Beauty and the Cowboy (11 page)

She must’ve looked horrified, because Jane asked, “What’s wrong?” Then she followed Charlotte’s gaze. “Oh, no. If you want to go, I can cover this myself.”

Charlotte drew in a deep breath. “No. Thanks. I’m fine.”

Leave before she had the chance to check out redheaded Rebecca, who was at his side?

Miss getting an up-close look at the woman who’d stolen Tom’s heart?

No way.

From a distance, Rebecca looked pretty in a natural, no-makeup sort of way. Charlotte had to give her that, but this Rebecca wasn’t a beauty queen. Oh, no, she wasn’t. She was average height, average weight, average build. In fact, Rebecca looked perfectly average by all accounts and standards.

Except when Tom looked at her. Then she seemed to shine.

When she emitted that glow, he looked at her like she was the most beautiful woman in the world or some rare, exotic gem he’d been fortunate enough to discover. And the feeling was obviously mutual. She couldn’t seem to take her eyes off him, either.

Tom was doing his normal Tom thing—eating up the fact that he was the center of attention. Everyone he passed stopped to greet him. He dutifully—no, not dutifully, proudly—he proudly introduced…his wife. Of course, Charlotte couldn’t hear what they were saying, but with every hello or welcome home Tom received, he immediately turned and presented her, and the person would smile and appear to give the appropriate warm greeting.

There was no gnashing of teeth or booing and hissing. No dirty, rotten cheater insults flung at Tom for not even having the decency to let Charlotte down easily before he went off and married someone else. On the contrary, he was receiving the hometown golden boy welcome that his hard-won stature as a PBR champion commanded.

As much as Charlotte hated to admit it, Rebecca wasn’t the what-should’ve-never-happened-in-Vegas man-stealing ho-bag she’d imagined. No, she was fresh-faced and angelic, a girl-next-door type. Tom clearly adored her.

They fit. They looked natural together.

That’s how I felt with Jesse.

The thought crept up on her and knocked her heart sideways in her chest. It had been a week now, and Jesse continued to skillfully avoid her.

Charlotte crossed her arms over her chest. Her emotional armor.

She certainly had become a pro at driving men away, hadn’t she? But it wasn’t the time to think about Jesse and how she’d quite possibly walked away from the best thing that had ever happened to her.

She blinked away the thought. Because she had to put on her best face right now. No insecurities were allowed to show through, because she and Tom had just locked eyes, and he was walking her way with his arm around Rebecca.

Okay, here we go.

Wasn’t it best this way? Like ripping off a bandage. Get it over with as fast as possible. It might hurt a little bit, but it would be a lot less painful compared to prolonging the inevitable. And this face-to-face with Tom and his beloved was inevitable.

“There she is,” he said, as he walked up to her with his handsome face and wide, white-toothed smile. His arms were outstretched, and he hugged her. To the uninformed, they might look like old pals at a high school reunion.

“Tom, nice to see you.”

He stepped back and returned his arm to his wife’s shoulder.

Because we’d never want to make her feel uneasy around the ex, would we? Such a gentleman, Tom.

“I want you to meet my wife, Rebecca. Becs, honey, this is Charlotte.”

Rebecca’s smile looked sincere. Suddenly, Charlotte wondered what version of the Tom and Charlotte Story he’d told her. Because surely a woman who’d waltzed in and married another woman’s boyfriend of six years while they were still together couldn’t look the jilted woman in the eyes with pure innocence the way Becs, honey was looking at her.

“It’s so nice to finally meet you,” she said. “Tom has told me so many nice things about you.”

Really? Such as how he took me ring shopping five days before he tied the knot with you? By the way, which ring did he get you? I hope it wasn’t the marquise, because the sucker pinches like a son of a B.

Charlotte stole a glance at Rebecca’s hand, but the one with the ring on it was hidden behind Tom.

She must’ve been pretty transparent, because Jane, sweet Jane, who always seemed to anticipate and preempt disaster, piped up and introduced herself to Rebecca.

