Page 34 of All for You

Rachel lets out a sardonic giggle. “Trust me, it was worse. I couldn’t even hack it in the community college I attended. Much to my mother’s dismay, I dropped out of a hospitality program because I absolutely hated it and got a job as an office clerk at a financial institution instead. And the joke’s on me because now I’m slinging hash at the Bluebonnet, living the dream.”

The way her lips quiver, the defiant tilt of her chin—it all calls to me, awakening a part of my soul. Here’s a woman who faced her share of setbacks yet still finds humor in the darkness. Her strength and resilience only make her more attractive. I want to wrap her in my arms and shield her from the world’s cruelty. But, like I did last night, I don’t because Rachel doesn’t need a man to save her.

“Did he hit you?” I have to know. And I’ll fucking chase the bastard down and give him a good ole Texas whoopin’ if necessary.

She shakes her head. “Last night was the first time he’s ever put his hands on me in anger. Believe me, I would have left long ago if he had. He preferred control and gaslighting. Honestly, I’ve never even seen him that drunk before.”

“What about you, Mr. Successful Rancher. I bet you went to some fancy Ivy League school, right?”

It’s the same tired story—people see success and the wealth but never the struggle behind it. The long nights, the sacrifices, the weight of family expectations. I consider letting it slide momentarily, retreating behind my usual stoic facade. But something about Rachel’s plight encourages me to open up, to show her the man behind the rancher.

“Hardly. I went to a small state college and studied Animal Science. I could’ve gone somewhere fancier—my siblings certainly did—but...” I shrug. “Family comes first. And I love it here. As the oldest, the ranch is my responsibility and my heritage. Especially after my dad died.”

Her expression softens. “So, you’ve always been a small-town ranch boy, huh?”

“If the boots fit,” I confirm. “Though it hasn’t always been smooth sailing. Ranching is not an easy life by any stretch.”

“What skeletons are hiding in that closet of yours?”

I frown. “I’ve had my share of relationship drama. Plus, an ex-wife who more interested in my bank account than me. She also didn’t enjoy small town or ranch life.”

She winces. “Is that why you’re so...” She gestures vaguely at me.

“So what?” I ask, my voice low.

She purses her lips. “So guarded. Like you’re always waiting for the other shoe to drop.”

Her observation hits uncomfortably close to home. I’ve always prided myself on being unreadable, yet here is a woman I barely know, seeing right through me.

My fingers drum on the table. “Maybe. Or perhaps it’s just who I am.”

She shakes her head. “I don’t buy that for a second. Nobody’s born that cynical.”

I grind my back molars together. “And what about you, huh? What’s your excuse for sticking around town?”

She averts her eyes. “I told you. I failed and disappointed people back home in the city, so whynotstay here. Nobody knows anything about me. I can start fresh and be whoever I want.”

“I think there’s more to it than that.” I’m pushing, letting my frustrations and insecurities color my judgment. But I can’t back down. Something tells me Rachel needs this confrontation as much as I do.

Her hands ball into small fists. “You want the truth? Fine. I ran. I ran from a mother who’s always wanted a skinny socialite for a daughter and a from a relationship that was slowly killing me. I ran from a man who made me doubt everything about myself both at work and in our personal lives. I was never good enough for either of them. I was too fat, too ugly, too boring. I didn’t wear the right clothes or have the best haircuts. My makeup wasn’t flawless. I couldn’t make small talk or impress rich bankers with my wit. I didn’t fit in. Happy now?”

Memories of my own failed marriage flash through my mind. Desperate to reach out and comfort her but feeling like a total asshole for grilling her, I restrain myself, unsure of where we stand. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to?—”

“No, you’re right,” she cuts me off. “I’ve been hiding. Playing it safe. But do you know what? I’m tired of it. I deserve to be as happy as the next person. To be loved and appreciated for me, what I look like, and how I think.”

For years, I’ve convinced myself that I was content with my solitary life, that I didn’t need or want anything more. I nod slowly. “I get that. More than you know.”

She meets my gaze, a sultry tone in her voice. “So, what are we gonna do about it?”

My lips quirk into a half-smile. “Well, honey, I reckon that’s up to us.”

Rachel tilts her head and stares at me with a thoughtful expression. “You know, for a guarded cynic, you’re not half bad at this whole opening up thing.”

I huff. “Don’t get used to it. I’ve got a reputation to maintain.”

She rolls her eyes. “Heaven forbid anyone think you have actual feelings.”

“Perish the thought,” I agree dryly. “So, what’s next? Still dreaming of big city lights?”

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