Casanova Cowboy (A Morgan Mallory Story) (31 page)

BOOK: Casanova Cowboy (A Morgan Mallory Story)
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Chapter 38

I threw myself into the party scene in Incline. I would be out with Doug one night, Eric the next, and Brad the next. In between, Sally set me up to boat with whoever was on the lake on any given day. I went on a few dates: casual dinner or drinks. I quickly realized I wasn’t ready in that department, although I wanted to be.

I ran every
day and got tan and then tanner at the lake. I wallowed in the sunshine at the beach and boating. My surroundings were so pristine and beautiful that they were a constant reminder of a whole world out there. It was calming and peaceful and yet even this was not enough to dislodge Ryan from my mind. I had such a hard time comprehending what had gone through Ryan’s head. I wanted to keep him out of my thoughts, but it wasn’t easy.

“Here you go
,” Doug said as he shuffled through the mail he’d brought home.

             
I looked at the envelope and immediately recognized the writing.

             
“God damn her,” I said loudly.

             
“God damn who?” Doug asked.

             
“My mom,” I said angrily shaking the card.

I stood up with unopened card and paced in front of the couch
, looking at Ryan’s writing.


I made her promise she wouldn’t tell him where I was.”

             
Doug watched me from the kitchen with a curious expression.

“Uh,” I said as I moved to the kitchen and
leaned against the counter by the phone.

I
flipped the card over and over in my hand, my blood boiling.

             
“Aren’t you going to open it?” Doug asked.

             
“I want to burn it, without opening it, but I’m not strong enough. Shit,” I said, rolling my head backward and then to the side.

             
I could feel instant tension in my neck, the muscles just seizing with a dull ache. Doug came and put his arm around me and gave me a comforting type of hug.

             
“Open it. You’ve got a good shoulder,” he said.

             
He waited while I opened the card and read it. It was a belated birthday card. “I hope it was a good one. I’ve been thinking about you. Love, Ryan”. I wanted to kill my mother. I read the card again.

             
“What does that mean?
I’ve been thinking about you?
Is he fucking kidding me? Why would he send a card like that?” I asked, throwing the card on the counter.

             
Doug picked the card up and read it.

             
“Why?” I asked.

             
I looked into Doug’s eyes when he finished.

             
“I don’t know. Maybe he’s been thinking about you,” he said.

             
I slapped at his chest and he jumped backwards with a grin.


That’s such a guy answer,” I said, feeling miserable.

             
He came and drew me to him, hugging me tightly. I pictured Ryan’s face. I saw us line dancing and laughing when we made mistakes. I saw him standing at the condo, his boots and cowboy hat on. Doug held me, massaging my neck, trying to ease some of the tightness I knew he could feel.

“Just that tiny little card do all this damage?” he teased.

“It’s probably a build up,” I said letting his fingers dig into the knots.

When he pulled away
, he gave me a smile.

             
“You’ll be okay,” he reassured. “I know you will.”

             
“I know I will too,” I said. “I just don’t get it. He’s the one who ended it. I’m so pissed at my mom. It’s not like he found me here. She told him, gave him the fucking address.”

             
He picked up the receiver holding it towards me.

             
“Call her. Get it out,” he said, challenging me.

             
I dialed her number and it rang several times before she answered.

             
“Mom, you promised,” I said tersely.

             
I could picture her standing by the desk near the kitchen, tapping out a cigarette in nervousness. I heard the lighter click and then a drag.

             
“I’m sorry, honey. He asked and then asked again. I told him you didn’t want to hear from him, and he said it was just a birthday card. That he didn’t want you to think he forgot it.”

             
I tilted my head back in frustration.

             
“Mom, can’t you see how stupid that sounds? He tells me he’s not in love with me, moves to who knows where, and then worries that he forgot my birthday? That’s whack job,” I said.

             
Doug watched me and then opened a bottle of wine and poured me a glass; a man who clearly knew how to handle a crisis.

             
“I love you,” I mouthed to him.

             
He leaned in, kissing me on the cheek before he disappeared down the hall.

             
“I’m sorry,” she said again. “What did he say?”