“Charlotte needs to go over today’s program with Tom. The stage blocking and which awards to present when. All that boring stuff that doesn’t mean anything until the kids are on stage being recognized. It’s so warm today, how about if we go grab a quick cold drink? By the time we finish, Tom should be done, too.”

Jane herded Rebecca away before she could protest. Then again, Rebecca seemed so amiable, she probably wouldn’t have. Suddenly, Charlotte was standing face-to-face with Tom, who had been stripped of all reason for pretense.

Now, it was just him and Charlotte and the pregnant silence that hung between them like a question mark. But as they stood there, the strangest thing happened. She didn’t want to smack the grin off his handsome face, as she had feared she might want to do once this moment arrived. She didn’t want to scream and yell and rant and cry. She didn’t even want to ask him, Why?

She knew why. She saw it written all over his face when he looked at his wife. Tom had picked the right girl. Rebecca fit. She wasn’t just the expected pretty girl. She was happy and supportive and clearly adored him.

Charlotte and Tom were like two puzzle pieces that almost fit, that people expected to fit, but ultimately they hadn’t been a match.

“I’m so sorry, Charlotte,” he finally said. “I never meant to hurt you. I want you to know—I need for you to know that I was never unfaithful to you before I met Rebecca. But I fell in love, and I hope that someday you’ll be able to find it in your heart to forgive me. Or at least not hate me.”

As she stood there, she remembered a quote, something about the opposite of love not being hate but indifference. While she couldn’t go so far as to say she didn’t care, she certainly didn’t hate Tom for falling in love.

Because, suddenly, everything snapped into sharp focus.

She’d seen another man look at a woman the way Tom looked at Rebecca. She had experienced it personally. It was the way Jesse had looked at her.

She’d been too blind to see it before.

Or maybe she had simply needed to look Tom in the eyes to make sure that it really was over.

It was, and she hoped she hadn’t realized it too late.

“I don’t hate you, Tom. Our breakup had been brewing for a long time. Setting each other free was probably the best thing we could’ve done for each other. I want you to know that I sincerely wish you and Rebecca nothing but the best.”

Before she could stop him, Tom pulled her into another hug. While it wasn’t what she wanted, it was exactly what she needed, because it proved that she didn’t love him, not like she loved Jesse.

“It was great to see you,” she said, pulling away and freeing herself from him…at last. “Jane will take you through the paces of the awards ceremony. I need to go. I have to take care of something important.”

She walked away without looking back.

Where was Jesse? She could try his office, but it was all the way across the fairgrounds. He might or might not be there, and with the fair going at full tilt, it would take awhile to fight her way through the crowd.

She pulled her cell out of her pocket and texted him.

You’re right. I have been running. I’m sorry. Need to see you ASAP. Please.

With the commotion and noise of the fair, it might be awhile before he heard the text tone. Or she might be too late. After she sent Jane a quick SOS text saying she’d changed her mind and wanted to take her up on the offer to handle the awards, she set out looking for Jesse.

It was warm, but not excessively hot. The sky was a particularly brilliant shade of cloudless blue, a perfect day for the fair. As Charlotte wandered through the crowd, she found herself wishing she could have a do-over for last week. Why couldn’t today have been her day on the Ferris wheel with Jesse? Why couldn’t they just erase last week and start over knowing what she knew now?

Please don’t let it be too late.

Patience wasn’t one of Jesse’s virtues. She feared she might’ve pushed him past his limit. A man who’d lost both of his parents knew how short life was. What had he said? You need to decide whether or not you want to have a real-life relationship. Because if not, then I don’t think there’s anything here for us. She’d hurt him by not being able to return his expression of love.

She needed to find him now.

All around her, people were laughing and having fun. Couples strolled arm in arm. A knot of teenage girls stood in line for the Tilt-A-Whirl, whispering and giggling in the direction of a group of teenage boys in line a few feet behind them.

Charlotte wondered how Mattie and Cody were doing. The girl had been on top of the world last weekend after the pageant. She hoped things were going well with Cody. Funny, in the pageant, Mattie had won exactly what she’d needed to win: the validation that the person she was presenting was good enough.

