2
Sometimes a girl needs to drink by herself.
Unfortunately, I didn't want to be completely alone. Yes, I know that's a conflicting statement, but it's true.
Cam was working and I'd promised her dinner, so I compromised by picking up something from the diner and leaving it in the fridge at her house. I'd also written a note in huge block letters on the dry erase board hanging on the kitchen wall. She would see it as soon as she walked in. Was it a chickenshit way to go about it? Definitely, but I needed to stew, not talk, which was exactly what I would wind up doing if I was there when Cam got home from work.
That was how I ended up at The Red Boot on a Sunday night, just a few hours after the late lunch with Cam's family. Despite the name, it wasn't so much a honkytonk as a town watering hole. Which explained why they were open on a Sunday.
There was a stage, but tonight it was empty and the jukebox was playing an eclectic mix of country music and rock from the '70s and '80s.
The patrons were just as eclectic as the music, ranging from a group of elderly men playing cards at a table in the corner to boisterous young cowboys drinking beer at the bar. But even with the group of cowboys, it was a quiet night. The customers were here more to socialize and eat than get drunk.
However, I was here to have a few and dull the ache that had settled in my chest after lunch when Cam had gone to work and I was left alone.
I'd selected a stool at the end of the bar that was mostly shrouded in shadow. My left shoulder was against a wall and the stools next to me were taken by two women openly on the prowl, which seemed strange to me since it was a Sunday night. Was it weird to pick up a guy on what was supposed to be a holy day? Yes, these were the bizarre questions I often asked myself in my head. Or accidentally blurted aloud when I really didn't mean to.
However, I hadn't been in town long, so what did I know about the mating habits of the locals.
Their short skirts, sultry make-up, and artfully coiffed hair garnered a lot of male attention, which meant that I was all but ignored by the men who'd downed enough beer or gathered enough courage to come over to them.
And I liked it that way. At least for tonight.
I told myself I was nursing a broken heart but that would be a lie. More like drowning the pain caused by breaking someone else's heart.
Which was why I hadn't wanted to answer Colette when she asked me what happened with Brian. I knew that she would be even more disappointed in me when she found out what I'd done.
If I'd known that Brian was so serious about me, I would have ended our relationship months ago. But I had been traveling a lot for work and only saw him a few times a month. We texted and talked on the phone regularly, but I'd considered him more of a friend with benefits than a boyfriend.
He hadn't shared my viewpoint.
In his mind, I was the one. The woman he wanted to spend his life with and I'd been so oblivious that I'd had no clue.
Last month, I found out I'd gotten a promotion. He insisted we go out to celebrate somewhere special. He seemed excited that this promotion also meant that I wouldn't have to travel for work as much, but it hadn't clicked that he thought I'd be spending more time with him. That he wanted to take our relationship to the next level.
So, we'd both dressed up and gone to one of the nicest restaurants in Dallas. Then we'd taken a stroll, hand-in-hand. And, honestly, the romance of it made me uncomfortable. Because Brian was my friend with bennies, not my boyfriend.
Then, he'd stopped in a quiet spot and dropped to one knee in front of me. At first, I thought he'd tripped or needed to tie his shoe. Until he lifted a huge diamond solitaire toward me.
I stood there, frozen, as he said, "Sierra Watkins, I love you. Will you be my wife?"
To be absolutely honest, my first thought wasWhat the hell?
Unfortunately, my first thoughts often end up being the things I say as soon as I open my mouth. Which is exactly what happened.
"What the hell?" I whispered.
Immediately, I bit my lip and hoped Brian hadn't heard me, but he absolutely had.
He'd blinked and his wide smile and the twinkle in his eye had vanished. He'd released my hand and gotten to his feet. Even now, weeks later, I could still see his wounded expression.
"That was not the reaction I was expecting," he'd murmured.
It was my turn to blink. I'd never even told him I loved him. We hadn't discussed marriage or the future at any time unless it was when the next break in my travel schedule would be. How could he think I'd say yes when I hadn't even known he wanted to spend his life with me? Or how many kids he wanted? Or if he wanted to stay in the city when he got married or move to the suburbs? There were so many things we never talked about that I would need to know before I would evenconsidermarrying a man.
I hated that I put that look on his face because I didn't want to hurt him. I might not love him the way I should love the man I married, but I did care about him. I wanted good things for him and his life. I just didn't want the same thing he did.
"I'm sorry." My voice was gentle and soft because I hated that we were both in this position. "I shouldn't have said that. I was just...shocked."
