Just Once (29 page)

It shouldn’t hurt this much
, I think.
I barely know the guy.
We had sex a handful of times, and he’s moved on. I knew this would happen. Hell, I even warned myself about it. This thing was bound to end. I guess I just thought it would be over when I left, not when he did. When he went to
her
.

I drop dirty dishes onto the counter with enough force that Pete—on dish duty tonight—jumps. “What did I do now?” he asks, resigned. I look at his smooth, guileless face and can’t help but smile.

“Nothing,” I say. “Sorry.”

“It’s something,” he says. “Lisa’s barely speaking to me. You and Hailey are always running off together.”

“You didn’t do anything,” I assure him. “Really.” That’s actually exactly the problem, but I’m hardly in a position to dole out relationship advice, so I return to the dining room and keep a smile plastered on my face.

“Coming to O’Malley’s, Kate?” Lisa asks when dinner service finally ends.

I shake my head. I may never return. “No,” I say. “I’m going to bed early.”

She pouts. “Hailey won’t go either. Nobody’s going.”

Pete pipes up. “I’ll go.”

Lisa spares him a glance. “Um, never mind.”

Pete, Matt, and I watch her leave. “Tell me she’s not mad,” Pete insists.

“Dude, she’s mad,” Matt says.

I try not to smile.

“What did I do?”

Matt slings an arm around his shoulder and leads him out of the kitchen. “Women,” he begins, “are complicated, beautiful creatures…”

“What are you still doing here?” asks a voice behind me.

I turn to see Mark tying on an apron.

“Just finishing up,” I reply. “What brings you back?”

He hefts a container of flour onto the counter. “Donuts.”

“Mmm. Donuts.”

“I could use an assistant.”

“Like a sous chef?”

“More like an assistant. You in?”

I glance out the window. I can see Connor, Brandon, and Chase piling into a pickup, heading home for the night. That means Shane will be alone, and if I don’t take up Mark on his offer, so will I.

“I’m in.”

The next morning I’m on first shift again, only this time when I enter the dining room with a pot of coffee, I see Shane sitting with the other ranch hands, his back to me.

Hailey and I debated my best course of action and settled on honoring the original agreement Shane and I made: casual, no-strings attached. If he knows how hurt I am, things will be weird and awkward, so I’ll act like everything’s fine. Like we’ve both moved on. Easy.

I pour coffee for the wranglers and take orders, returning with a fresh pot for the ranch hands.

“Morning,” I say brightly.

“Hey, Kate,” Brandon answers.

I hear Chase and Connor mumble tired greetings, but nothing from Shane. I’m tempted to look at him, but a sudden ache in my chest suggests that’s not a wise idea.

I pull out the order pad. “What’s everyone having?”

Brandon, Chase, and Connor order copious amounts of food—and donuts—and finally it’s just Shane left. I turn toward him, but can’t seem to lift my gaze from the order pad, pen poised. I don’t want to look at him. I know he’ll see something more than I want him to see. But he’s not speaking and things are getting weird, so finally I raise my eyes to meet his.

His dark eyes burn. His face is impassive, but the eyes say it all. Everything I want to hear but can’t possibly bear to. I look away. “Any time now,” I say, prompting a laugh from the ranch hands.

“Just coffee,” he answers.

I exhale and hurry back to the kitchen, pouring a glass of water and drinking it quickly.
It will get better
, I remind myself.
You’ll just ask Hailey to take first shift. Or Lisa. Or anyone else.
There’s no way I’m going to be able to handle the rest of the summer in close proximity to Shane if I don’t get over this.

“Order up,” Mark calls, and I pick up the hot plates. “I’ve got your order here,” he adds, gesturing to a plate stacked high with steaming donuts.

“Are those the ones your sous chef made?” I ask, straight-faced. “I heard she’s really talented.”

He shrugs. “She’s all right.”

I’m laughing as I back through the door and distribute the plates to the wranglers. I can see Shane watching me, but I deliberately keep my eyes averted, a smile on my face. The guests will be gone after lunch, then the kitchen/cabin girls (Matt and Pete aren’t entirely okay with the name, but have been out-voted) and I are heading into town for the rest of the day, giving me some much-needed distance.

A short time later the dining room is packed with hungry guests, and Mark is cooking like a fiend. “Kate,” he calls when I return with plates. “Can you take out the trash? Sorry to ask, but I’m swamped.”

“Of course,” I say, setting down the dishes. “No problem.”

I drag the metal can to the back door and tie off the bag before tipping it sideways onto the deck and hopping down to the ground to pull it out. The bag is so large and heavy that this is the only way any of us have ever managed to budge it.

I don’t hear Shane approach, but I certainly feel it as his chest presses against my back and his arm reaches over mine to take the bag. “Let me help,” he says. I feel his breath on my neck, and goose bumps spring up along my spine.

I don’t move as he pulls the bag free and sets it on the ground. Then he doesn’t move either, standing so close behind me that I can feel the warmth of his body on my back.

“Move,” I say softly.

