Page 11 of Owned By The Cowboy
“Exactly,” I grumble.
“So what’s the problem?” Martinez asks. “She’s single, you’re single. Seems straightforward to me.”
“It’s not straightforward.”
“Why not?”
“Because she’s…” I gesture vaguely, trying to find the words. “She’s educated. Classy. She was married to some rich asshole for years.”
“So?”
“So look at me. Look at where I came from.”
“I am looking at you,” Tommy says. “Looking at a great guy who owns a successful business, treats his employees like family, and has more money in the bank than most people see in a lifetime.”
“That’s not the point.”
“Then what is the point?”
The point is that I’m terrified. Terrified that if I let myself want her, really want her, she’ll take one look at my past and run. Terrified that years of keeping my guard up was the smart play, and I’m about to fuck it all up.
But I can’t say that. Not to my guys.
“The point is that she’s got three kids and a life to figure out. She doesn’t need a messed-up vet complicating things.”
“Did she say that?” Carlos asks.
“She doesn’t need to say it, brother.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
I don’t answer because I don’t have a good answer. Reggie’s never said anything about my past. Hell, she’s barely ever said anything to me over the years. Not that I gave her much of a chance to interact…
“Look,” Tommy cuts into my thoughts, “I get that you’re scared. But you can’t make decisions for other people. If you’reinterested, ask her out. If she says no, move on. But don’t decide for her that she’s not interested.”
“It’s not that simple.”
“It is that simple. You’re just making it complicated.”
“She’s got kids.”
“So? You like kids.”
“You know I don’t know shit about kids, man.”
“You know plenty,” Martinez says, rolling his eyes. “You’ve been good to my daughter. She still talks about that time you helped her with her science project.”
“That was different,” I mumble, palming the back of my neck.
“How was it different?” He shakes his head like I’m exhausting.
I don’t have an answer for that either.
“Look,” Carlos takes a turn, “here’s what I think. You’ve been carrying a torch for this woman for years. Now she’s single and living right next door to your house. You can either do something about it, or you can keep sitting on your ass, pretending you don’t want her.”
“I’m not pretending anything.”
“Bullshit. You haven’t been able to concentrate on anything since she got back. You burned the burgers, you’ve been snapping at everyone at work, and you just spent twenty minutes staring at your phone like a goddamn teenager.”