             
“He said he’s thinking about me.
Not I miss you, I love you, I can’t live without you
. I don’t get it.”

             
“I’ve been talking to him. He does miss you,” she said sorrowfully.

             
I wanted to throttle her.

             
“Mom, I’m warning you. Do not meddle. I mean it. I don’t want to come home and have you poking fingers in my business. Ryan made it crystal clear the day he moved out. It’s over, Mom.”

             
“It’s heartbreaking to me,” she said.

             
“Get over that too,” I demanded. “Do not meddle.”

             
I hung up on her. I was so incredibly angry. I felt totally betrayed by her.

             
“It’s because she loves you,” Doug said, returning to the kitchen.

             
I was physically hot from my anger; I pushed my hair back and held it up off my neck.

             
“Can we go out tonight and get trashed?” I asked.

             
“I have to work sweetie, but Brad is off. Let’s call him, see what his plans are,” Doug offered as he picked up the phone and dialed the restaurant.

             
“Brad still there?” he asked whoever answered the phone.

             
He shook his head yes and waited.

             
“Brad,” he said, “Morgan needs to get trashed tonight, you got plans?”

             
I couldn’t help but laugh at the way he said it; I knew he was trying to be funny. The boys were so kind, like big brothers looking after me, helping however they could. I felt like a wounded bird they were trying to coddle and heal. Doug listened to Brad and then hung up.

             
“He was planning to take the boat out tonight. He’s off at seven, and he says to tell you to be ready. It gets pretty cool on the lake at night, so bring some warm stuff,” Doug cautioned.

             
“I know,” I said relieved that there was a distraction. “Thanks.”

             
Brad showed up at half past seven and backed his truck in up to the boat, waving when he saw me standing in the driveway. I watched while he lowered the hitch and attached it to the truck, put the chains on, and latched it down.

             
“Thanks for getting the cover off the boat,” he said to me as he headed into the house. “I’m gonna grab a few things and then we’re off.”

             
Unlike Doug Brad had brown hair and a darker complexion, and he was taller than Doug. His hazel eyes screamed bad boy, in the way he looked at you.

“Anything else I can do?”

“Naw,” he winked. “Be right back.”

H
e was a looker; his jaw was square, on the edgy, sort of sexy, side, a little rougher. Brad was a player, and he didn’t care that people knew it. In the past, he was the type of guy I had been attracted to.

             
“I’ll wait in the truck,” I said opening his truck door.

We hi
t a convenience store that sold liquor and gas, and Brad filled up the boat while I bought the booze. Wine, beer, tequila; Brad liked whiskey, so I bought a small bottle of that too. I knew some of his friends were coming, so I figured too much versus too little was better. Brad jumped up into the boat and loaded the liquor into the ice chests on board. I could hear the ice clink on the glass bottles as he dumped the bags in.

“We’re ready
,” he said, jumping down off the back of the boat with a thump.

I
t was already getting dark when he pulled out of the store.

“Your friends meeting us on the beach?”

“Yeah.”

Once we arrived at the launch ramp
Brad backed the boat down expertly and got out of the cab.

“What can I do?”

“I got it,” he said as he released the cables on the trailer, pushed it out into the water and jumped on the bow.

H
e climbed around the windshield and started the boat, turning on the lights, backing up, and then beaching it. It was obvious he’d done this by himself more than once.

“Piece a cake,” h
e said climbing back in to park the truck.

“I got some blow
,” he said. “You want some?”

             
“Of course I want some,” I answered gladly. “By the way, that was slick with the boat.”

             
The last time I did cocaine was with Mathew, another lifetime ago. I tried to remember the feelings, the desperation, the hurt. I was a different girl then, I viewed my younger self as naive. The hurt now was about Ryan, what I thought was true love, once-in-a-lifetime love.
Don’t think about it
I told myself.

             
Brad pulled a mirror out of the glove box and we each snorted a couple lines. He sniffed then checked his nose in the rear view mirror.

             
“I’m not sharing with anyone else,” he said with a grin. “So don’t say anything.”

             
He locked the truck, and we headed back to the beach and the boat. When we got there, a couple of his friends I’d already met had arrived.

