Page 3 of Wrong Number Right Cowboy
“For fuck’s sake,” I grumble, wondering how the hell she ended up dialing my number. But her confusing conversation makes a whole lot more sense now. “Does sheneeda ride?”
“We walked here.”
“Can you call your husband?”
“Jake’s at home with the kids. Abby’s currently puking her guts out. Sono, I can’t call my husband.” Melanie closes hereyes, taking a deep breath before reopening them. “Look, I don’t like this anymore than you do. But you know Rex is about two seconds from kicking her out. Can you help me figure this out or not?”
I answer by scooping Sawyer into my arms. Rex nods, mouthingthank youfrom the opposite end of the bar.
The only woman I’ve ever loved nestles her cheek against my shoulder, and dammit if that jasmine scented perfume doesn’t hit me square in the chest, taking me right the fuck down memory lane to the night I bought it for her.
She still wears it.
Mel follows me outside and opens the back passenger door to my truck. I lay Sawyer down on the back seat and cover her with a blanket. She’ll probably bitch about it in the morning because it’s covered in dog hair. But she won’t be my problem then.
“Am I taking her to your place?” I ask Mel as we regroup at the front of my truck.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea. Abby might’ve brought home the flu.”
“Where’s Sammie?”
“Inside celebrating with her new fiancé.”
The mumbled maid of honor comment makes more sense now, too. I want to feel bad for Sawyer, but how can I? I’d known since we were fifteen that I wanted to marry her. I’d always known she was the one. And yet, when I finally popped the question, she told me no and ran off to the fucking city.
“She can’t go to their place, Boone,” Mel said, her tone a plea.
“Fuck me,” I grumble, realizing exactly where this is going.
“Can you just look out for her tonight?” Mel asks as the first raindrops hit my arms. “I’ll help her figure out somewhere else to stay in the morning.”
Raindrops fall quicker, a warning that the predicted heavy overnight storm has arrived.
“Get in the truck.”
“I owe you one,” Mel says as I drive through the neighborhood toward her house.
“Did you really think buying her drinks was the best solution?”
“It was that or she was going to run. She would’ve regretted running out on her sister’s celebration. I couldn’t let her do that.” Mel pulls out her phone, her fingers moving across the screen quickly. No doubt sending a text to Sawyer’s sister, filling her in.
“Wish she regretted running out on me,” I murmur.
“To be honest Boone,” Mel looks over her shoulder into the backseat where Sawyer is lightly snoring. “I think she does.”
My heart twists at the admission I know Mel wouldn’t make if it weren’t true. But it doesn’t fucking change anything. Sawyer made her choice to leave. And she made her choice to stay gone.
I pull into the driveway of Mel’s house, getting as close as I can to the front door without driving on the lawn. The raindrops fall heavier, which only irritates me more. I was supposed to be at home, minding my own damn business. Watching the weather in case I needed to tend to the animals. Poor Thunder is probably cowering under my bed, anticipating the storm.
“Call me in the morning,” I say firmly to Mel.
“I will.”
“I mean it, Mel. Don’t try any stupid shit like playing cupid. This was over a long time ago. She needs to stay somewhere else after tonight.”
“I’ll come out and get her,” Mel promises just before she slams the passenger door shut and rushes for her front door. I wait until she’s safely inside before backing out and heading home.
Sawyer is still out cold when I carry her inside through the garage. God, I miss how fucking good she feels in my arms. Thefeel of her tit smashed up against my chest. The warmth of her curvy figure nestled against me creates an internal raging fire.
