“It sucks. It’s going to take a while, and I just … I’m trying to cope.”
I think about her lying in my bed a few nights ago, begging for me to go harder, to be rougher. I wonder if I should’ve said no, but I also knew she needed it.
Was it wrong of me to sleep with her when she was in this state?
Guilt eats my insides.
“Is there anything else I can do?”
She shakes her head. “No. You’ve been a good friend, Duke.”
I try to ignore the sting of that word—friend.
“I talked to Rosie about the rent. She said I can use the money for the lawyer, but I swear I’ll pay it back. I?—”
“I don’t want any money from you. I just want to know what I can do to help you through this.”
Her eyes soften. She reaches for my hand, sliding hers into mine. “What I need right now is a friend, okay? This is going to be an ugly, messy fight. You’re young; you don’t need to be dragged into it any more than you already have. You could get anyone, Duke. You should find some girl fresh out of college, who wants to live on the ranch and give you four of your own babies. Like Holden and Rosie.”
Her eyes say what her words don’t. She doesn’t want me to get involved in her mess. She wants me to move on. To find a wholesome, less-damaged woman to loveand commit to.
I open my mouth to tell her that’s not what I want, but the sound of tires on the gravel behind me draws my attention away.
I turn to see a shiny black Denali truck pulling up. The driver’s door opens, and the gray-haired man from the bar steps out.
He’s wearing a black cowboy hat, a nice button-down tucked into his jeans, and snakeskin cowboy boots. He looks like a wealthy, self-assured older man, probably with a 401(k) and at least one ex-wife. He approaches the porch and stops at the steps.
He smiles at Dallas before his eyes flicker over me. “Is now a bad time?”
“No. Not at all. I was just discussing my rent with Duke. This is his family’s property.” Dallas steps down to where he is.
“You look beautiful,” he says.
“Thank you.”
“Hungry?”
“Starving.”
He leads her over to the passenger side of the truck, and I feel like my chest is caving in.
23
DALLAS
Ihate myself right now. I’ve never felt such an immense amount of self-loathing.
The date with Scott is going well, despite my sour mood. He’s a gentleman. He opens the door to the restaurant for me, and he picks up the check after dinner.
We stayed in La Pradera, at my request. There’s only one nice steak house in town, which I’ve never even been to. When we leave, he asks if I want to get a drink at Old Harry’s.
“Let me check in on my boys, make sure they don’t need me.”
“Sure.”
We’re walking along the street of the old town square near the courthouse. It looks like something out of a historic movie, only with electric lampposts and traffic lights.
I pull up my phone and text my mom.
