“I’m glad you chose door number three, brother. No one could do what you do here.”
He nods, blushing. “Guess that’s the point a little. A specialized ranch.” Macho clears his throat. “Thanks for bringing your family out here. I was happy to see you met someone after, well, after she left.” Everyone knows the story, and knows of my celibacy. Mostly because both are freak occurrences. A single father on the SEAL Teams, who also happens to be celibate doesn’t ever happen.
How do I explain that Maeve isn’t my family without sounding like a complete lunatic? “Maeve is just a friend,” I try. “We met when Turner began physical therapy for his broken leg. She’s the best physical therapist I could find. He’s really taken a liking to her.”
“Ah, so you both have taken a liking then?” Macho replies, grinning so wide all his dimples pop out to say hello. Condescending, but the damn things have an effect on me.
I shake my head, but can’t wipe the cheesy smile off my face. “She’s here, so I guess that’s something. Though Turner convinced her to come. It wasn’t my doing.” I laugh a bit, and Maeve seems to have a radar, because her head spins our way.
She rights her blonde hair that lifted with the wind, then tilts her face up to say something to Turner.
“I’m trying not to fuck it up.”
This is easier when we’re not hiding, and Turner is happy and I get to feel this peace of having her calming presence around. It also means it will be that much more catastrophic if things fall apart. Maeve won’t just be leaving me, she’ll be leaving Turner. A wave of pain filters through my body and settles like a coiled snake in my stomach.
“You want my advice?” Macho says, tilting his cowboy hat to Maeve when he sees her looking.
I scoff. “You’re living the after Teams dream. Of course I want your advice,” I say, pulse hammering as I watch Maeve take Turner off the horse, with him clinging tightly around her neck. He’s drawn to her—I see the way my son orbits around her with wide eyes and an open heart. It’s equal parts fascination as it is admiration.
“Take things that you know damn well you’re good at in life and apply it to a relationship.”
I narrow my eyes at my friend. “How exactly do you apply skydiving into enemy territory without being detected and then ambushing bad guys to a romantic relationship?”
Macho beams me another smile. “That’s tenacity, my friend. Patience. Being observant and most importantly, bravery.”
I raise my brows. “Guess I never thought about it that way.”
“Most people don’t. I doubted myself for a long time, assuming I’d be a worthless piece of shit outside of the military. It was all I knew for most of my life, you know? It was scary.”
Maeve handed the lead to an employee and is walking toward us now.
“Most people doubt themselves near constantly. They think they need to reach some invisible goal line before they’re worthy of their own dreams.” He pats me on the back. “You don’t need permission to make your dreams reality. There isn’t a formula. There aren’t steps. You use what you got, brother. If she’s the one for you, then that’s all you need.”
I stay silent as I wrap my brain around Macho’s words of wisdom. He’s chatting animatedly to Maeve and Turner, who is still wrapped around her body like a spider monkey. Could it be that easy? Am I brave enough to take the next step regardless of cost? Even if I’m petrified a relationship will fail, there’s the possibility it will succeed. I shake off the moment and grin at Turner. He holds his arms out for me over the gate and I snatch him up.
“You looked like a real cowboy out there! I can’t believe how strong you’re getting, and how good you’re getting at riding. Day two and you’re ready to storm the trenches!”
“Did you see my horse, Carmel, start trotting fast? Maeve had to run to keep up. It was so funny.” He giggles from his belly, lighting all our faces with smiles.
“I did see it. Your farmhand got her cardio in for the day, huh?”
Maeve raises one brow. “The farmhand needs a rest.”
“Macho wants to show us the dogs. Do you want to go see some puppies?” I ask.
She uses the gate to gather with us and I slip my hand around her waist and pull her to me with my free arm. She stiffens for only a second and then relaxes into my side. Maeve looks at Turner, to gauge his reaction to my action, but he’s just laughing and talking to Macho about holding baby dogs.
I lean down and whisper, “You looked good out there, too, cowgirl.” I leave out the part requesting to see her in only the boots later on, because part of her agreeing to come with us is that we keep it professional. My hand around her tight body isn’t professional, but she’s also not moving it. If anything, she is clinging to me tighter than she ever has before.
“Don’t get any ideas. Chaps aren’t my thing.”
I look down at her. “It’s like you’re reading my mind.”
“I was thinking we could talk later on tonight,” Maeve says, voice small, but eyes flickering an unreadable emotion. One I want to figure out.
I clear my throat and set Turner down. He takes off running after Macho, who is opening the door to a building that has a shadow of a German Shepherd head on the overhang. “You really are reading my mind. Talking tonight could have been my idea, too. I’ve been doing a lot of thinking.” And getting advice.
Uncertainty creeps into her
