Page 33 of Mister Cowboy
“I never played sports or had a lot of friends. Kids were nice, and it wasn’t that I didn’t get along with them or that they picked on me, I just wasn’t interested in doing the same things that they were. It wasn’t until high school that I struggled socially. Mostly with girls. I managed to get dates for dances and prom, things like that, but I never had a real girlfriend or anything.” He shrugged as if that wasn’t the most heartbreaking thing she’d ever heard.
“I knew, even then, I was going to live a lifestyle that few women would want to be a part of. I’d applied to college, and I spent nights and weekends coding and learning everything I could about programming. I didn’t know exactly what I wanted to do, but I knew my work ethic and interests were different from my peers.”
“Yeah, you really make the rest of us look bad with your ambition and dedication,” she teased, pushing him playfully with the pad of her foot. “My father would love for me to have that type of direction.”
“You have a good eye, and your clients all speak highly of you.”
“You actually called my references?”
He smiled and ran a hand through his hair. “No. I had my assistant call, but she said they all provided glowing recommendations.”
She smirked, not being all that surprised by the answer. He probably had a human resources department that handled all of that. “Well, it took me a while to figure out what I wanted to do as a career, so it isn’t totally my father’s fault for being skeptical of my choices. I majored in French for a semester, then I decided I wanted to be a writer and spent an entire year struggling through Shakespeare and British literature classes.” She shuddered at the reminder of the hours and hours of reading and deciphering she did in her small dorm room. A lazy smile crossed Brecken’s face, and she continued. “I finally settled on art appreciation with no idea what I was going to do with it when I graduated. I interned at an art gallery, I was a personal assistant, the list goes on. Suffice to say, it’s been a long road.”
“Is he supportive now?”
Blowing out a breath, she uncrossed her legs and leaned back on both elbows. “He tries to be. He’s traditional, and he worries about the perception of his daughter living with a man she isn’t married to and working at a bar at night.”
“Well, I don’t disagree with the last part.”
She rolled her eyes in his direction, and he grabbed her foot and yanked her toward him. “What is it with the bar? Michael would never put me in danger, and besides, I like helping him. He’s like family. I’d do anything for him.”
“Fair enough. It’s easy to see how close you two are. Did you two ever… wait, he is straight, isn’t he?” Brecken scrunched his eyebrows together as if he were considering whether Michael might be gay.
January laughed. “Yes, he’s straight. And we did go on a date. Just once. Freshman year of college. Most guys asked what party I’d be at or invited me to their dorm room in some weak attempt to get laid, but Michael picked me up at my door, handed me flowers, and whisked me away to a concert off campus.”
“So what happened?” Brecken asked, his tone tight and clipped.
“We had a great time. The best. But it never felt like a date. We laughed and sang and danced. We never really talked about it, we just became inseparable, but in a strictly platonic way.”
“What about your family? Were they supportive when you started your company?”
“My mother had already passed, but she would have been proud.”
“And your father?”
“I don’t know. I never spoke to him again after I left home for college.”
“Why?” The shock in her voice was apparent, and she chided herself for blurting out the first thing that came to mind. She’d blame it on the wine and the lack of sleep.
“It’s a long story and not important. I didn’t need his approval or support.” Abruptly, he stood and she watched him stalk to the kitchen with the empty wine bottles in hand.
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to pry.”
When he turned, there wasn’t even a hint of distress on his features.
“More wine?” He lifted another bottle in his hand a bit higher.
Glancing from him to the window, she noted that the dark sky was beginning to lighten. “What time is it?”
“Four thirty.”
“I can’t believe we stayed up all night.”
“Are you ready to go to bed?”
She shook her head. It was ridiculous, but she wanted every minute she could get with him. He was intriguing and she didn’t feel like she had a good read on him yet, which felt unsettling. “Actually, I’m not really tired.”
Walking across the room, he reached down and pulled her to her feet. “Good,” he rumbled. “Because what I had in mind doesn’t involve sleeping.”
