The Care and Feeding of an Alpha Male (32 page)

Beth Ann choked on her sip of wine. She stared up at the women, incredulous and delighted. Her father supported her business? “What? Really?”

“It’s true,” Miranda said. “I heard he’s been trying to call you all week.”

She glanced over at her machine. She hadn’t been checking it. She’d closed the salon, and didn’t want to hear from the occasional stray customer. That’d just make things worse. The red light was on, but she’d thought it’d been a jillion calls from Allan. Or Colt, begging her to take him back.

Her gut clenched, sick at the thought. Sick, because she missed him and hated that she was so weak.

“Soooo,” Brenna sang, “this Jordan chick had to stop honoring the coupons, immediately. And when her clients found out
that they had to pay two hundred dollars for a haircut instead of forty bucks? The shit hit the fan. Her place has been deserted for days.”

Beth Ann swigged her wine, shaking her head in surprise. She hadn’t noticed. “Wow.”

“If you’d open your doors,” Miranda said encouragingly, “I’d bet some of your clients would come back.”

“Oh, oh,” Brenna said, hopping. “And I got six hundred dollars back from your landlord for you.” She pulled a wad of cash out of her bra and shoved it in Beth Ann’s hand. “Guess who was putting the heat on your landlord to raise your rent?”

“Allan?” she said in a flat voice.

“Biggest asshole ever,” Brenna singsonged. “Anyhow, your dad went and had a long talk with him and apparently Allan has vowed to leave you alone for a while. I heard he’s dating his secretary.”

Huh. She was suddenly filled with love and affection for her father. Beth Ann leaned in to get a piece of pizza. How sweet of her dad to step in for her when no one else would, not even Colt.

She stopped, holding the slice of pizza in her hand and staring at it. She hadn’t told Colt about Allan’s manipulations. She knew what he would have done if he’d have known—and she smiled, picturing Allan with a busted nose and two more black eyes. Strange how Beth Ann could feel such a vicious twist of glee in her stomach at the thought.

Then again, Colt had protected her before, in the past. He was always very protective of her. He glared at anyone that he thought might be making her uncomfortable.

An uneasy feeling shivered over her skin. She bit into the
pizza, trying not to think about it. She was just trying to paint a sunny picture of Colt, because that was what she always did. Right?

“Well?” Miranda asked.

“That
is
good gossip.”

“It is,” Brenna agreed, twisting Beth Ann’s long hair into a braid. “What else do you want to hear about?”

Beth Ann grinned as Miranda grabbed her foot and pulled it into her lap. She pulled out a toe spacer and pushed it between Beth Ann’s toes. So the makeover was going to be her own, was it? Her friends were the best. “What have you got?”

Miranda thought for a moment. “I could tell you all about who checked out
The Joy of Sex
from the library. Hint. It’s a man, and he’s eighty.”

Beth Ann giggled and took another swig of wine.

“That’s boring,” Brenna proclaimed.

“Well, do you have anything better?” Miranda said, giving Beth Ann a long-suffering look, and then refilled her paper cup with more wine when Beth Ann held it out.

“No,” Brenna said. “I’ve been busy following Pop around.”

“Pop?” Beth Ann asked between sips of wine.

“Colt’s dad. We call him Pop. Colt set him up in a cabin at the ranch, and now I keep breaking stuff so he has things to do.”

Beth Ann smiled at that, her heart hurting a little. “That’s sweet.”

Brenna shrugged, then grinned. “It drives Grant crazy, so I look at it as a personal challenge.”

She would.

“Pop’s an old sweetheart, though,” Brenna said with a smile,
grabbing the pink strand of Beth Ann’s hair and braiding it separately. “It’s just going to be a challenge keeping him at the ranch when Colt leaves.”

Her heart stuttered, thudded painfully. “Colt’s leaving?” Her voice was a thready whisper.

Miranda reached over and poured more wine into Beth Ann’s cup. “Drink up, girl.”

She looked at Miranda. “Is he really leaving?”

Her best friend’s eyes were sympathetic. “Dane says he’s having a rough time right now. He’s really upset.”

He wasn’t the only one, she thought with an ache in her chest.

“Dane says he’s going back to the cabin in Alaska in a few days. Wants to live off the grid again and all that crap.” Miranda shook her head. “It drives me crazy enough that Dane’s cabin doesn’t have electricity. I can’t imagine living completely out in the middle of nowhere by yourself for months on end.”

