Page 18 of The Devil in Blue Jeans
An irrational jolt of jealously stormed through him. “What’s his name?” That way if he ever met him, he’d know the type of person he was dealing with.
“Marcel.”
“And you owned a bar together in...?”
“Phoenix. We bought it right after college.”
A horse neighed off in the distance as he asked, “So, it’s a different type of place than what you have now.”
“Very different,” she said. “I always knew I wanted to get into the bar industry. I bartended all through college and could just see myself working in that line of work. But the nightclub was more of Marcel’s idea. Not that I didn’t have input and worked damn hard to get it up and running, but the dance club was his idea.”
“What you have now is more in line with what you wanted?” he asked.
She nodded. “Smaller. More intimate. A place for friends and fun. That’s what I always imagined I’d have.”
“I can understand that,” he said. “I liked that about the place too.”
“It’s a nice place,” she said, dipping another chip. “Just needed a little freshening up.”
He let the dig roll off, knowing that in her eyes that was exactly what it needed. He didn’t feel the need to remind her that small-town people dislike big change. They loved the old, rustic feel of a town they cherished. They loved the country music they grew up on. They loved the old bar. “All right, so let me know if I got this right. You left the big city, leaving a cheating fiancé behind for a small-town with a legend that anyone that moves here finds love.”
She laughed. “I didn’t know about the legend until the other day, and it’s silly anyway.”
He agreed with a nod. “I’m not a believer either.”
A snort of derision escaped her lips, as if he had just proven her assumptions about him. It was clear she had put him into the same box as her ex-fiancé. He shouldn’t have been affected by it—usually he wouldn’t have been—but this time he was.
He had eaten two chicken wings in the time she ate one, and the sound of rustling grass cleared his mind. Though he didn’t mind when she disrupted the calmness—he actually enjoyed hearing her voice—as she asked, “All right, you heard about my experience into the bar industry. Tell me, why did you sell the bar? It seemed like it was thriving with all the regulars you had, who are dead set on letting me know I’m getting it all wrong.”
He chuckled, finished his sip of his beer, and lowered his bottle to the serving plate. “I worked so hard for that bar since I was a young. I knew exactly what I wanted to do with my life, and I created it from the ground up. I saw so much potential for the bar to bring people together; to play pool or line dance, or just enjoy some great beer after a hard day. It was my passion, and I put blood, sweat and tears into the bar.”
“Then what happened?” she asked.
He sighed deeply, feeling a familiar ache rise in his chest. “My dad passed away six months ago. Everything changed then and I didn’t have a choice but to walk away from the bar to ensure the ranch’s success.”
She paused, midway lifting her chicken wing to her mouth. “Gosh, Jaxon, I’m so sorry for your loss.”
“Thank you,” he said. “But my father lived life on his own terms. He ate whatever he wanted and smoked more than any man should smoke. In the end, his heart gave out while he was here on the ranch doing exactly what he loved.”
She gave a tight-lipped smile. “There’s something beautiful in living life on your terms.”
“Yeah, there is.” And he respected his dad for it, only he’d choose healthier choices for his life.
She was quiet for a comfortable moment before she spoke again. “So, you gave up your dream for the ranch then?”
“I’m a third-generation horse breeder,” he explained with a nod. “Even with the bar, I still spent countless hours here training horses, deciding on breeding lines and continuing with my family’s legacy. Dad handled the business aspect while I focused on the training. But when he passed away, there was obviously only one option: I had to step up and take his place so our family tradition could continue.”
“But what about your own ambitions? You had to sacrifice them for this.”
He didn’t hesitate. The answer had always been crystal clear to him. “My dad took care of me after my mom passed away when I was just a kid. He made sure I had everything I’d ever need or want growing up. To pay him respect and keep the family name alive, it wasn’t even a question that I should move into the ranch and carry on in his place. When I have kids of my own someday, I hope they can understand why this ranch is so important and why it must be kept going.”
“Kids?” she asked incredulously, and then her face settled back into a blank stare. “That’s unexpected for a man who is known for breaking hearts in this town.”
He merely shrugged in response, not commenting on being a heartbreaker since he didn’t feel the need to defend himself. He hadn’t broken any hearts he’d known of. “I haven’t ruled out the possibility of having a family one day, no matter what anyone around here might think of me.
“And you? Kids in your future?”
Her breath hitched and she glanced down. “Once I thought so, but not—” her voice grew thick with emotion “—not anymore.”
