But I know how that story between Macey and me would end. What we shared last night doesn’t translate into anything permanent. We both knew that going in. We always know that going in. We’ve been nothing but honest with each other from the start. And as much as the end hurts, the truth is I’d do it over and over again with her.
“How’d you sleep?” I say, hating how gruff my voice sounds.
Like I’m already missing her. Because I am.
“I slept great.” She leans in and kisses my cheek. “You don’t have to come with me to the hospital today, you know.”
“And yet, I insist. My dad even gave me the day off.”
Macey’s sitting up, looking around for her clothes, and my gaze snags on her bare breasts. My eyes stay fixated on her perfect, pink nipples even as she says, “Really? That doesn’t sound like Roy Wild.”
“I know. Ow!” I grab the side of my head where she just cuffed me. “What was that for?”
She pulls on her bra and gives me a look. “You were leering.”
I grin at her. “Was not. Only creepers leer. I was admiring.”
On goes her shirt. “Admiring?” She raises an eyebrow.
Knowing I’ve only got a couple more minutes while we’re in this intimate space before life returns to normal, I say, “That’s right. Admiring how you have the most beautiful tits I’ve ever seen.”
She raises her hand to swat at me again, but I catch her wrist in mid-air. Holding her still, I look her dead in the eyes. “I know every inch of your body, Macey. I know you have a freckle on your left breast and you wish you didn’t. I know you have a tiny mole on your right rib cage, and it reminds you of your childhood because your Mama tried to wash it off with soap.” I turn her wrist over and kiss the soft underside. Despite her squirming to get away from me, I keep going. “I know about this scar and how much your mama hurt you when she threw that beer bottle.”
“Logan…” she warns.
“Not just physically because shit…there was a lot of blood,” I go on, “but emotionally, I know this scar burns deep for you.”
Her expression changes suddenly, and I can’t read it.
“What?” I ask her. “What is it?”
She opens her mouth like she’s going to speak but then shuts it.
Shaking her head, she says simply, “Nothing. It’s okay.”
Before I can push her further, her phone rings, and she takes a call from her mother. Macey hugs me in relief and tells me her father’s out of ICU and into a regular room. She says the intervention is planned for this morning.
“Are you ready for it?” I ask her as we finish getting dressed.
“I never am.” She shoots me a wry smile. “Telling your daddy he’s about to be locked up for his own good? You’re the only person I know who understands how strange of an experience that is.”
I reach for her hand. “It’ll be okay.”
21
Macey
* * *
The intervention goes smoother than expected. Daddy’s so happy to be alive after “that damn bull” as he says, over and over, that he agrees to pretty much everything we throw at him.
Mama makes him swear he won’t kiss any more women who aren’t her. Riley begs him to stop complaining about Wink and how Riley can do better. Ben asks if he can please help out with the bar’s bookkeeping. Freedom tells Daddy he can’t ride his bike anymore.
As for me, my request is simple.
“I’ve spoken to Mayor Huggins,” I say. “He’s agreed to let The Cowherd keep its liquor license.”
Amidst the cheers, I hold up my hand. “With a small caveat.”
