She arched an eyebrow at me. “In my experience, there’s nothing more dramatic than a man who truly believes he’s successfully repressing his emotions when in reality they’re leading him around by the balls.”
It was hard to argue with that when I was sitting out here in the cold November air instead of inside where it was warm, spending time with someone I loved.
I blew out a breath, sending a white cloud of steam into the air. “A horse died today,” I said quietly. “I really thought I could save him, even though everyone told me it wasn’t likely. I thought if I just didn’t give up, that would be enough. It wasn’t. But I still wonder if maybe I should have tried more. Maybe I could have done something to convince Dr. Gunnell that I could do it. I shouldn’t have quit on him.”
She shook her head. “Dr. Gunnell is the best, and he isn’t going to put a horse down if it’s not necessary. If he said it’s time, then it was time.”
“Maybe.” My leg vibrated restlessly. “But maybe I could have…” My mind drew a blank. I couldn’t think of single thing I could have done that I hadn’t tried. Dammit, there had to be something. I just didn’t know what it was.
“Relentless,” Chloe said softly. She placed her hand on my leg under the blanket and I stilled. “That’s what Amy called you. She said when you care about something, you’re relentless. She was right. Even now, you’re still running it through your mind, trying to solve the problem, aren’t you? The horse is dead, and you still haven’t quit.”
“Yeah.” I scrubbed my hands over my unshaven jaw. “That’s what makes me stupid.”
“No, Steven. That’s what makes you great.” She scootched lower into the blanket and rested her head on my shoulder. “I’m sorry the horse died today. I’m sorry you’re hurting.”
I stared down at her dark hair spilling over my chest, genuinely shocked to my core. Chloe Adams…wassorry…I was hurting? I hesitated, waiting for agotcha!that never came.
“Thank you,” I roughed out.
We sat there a moment longer. I kept hurting.
But it felt a little lighter, somehow, with Chloe there beside me. A little more bearable.
“All right,” I said. “Let’s go inside.”
22
STEVEN
Pregnancy Week 12:Radish is the size of a plum.
Nice Chloe was a goddamn problem.I had thought living with a woman who hated me would be miserable, but living with a woman whodidn’thate me was so much worse. Because nice Chloe still teased me, still made biting, sarcastic remarks, still walked around looking likethat, but now it felt like foreplay. How the fuck was I supposed to keep my hands to myself?
Three weeks of living with her and I was a wreck of a man, a live wire of energy buzzing through my veins with no outlet to provide relief.
I needed to get laid. Something—someone—to take the edge off. Allow my blood to return to my brain where it was desperately needed. Because my brainknewthat Chloe would cut off my balls if I tried something with her. She was pregnant with another man’s baby, for fuck’s sake. But with all that blood flowing south, my brain had gone fucking stupid.
There was only one bar in Aspen Springs, so that Friday night, I sat my ass down on an ancient barstool that had witnessed many a bad decision, so why the hell not add mine tothe list. I hadn’t stepped foot in here since the mess with James two years ago. The original Hale had built the Painted Cat as a brothel during the Colorado gold rush. It had changed hands a generation ago, but it was still considered their stomping ground. I half expected one of them to be here tonight. Hell, maybe I even hoped for it. Fighting could be as cathartic as fucking.
“You shouldn’t be here.” The bartender braced her palms on the scarred pine bar top and glowered at me.
Shit. She was one of Chloe’s friends. I didn’t know she worked here. “Janie. The one who likes sunflowers,” I muttered. Fuck my life.
Her head tilted, a cascade of red hair falling over her shoulder. “How did you know I like sunflowers?”
“Chloe’s shoes. James likes columbine, Essie likes red roses, Hannah likes violets, you like sunflowers. Chloe likes peonies,” I said.Chloe. I had come here to get her out of my head, but she was proving to be surprisingly stubborn about it. She was probably home from work by now. The thought made me antsy, like I wanted to jump out of my skin and go find her.
Damn, I needed a drink.
Janie narrowed her eyes. “That’s right.” She studied me for a moment, then shook her head. “No. You still shouldn’t be here.”
I glanced around. I couldn’t blame her for not wanting trouble. “Any of the Hale brothers here tonight?”
“You got a problem with the Hale brothers?” a man two barstools down asked.
Something about his tone made the hair on the back of my neck stand straight up. He wasn’t anyone I recognized, and I knew most everyone in Aspen Springs by now. “No. The Hale brothers have a problem with me.”
“Why is that?” he asked. He turned on his barstool to look me squarely in the face, as casual as a lion surveying a herd of zebras and debating whether he could go for a little snack.