             
“Let’s party,” Brad yelled.

 

Chapter 39

It was two in the morning when we dropped off the last two people back on the beach. We watched as they made their way through the dimly lit parking lot.

“You don’t want to go home
, do you?” Brad asked. “Nights young, and we still have some coke left.”

By the gleam in his eye I could tell he wasn’t near ready to quit partying.

              “No, I don’t want to go home,” I assured him.

             
“Good,” he said, backing the boat from the beach.

He swung it around and headed back out
into the lake. As the boat started going faster, slicing through the water like a knife, the cold got to me, and I went downstairs, grabbed a blanket, and wrapped it around me.


That air gets chilly,” I said with a shiver as I sat back in the passenger seat.

“I know, I love it,” Brad said as he stood at the wheel his hair blowing back behind him.

Seated I was somewhat sheltered from the stream of air.

We’
d partied pretty hard. At one point, I had been fairly trashed, but it had worn off a little now, and I felt somewhat sober. I’m sure the cold and the coke were helping too. The lake was so calm and still, and we seemed to be the only boat on it. A few lights dotted the shoreline, but mostly it was black.
It’s so serene; the world should always be like this.

Brad
finally pulled the throttle back, and the boat glided to a stop. He shut off the engine, then went below to turn the music on. I looked up at the stars. I saw the three bright stars of Orion’s Belt.

“Shot of something
? Tequila? Whiskey?” Brad asked from below.

“No
, but I will have some wine if there’s any left,” I said, passing my glass to his upraised hand.

He dug in the ice chest
, bottles clanking against each other.

“Here
,” he said, reaching up from below.

“Thank
s,” I said, taking the glass.

He disappeared again.
I could hear him cutting coke on the mirror and knew he was working on the last of it. I figured we were destined to see daylight. Brad came up with the mirror and a beer. He handed the mirror to me, and I set my wine down in the dashboard cup holder.

“Thanks,” I said and then snorted two lines.

He took
a seat opposite me and I handed him the mirror. The boat rocked gently, water quietly lapping at the sides.

“I haven’t pulled an all-
nighter in years. Forgot how much fun they can be,” I said, pulling the blanket tighter around me.

“You still cold
?” he asked.

“Tiny bit
.”

He got
up and moved to the back bench seat.

“Come
over here,” he said, patting the space next to him.

I
grabbed my wine and crept toward him holding the blanket around me as best I could with one hand. When I sat down, he put his arm around me, drawing me to him. He rubbed up and down my arm quickly.


Now tell me about this dude you’re running from.”

I hadn’t talked to Brad about
Ryan. We hadn’t been alone enough for it to come up. Usually, when I was with Brad, we were at a party or with a bunch of people.

“I’m not running from him
. I’m trying to get over him.”

“So fill me in
,” he said.

I adjusted myself slightly and reclined into him.
Definitely made a difference in my comfort level, he was warm.


Are you sure you want to hear my sad-ass story,” I joked.

“I don’t have any place to be
, might as well,” he said.

I started when
Ryan and I met and gave him the short version of how our relationship developed over the years. I tried my best to explain how the friendship developed into love, and how I thought it was the real deal. There were moments in my telling that my heart would ache. As I relived the experience through my words, I again marveled at my lack of insight, how I had misjudged actions and feelings.

“So you can ima
gine when he said he didn’t know if he was in love with me how much that hurt,” my voice broke and Brad gave me a squeeze. “Then to find out there might be someone else. That one was devastating.”

I felt a tear leak from my eye and run down my check. I lifted my shoulder to my face to wipe it away
. I didn’t want to cry.

“The girl
might be his excuse,” Brad said.

I turned to look into his face.

“His excuse? Why would he need an excuse?” I asked.

Some of
the tear must have remained as Brad lifted his hand and with his thumb wiped what he saw away.


It’s not easy to hurt someone, and to hurt someone you care about because you’re not sure of your feelings would be really rough. Think about it. If Ryan makes you believe there is a girl, he left you for something, rather than nothing. Like I said, she may be a convenient excuse. Or maybe he is a Casanova Cowboy like you said, and he never intends to settle down. I get that part,” Brad said.

