Lost Rider (Coming Home #1)

The same piece I’ve felt was missing since the day I hightailed it out of here. I assumed that it was something I would find out on the road. I think deep down I always knew that missing piece was hiding in the one place I was so fucking determined never to go back to.

So no, I didn’t just want to clear the air between us, but I needed it with a fierceness that I still don’t completely understand.

I’m finally able to calm my racing thoughts and focus back on her. She’s standing there, her arms loose at her sides, shock holding her features hostage. I probably look like I’m as insane as old man Croyers, and that’s saying a lot, since he talks to trees and drags around his rocking chair on a leash.

“We need to talk, darlin’. It’s time.” She shakes her head, but doesn’t retreat when I move toward her. “I’ve got a lot I need to say, and if you don’t want to talk, fine . . . but it needs to be said, Leigh.”

“You aren’t leavin’, are you?”

I shake my head.

She takes a deep breath before giving me a small shake of her head. Resignation clear on her face. “Do you want some coffee?”

“Yeah, darlin’, make it strong.”

Silently, she turns and walks through the kitchen door and into the main room of her bakery. I follow. She lifts a finger and points to the table in the back corner before walking to the front windows. She takes a second to look into the streets and at the townsfolk that are milling around before she pulls down the shades. I’m sure that she has them there to block the sun during the day, but they effectively block the view into the bakery from anyone that is out on Main Street tonight. I could have told her it was pointless. Gossip started burning like wildfire the second I parked my truck next to her Jeep and walked inside. This town, it misses nothing, and they’ve been waiting to see what would happen next after that kiss.

I watch her as she moves back behind the counter and preps the coffeemaker. It takes effort, but I pull my eyes from her ass and look around the room.

I hate that I wasn’t here to see her become the woman that she is today. It’s clear in every inch of space in here that she built her bakery with pride and love. I knew from Clay that she was doing well, but judging by this place that’s a big understatement.

“Here. Black.” She thumps the full mug down; hard enough to make a loud bang against the table, but with enough care that not one drop escapes the top. She’s still pissed and isn’t afraid to let me know it.

I lift the purple mug and place it to my mouth, breathing in the strong brew before taking a sip. The burn down my throat is welcome as I get my thoughts together. She sits down on the opposite side and places her hands around a mug of her own.

I take another sip before placing mine down and clearing my throat.

“I’m sorry.”

She jerks slightly and narrows her eyes.

“There’s a lot of shit I’ve done in my life that I regret, Leigh, but I never let myself dwell on it because, at the time, I knew it was necessary in order to get what I want. To get where I wanted to go. To get out.” I look down at my mug, composing my thoughts before giving her the rest. Knowing that the rest is one of the most important things I could say tonight. “I noticed you. You were wrong—God, so wrong. I’ve always seen you, Leighton. Standing there, that night, and letting you think that I didn’t see you as the beautiful girl you were back then was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. It fuckin’ killed me, but I knew it had to be done because if I hadn’t made sure you hated me in that moment, I wouldn’t have left, and darlin’, I had to leave. I wouldn’t have survived under his iron fist. So I made sure that I crushed the one person I knew deep down in my bones had the power to keep me grounded in Pine Oak until the day I took my last breath. And darlin’, that last breath would have come a lot quicker if I wouldn’t have left when I did.”

There’s a red-hot flash of anger before she lets a frustrated bark of disbelief out. She opens her mouth, only to snap it shut again. She’s always been so expressive that it’s clear to see a war is raging between fury and hurt right now. I watch her struggle, her eyes showing me what her mouth can’t vocalize—which side of her war won—as they wet with emotion. She blinks back her tears, not allowing a single one free, as she bites down hard on her lip. I hate knowing that I’m hurting her right now, but I need her to hear this. My chest already feeling lighter from just the little I’ve said. I might be a fucking mess in my head right now, but feeling the stranglehold on my chest lighten after a decade of guilt and regret is well overdue.

“I was so focused on gettin’ out of here that I never imagined that there could have been another way. A way to chase my dreams and not hurt you, but back then all I could see was a young girl with a family that loved her and a future that you had to realize on your own. I saw a sixteen-year-old girl unaware of the power she held and fuck if it didn’t terrify me. I took the coward’s way out and hurt you before I would allow myself to be vulnerable enough for you to hurt me. I struck knowing that I would be able to leave with no ties other than Clay and Quinn and even they understood why I was runnin’, so those ties weren’t tied tight. They lived that hell with me. So while I might have gotten what I was chasing, I accomplished it all alone because I pushed everyone away.”

“Why the hell are you telling me this? What does it change, Maverick? Not one damn thing!” she yells, a burst of resentment that lasts only a second before my words sink deep. Her hand on her chest as she still struggles to hold her emotions in check, her anger starting to replace the sadness.

“Because in order to explain the shit swirlin’ inside of me, I have to start at the beginnin’, and darlin’, that’s you.”

“I don’t understand. I thought we were going to talk about . . . well, that night?”

“We will,” I vow.

“Maybe we should just skip the past and focus on that then. I’m not sure what you’re hoping to accomplish by letting this all out now, but you made your choice when you left, Mav, and I’m not sure if it’s best to go back down that road again. No, actually, I know it isn’t.”

I laugh, the sound just as foreign to me as it was earlier in the kitchen. “I need to get it all out, Leighton, and honey, you need to hear it. After that, where we go from here is up to you.”

“Where we go?”

“That’s what I said,” I respond, picking up the mug and taking another deep swallow.

“I think the only place we’re goin’ is home after this talk.”

“Then I guess it will be up to you if we are goin’ to end up in the same house or go separate ways, but you’ll make that call with all the information.”

Leighton wrinkles her nose like she’s smelled something unpleasant. “I don’t like this.”

I smile, a small one, but genuine all the same. “Yeah, darlin’, and neither do I, but like I said, it’s time.”

She drops her hand from her chest, takes a calming breath, and picks up her mug to take her first sip since sitting down.