the eye. “I'm starting to see why you won't forgive me."
"I forgave you the other night, before I picked you up from jail. See I realized that I was the one wasting my time and ruining my life. The twelve months you were gone, you were living, like you always did when you left. I was dying, like I always did when you left.” He gave up on waiting for a waitress. His throat was dry and scratchy, like sandpaper. His lips felt strange, dirty for some reason. “You gonna finish that tea?"
He grabbed the glass as she pushed it toward him. He drank the rest of it down. It helped, a little. The other woman's lips still marked his own. Chance watched him quietly. She didn't throw a tantrum. She didn't yell or curse. That made him nervous. She was known to throw a fit over small things.
"Are you ready?” She smiled at him. His heart lodged in his throat as he looked into the eyes of the woman he loved. Guilt was a live thing, just from a kiss. In that instant, he knew she didn't lie about other men. She wouldn't have been able to live with it.
"Desperado” started up as they walked out. The crisp Montana breeze cleaned the smoke off of them. It smelled good after the stuffiness of the bar. The music was low, but he could hear it. Chance seemed so ... broken. He didn't mean to hurt her. “Hey."
"What?” She glanced up at him.
"One dance, for old time's sake?” He tugged at her hand and pulled her against him. Now, this felt right, her nose in his neck, her hips close to his, two arms around his back. Shit! He hadn't pushed her out of his heart at all! And here she was, after what he just did, wrapping herself around him like it didn't happen. “This is your song, you know."
She made a small laugh of a sound then hugged him even tighter. “I know."
Okay, so he would give up for tonight. Maybe for the week, maybe even until his mom left. After all, it would break his mother's heart to know they split up again. His mother loved Chance, probably more than she loved him, always had.
He inhaled the scent of her hair, relished the moment of peace between them, and admitted to himself that he always loved her, too, but he wouldn't fall for her again. He would hold himself on a tight leash.
"Heath, I love you.” She pulled back to look at him when she said it. He couldn't say it back though the words threatened to fall off his lips, so he kissed her. It was a gentle kiss, a kiss to eat those words right out of her mouth before he swallowed them into his soul.
"Let's go home,” he said as he looked down at her. Chance was always a pretty girl, but she had turned into a beautiful woman. Maybe there was a reason she ran from him. He really never knew why she was always in and out of town when she was younger. Just that they had fun while she was home, and he missed her while she was away. It was easier then. He was younger and occupied his time with work, the classes he was sneaking on the side, and other women.
Heath opened the door to the driver's side of the truck and helped her in. She remained in the middle, next to him.
"Heath,” she said as they pulled out of the parking lot and headed home. “I don't blame you for not liking me right now. I haven't really liked myself in a long time."
"What are you talking about?” Her statement caught him off guard. She was always full of life and energy. She flounced herself around like she owned the whole state. She was invincible, or so she would act.
"I don't know.” She shrugged.
"Yes, you do. Tell me. You talk to everyone else but me. Always did.” He gave her a sideways grimace. “You listened to me talk about my dreams; you never told me anything about your own. I thought our dreams were the same because of that. Did you ever realize the only time you ever really talked to me was when you yelled? Otherwise, you just listened and nodded. I swear sometimes I thought I lived with two different women."
"It's a long story.” She smiled, but it was not a genuine
"I forgave you the other night, before I picked you up from jail. See I realized that I was the one wasting my time and ruining my life. The twelve months you were gone, you were living, like you always did when you left. I was dying, like I always did when you left.” He gave up on waiting for a waitress. His throat was dry and scratchy, like sandpaper. His lips felt strange, dirty for some reason. “You gonna finish that tea?"
He grabbed the glass as she pushed it toward him. He drank the rest of it down. It helped, a little. The other woman's lips still marked his own. Chance watched him quietly. She didn't throw a tantrum. She didn't yell or curse. That made him nervous. She was known to throw a fit over small things.
"Are you ready?” She smiled at him. His heart lodged in his throat as he looked into the eyes of the woman he loved. Guilt was a live thing, just from a kiss. In that instant, he knew she didn't lie about other men. She wouldn't have been able to live with it.
"Desperado” started up as they walked out. The crisp Montana breeze cleaned the smoke off of them. It smelled good after the stuffiness of the bar. The music was low, but he could hear it. Chance seemed so ... broken. He didn't mean to hurt her. “Hey."
"What?” She glanced up at him.
"One dance, for old time's sake?” He tugged at her hand and pulled her against him. Now, this felt right, her nose in his neck, her hips close to his, two arms around his back. Shit! He hadn't pushed her out of his heart at all! And here she was, after what he just did, wrapping herself around him like it didn't happen. “This is your song, you know."
She made a small laugh of a sound then hugged him even tighter. “I know."
Okay, so he would give up for tonight. Maybe for the week, maybe even until his mom left. After all, it would break his mother's heart to know they split up again. His mother loved Chance, probably more than she loved him, always had.
He inhaled the scent of her hair, relished the moment of peace between them, and admitted to himself that he always loved her, too, but he wouldn't fall for her again. He would hold himself on a tight leash.
"Heath, I love you.” She pulled back to look at him when she said it. He couldn't say it back though the words threatened to fall off his lips, so he kissed her. It was a gentle kiss, a kiss to eat those words right out of her mouth before he swallowed them into his soul.
"Let's go home,” he said as he looked down at her. Chance was always a pretty girl, but she had turned into a beautiful woman. Maybe there was a reason she ran from him. He really never knew why she was always in and out of town when she was younger. Just that they had fun while she was home, and he missed her while she was away. It was easier then. He was younger and occupied his time with work, the classes he was sneaking on the side, and other women.
Heath opened the door to the driver's side of the truck and helped her in. She remained in the middle, next to him.
"Heath,” she said as they pulled out of the parking lot and headed home. “I don't blame you for not liking me right now. I haven't really liked myself in a long time."
"What are you talking about?” Her statement caught him off guard. She was always full of life and energy. She flounced herself around like she owned the whole state. She was invincible, or so she would act.
"I don't know.” She shrugged.
"Yes, you do. Tell me. You talk to everyone else but me. Always did.” He gave her a sideways grimace. “You listened to me talk about my dreams; you never told me anything about your own. I thought our dreams were the same because of that. Did you ever realize the only time you ever really talked to me was when you yelled? Otherwise, you just listened and nodded. I swear sometimes I thought I lived with two different women."
"It's a long story.” She smiled, but it was not a genuine
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