I didn’t respond
, but Brad’s point made sense. It became a little clearer to me why Ryan was reluctant to leave the condo, why he stayed and didn’t go right away. He was confused about his own feelings; I’d sensed it. I had just hoped he would figure it out and not actually leave.

“Did you ask him to move out
, or did he just go?” he asked.

“I asked him
. I told him if he didn’t know, then he needed to go. I thought he would figure it out, especially when he didn’t pack up and leave. The day I got home and his things were gone…” my throat tightened and I could feel the tears pushing behind my eyes.

Brad gave me another reassuring squeeze.

“I knew he wasn’t going to figure it out. It was a struggle to finish school and get through graduation. It was hard to focus and not be an emotional mess. I still had to go home, back to our place, but it wasn’t our place anymore. It was driving me nuts, so I thought a change might do me good,” I explained.

“More wine?” he asked
, getting up.

I was surprised to see my glass was empty and
handed it to him. I looked out over the lake, it’s surface like black glass, smooth and dark, reflecting the stars filling the night sky above. It reminded me of that New Year’s in the desert: I heard his voice say “come camping, we’ll fly over”. I tried to remember why I said
yes
. If I had stuck to my guns and said
no
, I wouldn’t be here now, two years down the line with a broken heart. A stab of pain ripped through me and I wondered if his heart hurt at all. I heard Brad pop out the tape from the cassette player and put in a new one, then stir around in the ice chest again.

“Fuck,” he swore
when he hit his shin as he came up.

Brad was tall and the cubby was small.
I stifled a giggle as he handed me my glass.

“Do y
ou still love Ryan?” Brad asked, resuming his position.

I snuggled into him
, glad to have his warmth back.

             
“Unfortunately,” I said slowly, “yes.”

             
“Is this the first time you’ve been in love?” he asked.

             
“No. There was one other time.”

             
“What happened with that one?” he asked.

             
He adjusted us so I was leaning against his chest.

             
“Another long story, another friend-turned-love-affair that didn’t work out. It was on-and-off for a lot of years, and in the end, it was like with Ryan, although Mathew, that was his name, never said it straight out. I felt like his heart wasn’t in it completely,” I said.

             
“How come?” he questioned. “What made you think that if he didn’t tell you?”

             
“He was too much like you, thought he was in love with all the girls,” I said, pushing against him.

             
“Nothing wrong with that,” he chuckled.

             
“There is if you’re in love, and you know you don’t want anyone else, ever,” I said.

             
Sadness washed over me. I recalled the moment I’d realized Ryan was the one.

             
“I can’t imagine that,” he said abruptly.

             
“I think that was Mathew’s problem too. He wanted me, but he wasn’t positive that I was the one. That he might miss the one around the corner. Haven’t you ever been in love, Brad?” I asked, turning to look at him.

             
“I’m in love every time,” he said grinning.

             
I laughed. He shifted behind me and I sat forward and let him get up. He made his way into the cubby and changed the tape. Fleetwood Mac came out of the speakers: “You Can Go Your Own Way”. I loved it when he came back and wrapped himself around me.
Oh, to feel a man’s strong arms
.

“Good luck with that one.
I think most men don’t want to give up the game. Don’t get me wrong. The game can be fun, but I don’t want to play it forever. The hardest part about Ryan is I didn’t just lose someone I loved, I also lost my best friend. We’ve known each other almost eight years. He’s friends with my family. Shit,” I said, a thought suddenly popping into my head.


Shit
what?” he asked.

             
“My parents, my mom… How is that going to work? He brings his dog to Mom’s almost daily. Sooner or later I’m going to run into him,” I said.

             
“Forget him, Morgan, there will be another. Once you’re over him, it won’t matter anymore,” he encouraged.

             
The sky was starting to get lighter, the stars fading, a new day, one more toward forgetting. Brad took a corner of the blanket and pulled it to wrap around the two of us, and I rested my head on his shoulder.

             
“My first sunrise on Lake Tahoe, how cool is that?” I murmured.

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