He’d been out there alone before recruiting Dane, licking his wounds after being discharged from the marines. And when Dane had showed up, they’d lived off the grid for a year. She remembered his joke about the mountain man beard.

Hurt and longing swirled through her. If he left this time, how long would he be gone? Would he miss her? The ache building in her chest told her that she’d miss him intensely. “Oh.”

Brenna just shrugged. “They love that survival shit. Happy as pigs in mud if you mention you need a fire built. They don’t seem to realize that it’s not fun for anyone else to think they’re stranded.” Her gaze went over to Beth Ann and she grimaced. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay. I’m not mad at you. I just don’t understand why
you didn’t say something to me earlier.” She’d seen Beth Ann and Colt together. She’d participated in making Beth Ann’s birthday cake, for crying out loud. And she’d never thought to hint that Colt might be with her for shady reasons?

Brenna shrugged her shoulders. “Because Colt’s my friend, too. And it was so obvious how totally in love he was with you. If I’d have known it’d hurt you like that, I’d have said something, though.”

It was so obvious how totally in love he was with you
. The words echoed in her head, and Beth Ann stared at her cup.

Miranda took that as a cue to refill it. “It doesn’t change the fact that he lied to her about it,” Miranda said defensively.

“No, it doesn’t,” Brenna replied. “I thought it was kind of a dick move, but then he seemed so happy about all of it that what could I say? You were happy, too,” she said with a nudge to Beth Ann’s shoulder. “Almost as happy as when he made you that cake.”

“Cake?” Miranda asked.

Beth Ann stared at her cup, now full.
Judge me by my actions
, he’d begged her.
I love you and I never meant to hurt you.

His actions. She thought of the time they’d spent together—his protectiveness of her, his slow, easy smile. The cake he’d made her. Him punching Allan for daring to insult her. The way he cuddled her close after sex. The way he devoured her with his eyes, as if he’d never seen anything half as tempting as her.

The way he’d looked so uncertain and defensive after he’d dropped her off at her salon after that first weekend. Asking her out, as if certain she was going to turn him down.

And she’d come on to him while drunk, too. He’d very gently pried her off of his body and held her instead.

Judge me by my actions
.

A knot formed in her throat. She didn’t know what to think. Her mind and her heart were trying to steer her in different directions. Beth Ann tossed back the remainder of her wine and grimaced at the taste.

Miranda held out the bottle. “You sure you want more? You never drink much.”

She took the bottle from Miranda’s hands and swigged directly from it as Brenna laughed. Her skin was prickling with awareness of the alcohol. Good. More and she’d maybe drown out the confusion in her heart. “I’ve turned over a new leaf in the last year,” Beth Ann said. “Not going to be used by men anymore. Not going to let anyone support me but me. Not going to care what others think. And right now, I want to get drunk with my friends.”

“Hear, hear,” Miranda said, and lifted her cup.

The next morning, Beth Ann woke up in her salon with a raging hangover. Dane had picked up Miranda and Brenna late last night, and while a drunken Miranda had showered kisses on Dane, he’d had to endure Brenna’s railing about how men were evil and should all go back to Alaska. And last night, that had suited drunk Beth Ann just fine.

But this morning, she felt regret. She drank a glass of water, took some aspirin, and laid back down on her air mattress, trying not to think about Colt leaving.

They’d broken up. He could leave if he wanted—she had no
pull on him anymore. But the thought of him leaving stabbed her with pain.

Did he miss her? Did he think about her when he was lying in bed at night? Did he miss her, too? Or was he just annoyed that he’d been found out?

He was Allan’s brother, and he’d kept that from her. Did he think she’d be okay with it when he finally revealed it? Have a nice laugh with him? It wasn’t funny. It hurt. And she was vaguely uneasy about sleeping with the brother of her ex-fiancé. Was there a motive? Had he decided to sleep with her simply because she’d been Allan’s and thus a challenge? It was no secret to anyone in town that Colt Waggoner and Allan Sunquist would always hate each other. What better way to get back at your rival than to nail the woman he still wanted?

It was just entirely too coincidental, and she’d been betrayed too many times in the past to turn a blind eye.

All she knew was that he’d hurt her. She’d told him trust was so important to her, and he’d never told her his secrets, even when he knew they’d hurt her. Especially then.