“I wanted to talk—”

I push back with my ass so he’s forced to move, then climb up the steps to the kitchen. “There’s nothing to talk about.”

“Kate.”

I can’t look at him, so I stare at his hand, clenched around the neck of the bag.

“Thanks for your help,” I say.

“It’s so nice to get away,” Hailey remarks as we pull into town later that afternoon.

“You can say that again,” Pete agrees.

Matt shrugs. “I don’t know. I like it there.”

We all groan.

“You’re so disgustingly positive,” Hailey accuses.

To my tremendous surprise, Matt leans over and kisses her square on the mouth. “You like it,” he answers, then climbs out.

Hailey’s eyes meet mine in the rearview mirror. I raise my eyebrows in question, but she merely blushes and shrugs before exiting the van. I guess she’s made her choice.

“What’s first?” I ask when we’re all on the sidewalk.

“Shopping,” Lisa says instantly.

I smile. I know exactly how she feels. Though I grew up in a wealthy family, working at the ranch was the first time I ever earned my own money, and I couldn’t wait to spend it. I felt incredibly rich and powerful, though when I got home at the end of that first summer, I had fifty-five dollars in my bank account and nothing to show for it.

“Lead the way,” I say.

Three hours later everybody’s hot and tired. We’re each carrying bags. Pete hasn’t bought anything, but he’s laden with Lisa’s purchases. Apparently Hailey clued Matt in on Pete’s girl troubles, and Matt has quietly been giving him advice on how to get back into Lisa’s good graces—namely, work for it.

We drop the bags back at the van and debate where to go for dinner. After a brief discussion—helped along by our rumbling stomachs—we settle on a nearby Mexican restaurant and order far more than five people could possibly eat.

“So this is your fourth summer here, Kate?” Matt asks, once a mountain of guacamole has helped take the edge off our hunger.

“That’s right,” I say through a mouthful. “Hard to believe.”

“First for everybody else?”

The group nods their agreement.

“Why?” I ask. “You thinking of coming back?”

He shrugs. “I don’t know. It’s fun—and different—but I don’t know if I’d come back. How about you guys?”

Lisa says she’s seriously considering it. Upon hearing her answer Pete quickly says the same thing, but Hailey hesitates.

“Hard to say,” she says. “Nothing’s as simple as it seems.”

An older woman comes by with a basket of roses, and Matt buys one for Hailey. After a stern look from his older, wiser friend (Matt, not me), Pete buys one for Lisa, who beams. “Thank you,” she says, hugging him.

Pete looks relieved, and I glance away in time to see Matt and Hailey exchange a look that’s far more meaningful than I would have expected. Suddenly there’s nowhere else for me to turn, so I leave for the restroom, eager to get away from the lovefest. It’s hardly my first time being the lone single in a group of couples, but all the other times were on trips abroad when everyone was a stranger to me and there was no one I wished would buy me flowers.

There’s no one now
, I remind myself.
Have some pride.
He fucked Cassidy Reyes. There’s no coming back from that.

After dinner we practically roll back to the van. I’m stuffed and a little nauseous. “Want to walk this off?” Matt suggests. “Just look around?”

Everyone agrees we’re not ready for the winding, bumpy drive back to the ranch just yet, and we stroll the pretty streets of downtown Dawson. Most of the shops sell country-western gear—some for tourists, some for real cowboys—and we laugh when we find a mannequin clad in the same outfit Stanley wore to the dance.

“Hey, I want to stop in here,” Matt says when we pass a bookstore. “Let’s check out Kate’s book.”

Hailey looks at me. “You have a book?”

I hesitate. “I—Yeah, I do,” I answer. “It’s nothing.”

“It’s great,” Matt says, holding the door as we all enter. When I pass by he whispers, “Sorry, was I not supposed to say anything?”

I shake my head. “No, it wasn’t a secret.” There’s just no smooth way to work “So, I wrote a book!” into conversation.

Matt leads the way to the travel section, scans the Bs and—to my surprise and everyone else’s excitement—extracts the lone copy of
The Sunshine Schools
by Katharine Burke. Hailey and Lisa
ooh
and
ahh
over my name and picture on the cover of “a real book,” as Lisa describes it, and I blush, a little bit embarrassed, a little bit proud. Despite my vows to be older and wiser this summer, my poor decisions have given me little else to be proud of.

“I’m buying it,” Hailey announces. “And then I’m going to read it. Just think—a real, live writer in our midst, and we didn’t even know it.”

“You knew it,” I point out.

“Well, I knew about the articles, not the book. This is different. This has your picture on it.”

“You look so pretty, Kate,” Lisa gushes. “So glamorous.” A pause. “I mean, not that you aren’t pretty now. You’re just…different.”

Everyone laughs at her discomfort. “Got it,” I say, patting her on the shoulder. “Compliment sort of taken.”

I follow Hailey to the checkout while everyone else continues to browse.

“Why didn’t you tell me you had a book?” she asks, scanning the accolades on the back. “A number one bestselling book?”