“I don’t know if I should be offended that you need to drink to have fun around me or happy that you’re finally loosening up,” I said.
“I’m just trying to have a good time,” she said. “Don’t read anything into it.”
We’d spent the whole morning fishing with the kids before Ivy’d come to get them. That afternoon, I’d made Dakota a late lunch of tuna salad on white with potato chips as we sat in the rocking chairs on the porch mostly in silence. She hadn’t asked me a single question, and I hadn’t offered anything other than my company as she seemed to spend most of the day lost in thought.
The familiar deep rift of one of my older hits blasted from the speakers.
“Aw, Beau!” Waylon said with a proud grin. “That’s what I’m talkin’ about.”
“Tailor Made,” Ivy said, bumping into me as my own familiar voice began rumbling and twanging over the music.
“Is this you?” Dakota asked, tilting her head toward the speaker. “It is.”
“My first platinum hit,” I said with an air of bittersweet melancholy, recalling how fantastic yet disappointing it was to hear the big news that day. I’d achieved something most people only ever dreamed of, yet I had no one to share it with – which was my own damn fault. “This song was about you, Kota.”
She whipped her eyes in my direction, and I nodded, watching as she pretended not to be listening intently.
“Waylon, can I get a beer?” I called out before leaning into her. “All my songs were about you, Kota. How could they not be?”
The jingle of the bells hanging on the door ushered our attention to the right, where a petite little platinum blonde with a mouth-gaping grin ran straight in our direction.
“Dakota Andrews,” she said, beaming as she spread her arms wide. Dakota met her hug with a smile.
“Annelise,” Dakota said, looking her up and down. They’d been best friends all through high school, and something told me they’d lost touch shortly after that. “How are you?”
“I ran into Ivy earlier today. She told me you were in town,” Annelise said, her eyes sparkling. “I just had to come down here and see you.” Annelise turned toward me, leaning across Dakota and smacking me playfully on the arm. “And Beau. Gosh, it’s been too long, you guys. This feels just like old times – Dakota Andrews and Beau Mason.”
Dakota tossed back her tequila, skipping the salt and lime that time and slamming the glass on the bar. “Will you excuse me for just a moment?”
She hopped down from the stool and headed back toward the restroom, emerging moments later. As I nursed my beer, I caught a glimpse of her out of the corner of my eye, standing in the back and chit-chatting with Billy Loeffler.
“Oh, look,” Ivy said with a chuckle. “Billy’s trying to sink his meat hooks into Dakota.”
My jaw set as my gaze darted in their direction. A flash of jealousy heated my body as I pulled in a slow breath. I watched from afar as Dakota smiled at him, leaning in as he placed his hand on her arm. But when he leaned in to whisper something in her ear, that’s when I snapped.
“Don’t do it, Beau,” Ivy muttered under her breath. I had a jealous streak a mile wide, especially when it came to watching the woman I loved smile like that at fucking Billy Loeffler.
I stood up and worked my way to where they stood in the back of the bar. “Hey, guys. Billy, how’s it going?”
Billy strategically leaned in closer to Dakota, edging me out.
Wrong move, asshole.
I placed my hand on the small of Dakota’s back before gripping a fistful of her shirt and pulling her my way.
“So, anyway, you want to get dinner some night this week while you’re in town?” Billy asked her, ignoring my territorial stance. “It’d be great to catch up.”
“Oh, um.” Dakota turned to me.
“She’s busy.” I took her hand, lacing her fingers into mine, and steered her back toward the bar.
“Hey,” she said, jerking her hand out of mine when we got back to our seats. “What was that for?”
“You’ve got no business associating with Billy.” I hunched over the bar and pulled my beer closer. “He hasn’t changed a lick since we were younger.”
“Are you…are you jealous, Beau?” Dakota arched an eyebrow, stifling a grin.
“Does it even matter?”
She lifted a shoulder and flashed a full on lopsided smile courtesy of the two tequila shots coursing her veins. “It’s just cute, is all.”
“Not trying to be cute.”
“Haven’t had anyone get jealous over me in a long time,” she mused. “I’d forgotten what it feels like.”
Her hard exterior was bending like the wand of a willow right before my eyes, and tiny hints of the old Dakota were making their way to the surface.
“Anyway,” she said, shaking her head. “He cornered me as I left the ladies’ room. I had no intention of taking him up on his offer.”
“Smart girl.” I took a swig of beer and let out a hops-and-barley flavored sigh. Staring straight ahead, I felt the warmth of her gaze upon me. Heavy and crushing and not knowing what it meant, I basked in it.
All those years on the road, all I ever craved was to be connected with her again. About the time I was ready to call her, she’d disappeared on me. A few years back, I’d come home and ran into her mama, who told me she’d gotten married and moved to New York City.
It was as if I’d been running to catch a plane and had to stand by and watch it fly away without me.
I never wanted to feel the way I felt that day again so long as I lived.
“So, Dakota, what’s it like living in New York?” Annelise asked, pulling Dakota’s gaze away from me.
“Exciting.” Dakota let out a dreamy breath. “There’s just this buzz, like the whole city’s alive. Constantly. It’s exciting. It’s kind of magical.”
“I’ve always dreamed of moving someday. Getting out of this stupid town,” Annelise groaned. “Good for you for doing it.”
“What’s stopping you?” Dakota asked, swatting her shoulder. “You know, Addison lives in the city too. Between the two of us, we could help you get on your feet if you ever decide to move. Addison owns a realty company. She’s always hiring new agents. And I can pass your name along at the network. We’re always looking for researchers and production assistants.”
I watched from the sidelines as Annelise’s face lit up at the thought of moving to New York, and Dakota’s hand gestures were wildly animated as she rambled on and on about why she loved New York.
Maybe she was more rooted there than I’d realized.
I’d been to the city countless times. It was suffocating and gray. Crowded sidewalks and rude people hustling and bustling to get to where they needed to go. The rat race never appealed to me, but it drew people like Dakota in every day. The city was a symbol of hope and new beginnings, offering the promise of a new beginning to those in middle American who found their lives dreadfully inadequate. It pulled in all kinds of people who wanted an escape: people like Dakota.