Page 54 of The Bodyguard
The wordshopwas on the tip of my tongue. It’s exactly how the Cowboy Princess would have answered that question. Part of giving up the show, however, was letting go of the character. The stereotype that was me.
“I…well, I…I really love to bake.” I did. I loved the precision of it. I loved the creativity of it. I loved the smell of it. I loved making other people happy with it. Seeing their faces light up when they bit into something I’d made was always special.
Like when Garrett ate one of my chocolate chip cookies.
“Perfect,” Garrett said smiling at me. “Dusty Creek doesn’t have a bakery.”
I laughed, though at this pace it came out more like a pant. “Right. I’m going to open a bakery here.”
His smile fell a little then. “Yeah, I suppose you don’t want to live in Dusty Creek permanently. Probably used to the big cities.”
“I don’t mind Dusty Creek,” I said, getting a little defensive. “I was raised here. Went to school here. I still have friends here.”
“Then why not open a bakery here?”
“Because…” I stopped myself. “I mean, I guess there isn’t a reason, but I don’t know anything about running a business. Trust me when I tell you I don’t think I inherited that gene from Hank.”
“We’re not talking about King Industries. You make stuff and you sell stuff. I’m pretty sure that’s it.”
I shook my head, not able to conceive that something as big as having a business could be that simple.
“I’ll consider it,” I said, more to appease him than for any other reason. Because I couldn’t own a business. That was crazy. To distract myself from those thoughts I turned the questions to him. “What about you? Are you planning to stay in Dusty Creek forever?”
He puffed out some air. “Forever seems like a long time, but I have no plans to leave. I like the ranch. I like my job.”
“Yes, but that ranch is more of a fam…” I stopped myself immediately but it wasn’t fast enough.
He scowled, and if I wasn’t mistaken he picked up the pace on our jog.
“Yeah, I know. But a family isn’t going to happen for me. Ever.”
It made me sad. Not because I wasn’t going to be the person who had Garrett’s babies. I had given up that dream a long time ago. It hurt that after all this time he was still brokenhearted.
“You must have really loved her,” I said, trying to keep up with him but feeling myself getting winded.
That was when he stopped. Dead in his tracks.
I stopped, too, because I could feel a sense of anger in him and I didn’t know if it was directed toward me or her. I knew I didn’t like it.
“That’s the fuck of it all, Brin. I don’t know if I did or not. I thought I did, but how could I have loved someone who obviously didn’t love me back? I don’t feel anything for her anymore. I don’t miss her. I don’t even hate her. And if I loved her, if I really loved her…wouldn’t I still at least think about her?”
I swallowed the words in my throat. Yes, I thought. If you really loved someone you would still think about him. There had never been a time I didn’t think about Garrett. The first time I had sex he was there in my mind. The few other times after that, too. When things hurt me or made me sad, I thought of him. When things made me laugh and made me squeal with excitement, I thought of him.
I always thought of Garrett.
“If you didn’t love her, then why can’t you move on?”
He had his hands on his hips. He was taking longer breaths. He looked at me and suddenly there was this hunger in him. I imagined it was how I had looked at the glass of Coke he’d given me earlier. Sure, I wanted it, but I knew I couldn’t have it because it wasn’t good for me.
“We should go back,” he said.
I nodded and followed him as he started running back toward his home.