She suddenly wanted to talk to him. Beth Ann leapt out of bed, then groaned as her stomach lurched. Light crashed into her eyes. She fumbled for a pair of sunglasses in her bag that she kept tucked under the cot, and slid them on. Better. A quick glance in the mirror showed her hair still stuck in the random, crazy braids Brenna had made. Oh well. She threw on some jeans, changed her shirt, and then locked the salon, getting into her car. Well, after she got a coffee for her aching head. They’d looked at her funny in the coffee shop, no doubt thinking she’d
gone mad, what with her business problems and now her man problems.

She didn’t care. She didn’t care what a single person in town thought. And so she gave them all a cheerful smile as she grabbed her coffee and headed back to her car.

When she got to the ranch, though, her stomach turned at the sight of Colt’s Jeep, parked in the corner of the half-full parking lot. She pulled in and entered the main cabin. Brenna was the only one there, head cradled in her hands, her bangs bright purple. Oh. She only vaguely remembered suggesting it to Brenna last night. It had seemed like such a good idea after an entire bottle of wine. “Hey,” she said softly.

Brenna groaned and lay her cheek on her desk. “Go away. My head hates you.”

“Is Colt here?”

She shook her head and stared blearily at Beth Ann. Circles ringed her eyes. “He’s out with a class for the next five days. Hardcore group.”

She frowned. “It wasn’t on his calendar.”

Brenna yawned, then laid her head back on the desk. “He switched with Dane. They got all of Pop’s land cleaned up and he owed him a favor.”

“Oh.” Disappointment flared through her. She’d wanted to see him. “I think I left something in his cabin,” she lied. “Can I go—”

Brenna waved her away.

Beth Ann slipped out and headed over to Colt’s cabin. The overgrown grass around the cabins had been cut, the flagstones removed. It looked like a real lawn. She crept up the steps and knocked on the door. No answer, of course. She tried the knob—it
opened. Of course it did. No one would come out to his cabin but Colt. She paused for a moment, then stepped inside.

It was a mess. Surprise rocked through her. Colt was always so neat, so ordered. Dishes piled in the sink, and clothes lay strewn on the ground. She idly picked up one of his shirts and smelled it. It smelled like sweat, and like Colt. Her eyes pricked with tears. Why had he lied to her? She glanced over at the bed—it was unmade as well. Her hand moved to the edge of the mattress, and she ran her hand along it, then sat down on the edge.

She’d loved sleeping here in his arms. He’d kiss her ear, her temple, and then pull her in close and cuddle her before they went to sleep. As if he couldn’t get enough of touching her. That was nothing like Allan, who hadn’t even been interested in sex with her anymore.

Colt had loved her. Loved touching her. She sighed, lay down and put her head on his pillow. Her hand touched something underneath it, and she pulled it out.

One of her shirts. It was a pink one she often slept in. Why was it under his pillow? Warmth flushed through her as she pulled it to her chest. Did he hold it and think of her?

She set it down gently again and got up. Wishing for this wasn’t helping. She wanted Colt back in her life, but her need for him warred with her need to not always be the one to say “I forgive you.”

And she was going to drive herself crazy with all this speculation. She just needed to talk to him. Rationally. Calmly, now that she’d gotten all her hurt and anger out, and all that was left was this aching numbness that didn’t feel better being apart from him. It felt worse.

When she emerged from the cabin, Mr. Waggoner rode past on the riding lawnmower. She waved at him, her cheeks pinking a little as he turned the mower off and glanced at her, then back at his son’s cabin.

“How are you feeling?”

The man smiled. “Better than my boy is right now.”

Her smile faltered.

Mr. Waggoner looked chagrined. “Didn’t mean it like that, Beth Ann. He did a real bad thing, lying to you, and he’s paying for it now, I imagine.”

Beth Ann nodded slowly, crossing her arms over her chest. “I told him that I needed trust in a relationship, and he still lied to me.”

Pop nodded. “Been a hard month for that boy. First me going in the hospital, then the thing about his mom, and now losing you. I imagine that’s why he wants to run back to Alaska.”

She ignored the old man’s speculative look. “What stuff about his mom?”

Pop scratched his head. “’Bout his daddy not being me.”

Her breath caught. “What do you mean, ‘this month’ ? How long has he known?”