winked, and they both stood up. Brad embraced his dad tightly, hoping to convey without words how grateful he was to have an ally just then. “Merry Christmas, son.”
“Merry Christmas, Dad.” With that, Brad rewrapped his food and put it back in the bag. He ran out of the restaurant, desperate to share his conversation with his dad with Sophie.
He hurried his pace, sure for the first time in a long time that he was heading in the right direction.
CHAPTER TEN
Miscommunication
Sophie’s eyelids fluttered,finally opening to a mostly dark room. She’d heard something—the door?—and whatever it was had roused her. All she knew for certain was that she was in a hotel room. Brad’s hotel room. The shades had been drawn, which she was happy about, since it was absolutely morning already and she didn’t think the vice grip on her temples would be helped by severe daylight.
The dark room felt cool as well, like the heat hadn’t been on in a few hours. That, too, she was thankful for, except it made her never want to get out from underneath the down comforter. Maybe she’d get one of those for her apartment, but then she might never actually go looking for a job. She tried to sit up but fell back down to the cloud-like pillow before she was even resting on her elbows.
Oof.She felt awful. She smacked her lips a few times, licking some moisture back into them, but otherwise felt as dry as the Sahara in summer. And she needed to brush her teeth something fierce. She glanced over her shoulder for Brad, but he wasn’t in bed anymore. How was it possible he was up before her? He’d had a few more shots than her and something told her that wasn’t something he did very often. He had to be as bad off as she was this morning, though she hoped not for his sake.
Maybe it was silly of her, but she didn’t wish anything bad on him, not even something as innocuous as a hangover. In fact, she was left not only with a taste of stale lemon drop shots in her mouth, but also a lingering feeling of protectiveness over Brad after last night. He’d been hurt by Julia, she’d seen that firsthand, and it certainly hadn’t helped that Steve and Jackie had announced they wanted to get married.
Married!Sophie still didn’t have any clarity about that situation this morning, but maybe she and Brad could make a game plan about how to attack it when she finally got around to seeking him out.
First, though, her teeth.
She rolled to the edge of the bed, sort of half-tumbled out of it to walk to the bathroom and remedy that before she sought out Brad. Her mind and head spun in different directions, making her dizzy. It was impossible to stand so she sat on the floor instead. She didn’t feel nauseated, thankfully, but she was hurting all the same.
Ooh.She rubbed her head, her cold skin calming the ridiculous headache that thrummed behind her temple. Now she remembered why she didn’t go out all that often. She didn’t know how Jackie did this on a regular basis. She braced herself on the edge of the bed and used her arms to push up, slower this time, to see how her head fared.
It was better when she was standing, but it still took her a minute to get her bearings. She shuffled to the bathroom, noting the water beading on the glass door to the shower. Brad had already gotten up, showered, and was now who-knows-where, while she could barely stay upright. In that moment she cursed all men who miraculously recovered from bad nights of drinking, strenuous workouts, or heart-wrenching breakups like they’d never happened.
Following Brad’s steps like a trail, Sophie turned on the water to the shower and brushed her teeth while she let it get to the point where it was almost hot enough to take a layer of skin off. She’d fought with Drew endlessly about her need for scalding water to wash the day away, something he’d never understood.Add it to the list.When the temp was just right, Sophie stepped into the shower and let the heat massage her shoulders and lower back before she turned and ducked her head into the liquid flames, feeling the warmth take over from the outside in.
While she relished how the water had a way of transforming her, she let her thoughts wander to the night before. Somehow the stars had aligned, and she had spent a delicious night not sleeping with her college crush. There were so many individual memories that flooded her consciousness at once, like a bad movie montage where the hero learns to box or play the guitar in a matter of moments on-screen. This was the same, except she’d learned how making loveshouldhave been this whole time. It was like discovering that she’d been eating the wrong foods or studying the wrong books her whole life until then.
Either way, no matter how long she’d gone without, she didn’t want to move on in life—not even for a day—without Brad. He’d awakened her in every way a man could. Between the laughter, the passion, and the discussions, she felt like she’d been rebirthed on a cellular level. She wondered briefly whether he felt the same way about her, but she couldn’t let her mind overthink that particular thing until she could ask him face-to-face.
Speaking of Brad’s face, where was he?
She sat in the water with her memories from the night before for three minutes before she felt somewhat human again then ran through the requisite shampoo, soap, face wash routine quickly. No sooner did her feet hit the carpet than her stomach rumbled and her headache reappeared, erasing thoughts of Brad, even just temporarily.
Food.She needed greasy, awful, only-after-a-hangover food. With that one driving thought in mind, Sophie dressed quickly and kicked on some sandals she’d tucked in her bag at the last minute. Sure, it was Montana in the middle of winter, but her feet hurt so bad from those strappy sandals from last night that she couldn’t fathom putting on her constricting boots. Maybe the hotel had a breakfast menu? Her stomach answered loudly that it had better, or there would be mutiny.
Sophie grabbed her purse and was almost to the door, when, as an afterthought, she figured she should leave Brad a note to meet her down at the restaurant. She found the hotel stationary on the desk and jotted him a quick note. On a quick reread, though, she wondered if it sounded too demanding, like he’d better meet her or else.
Dammit.She was already overthinking this.
She tossed the note toward the trash can, but it caught the air like a paper airplane and missed. She grumbled when she bent down to grab the sheet of paper, her headache reminding her to hurry the heck up. She was about to put the sheet in the trash, when something caught her eye at the top of the can. It was a half-crumpled note in feminine handwriting, and it was addressed to Brad.