As Charlotte glanced at the people around her. There were so many familiar faces, while others were strangers who’d come from who knows where to enjoy the fair. At that moment, she knew the true meaning of feeling alone in a crowd. After all this time, after graduating from college and having Jane hire her away from the bank, she still didn’t feel good enough.

Good enough for whom? Jesse? He was probably the only person besides her father and sister who knew her well. And he’d said he was in love with her.

She was finally willing to let herself believe him.

Love like this was a rare and precious thing. Especially when someone knew the real you—the person behind the facade—and loved you in spite of yourself.

She certainly hadn’t had anything like it with Tom. Now she wanted to make things right with the one man in this world who made the world make sense to her.

Jesse.

She’d wasted too many years of her life pretending to live in the emptiness of a loveless relationship. Tom had been good to her, but they’d never had what he had with Rebecca.

What she could have with Jesse: the electricity, the fireworks, the can’t-keep-your-hands-off-each-other-gotta-have-you-now urgency.

That was all great. No, it was better than great—it was the best sex she’d ever had. But what made it work was that together they were real. They didn’t take a hiatus when the going got tough and come back together after the dust had settled.

And now it was on her to find him and tell him she was sorry she’d bolted when the going got real. Most importantly, she had to tell him she had no intention of letting him go.

As if picking up her distress signal, Jesse’s text came through.

Where are you?

By the carousel, she answered.

Meet me at the Ferris wheel.

She did a slow turn in the crowd until she spotted the circular giant.

On my way.

She arrived a couple of minutes later. Jesse was talking to a guy in overalls, who was holding some tools. He looked like he might’ve been working on the ride. Or maybe he was getting ready to work on it? Another attendant was ushering people off and not letting anyone back on.

Uh-oh. It looked like they had a problem. It probably wasn’t the best time to do this. There were only three days left of the fair. Maybe it was best to wait until Jesse wasn’t up to his eyebrows in operations issues.

Even so, when he saw her, he motioned for her to come over.

“Hi,” she said tentatively. “It looks like you’re busy. I can come back later, or—”

“No. Now is fine.” He had such a poker face, and his tone was brusque. She couldn’t read him. But, of course, how did she expect him to act in the middle of his workday, in the middle of an emergency?

This was a bad idea.

She couldn’t do this here…in front of the man with the tools, who was smiling at her in a peculiar way. She didn’t want to be rude, so she mustered a smile back at him.

“Can we go somewhere more private?” she asked. “Or, really, Jesse, this can wait.”

Jesse took her elbow and walked her toward the gate to the Ferris wheel that the attendant had been guarding. He opened the gate and ushered her through.

“Get in.” Jesse hooked his thumb toward a yellow gondola. The attendant rushed ahead of them and held open the ride’s security bar.

Charlotte looked askance at him.

“Get in, Charlie. This is about as private as we’re going to get.”

Ohh. Oh, no. That didn’t bode well.

She thought about the opposite-of love-quote that had come to mind when she’d seen Tom.

Indifference.

Her heart sank.

Jesse couldn’t have seemed any more indifferent if he were sharing the ride with a stranger. Then again, they weren’t going to ride if the wheel was broken. They were going to sit here, slightly away from the crowd. The sideshow with everyone looking on.

Was the crowd going to get mad since the attendant had made them wait but had ushered the two of them on ahead of the line?

Don’t worry, people, you wouldn’t want to be in my seat right now.

At least the attendant had the good grace to walk back to his post after he’d locked them into the gondola.

So this was how it was going to go down. It would end in the middle of a crowded fair on a broken-down ride. If that wasn’t symbolic, she didn’t know what was.

But then—whoa—the gondola rocked as the ride lurched to a start, carrying them up, up, up over the big Marietta Fair.

Charlotte braced her hands against the safety bar. “I thought the ride was broken.”

Jesse gave a quick one-shoulder roll. “Broken things can be fixed.”

Oh. Oh! Yes, they could.

“I’d like to think so. God, I hope so.”

She didn’t want to read anything into the way he was looking at her now. But when she searched his gaze, he held hers. His gruff facade had relaxed a little.

It was now or never.

“I shouldn’t have walked away from you the other night.”