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.