‘Surely you have all the information you need for this thing?’
His voice is relaxed but his body is as tense as if he’s watching me step into the bull chute. I sweep my eyes over him, taking in the wide set of his legs, the way one hand is jammed into his pocket, the other gripping his coffee, and narrow my eyes slowly. ‘It shouldn’t take long,’ I say noncommittally. ‘Don’t worry, I’m not going to ask her to sell her soul for the sake of my article.’
A muscle throbs in his cheek as he clenches his jaw, but he doesn’t say anything else. A pit has opened up in my gut. I angle my face toward the window, looking down on the main street. I’m too shaken to even appreciate how beautiful it is, with the quaint old buildings and pretty flowers in pots lining the sidewalks. It’s quiet down there, except for the coffee shop, which is abuzz with early-morning activity. I take another sip; it doesn’t help.
‘Look, Bailey.’ His tone is gruff. ‘It’s not a big deal, but you should know, Ash and I—we used to have a thing.’
My heart stammers and trips. I slowly turn to face him. ‘What does that mean?’
‘We grew up together, and at some point, I guess we grew into each other.’ He walks toward the dressing table and rests his butt on the edge of it. Memories of last night slice through me, briefly disorientating me with their ferocious heat. ‘It was just a casual thing, when it worked.’
‘You were sleeping with her,’ I say for clarity, even when I don’t really need it.
That same muscle ticks as he moves his jaw, but he nods, once. ‘She’s one of my best friends.’ Like that explains it. Or like ithelps.Because Beau fucking around with random women he meets in bars is one thing, but imagining him making love to a woman he’s known since they were kids, running around this beautiful place together then falling into bed, is pulling at me in a way I haven’t felt since Kirk.
The sense of being shovedintothe huge abyss in my belly is impossible to fight. My free hand trembles a little; I curve it over the windowsill and hold on tight. ‘So?’ I say it like ‘why does that matter?’, but it’s a question I can’t answer myself. Why does it matter so much? He hasn’t done anything wrong. This isn’t a betrayal. He didn’t say he’s still sleeping with her, he very clearly used the past tense.
‘I just didn’t want you to be blindsided, if she mentioned it. Not that she probably will.’
I take another sip of coffee, but it’s almost impossible to swallow over the thickening in my throat. I’m being ridiculous. Of course Beau has a past, and of course some of his past is here in Goodnight. Why is the thought of him with someone else, someone Beth spoke of with such easy affection, sticking into me like a blade?
‘Thanks for the warning.’ I force a flicker of a smile. ‘But it’s really not a big deal. I’m well aware you have a vivid history, Beau. It’s none of my business who you did what with before we met, unless it’s relevant to the article.’
He frowns.
‘It’s fine,’ I assure him, even when I’m far from feeling it.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Bailey
I’ve never shied away from tackling a difficult angle in a story. In some ways, the grittier the better. So I’m ashamed, professionally, that I choose not to meet Ash.
Sure, she could tell me some stuff about Beau I might not know, but I don’t want to hear it from her. I don’t want to hear about him from a woman who’s known him like I know him, who knows him even better.
The thought of that sticks inside of me like a piece of glass. The further we get from Goodnight, the easier I breathe. But she’s still playing on my mind an hour after leaving the Silver Spur and started heading south, toward Phoenix.
He cranks up a country music station, the acoustic songs interspersed with radio DJs chattering away. I turn a little in my seat to face him, ignoring the hammering in my chest. ‘Why did you guys break up?’
He tenses ever so slightly, and doesn’t look at me.
‘You and Ash,’ I prompt after a beat, when he doesn’t answer my question.
‘We didn’t break up, exactly,’ he says, still hesitating.
I stay very still, trying not to betray the way his words cut into me. ‘What does that mean?’
He must hear the panic in my voice anyway, because he reaches out and puts a hand on mine. ‘We aren’t still together either.’
I can’t even dredge up a smile. I just nod and move my gaze back out the front windscreen, rather than keep looking at him.
‘It was just casual, you know?’
‘Like with us?’ I say, wanting him to deny it. I feel his eyes probing me, but when I glance in his direction his focus is back on the road in front of us.
‘Different.’ I expel a breath I hadn’t realised I’d been holding. ‘I’ve known her since we were kids, and the other stuff just kind of happened.’
‘So, what? You both just fell into bed?’
