Heartless (Chestnut Springs, #2)(52)

“No.” I sigh.

He grunts and then turns, striding out of the bedroom. Within moments he returns with liquids and meds.

He cracks open the can of ginger ale and holds it out to me. “Small sips.”

With shaky hands, I take it from him, eyeing the way his arms go back to crossing over his chest. “You just gonna stand there and glare at me? I feel like I’m in trouble.”

He blows out a loud sigh and runs a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry. You two had me worried.”

I take one small sip, not loving the taste of it mixing with the leftover mint flavor from my toothpaste. “You’re a big softy, Cade Eaton. Sit down.”

“Here?” His brows knit.

“It is your bed.” I pat the spot beside me. “Just keep me company for a few minutes, and then I’ll go to sleep. I bet I’ll be fine tomorrow.”

“Maybe,” he grunts, skeptically assessing me while taking a hesitant seat.

I let my head rest against the bed frame as the fizzy liquid settles in my stomach. “Tell me how Luke was tonight.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah. Of course. Did he seem better? I was so worried about him.”

Cade stares at me, like he can’t quite believe what I’m telling him. “He was worried about you. He wanted to make sure that I gave you this bed. He peeked in and saw you sleeping sitting up—which he didn’t tell me until I was already lying down to put him to sleep.”

I laugh a little at that because I can totally imagine him sneaking a peek. “My little troublemaker,” I murmur, taking another sip.

Cade hums at that, staring at me even harder. “You sure you’ve never worked with kids before?”

“Positive.”

“Huh.” He folds his hands awkwardly over his kneecaps, as if he doesn’t quite know what to do with them. Like he’s uncomfortable sitting here talking to me in the silent room. “You’re good at it. Maybe you should become a teacher or something.”

A whoosh of air rushes from my nose. “Yeah. Maybe. That sounds fun, actually. I don’t know though. It just all feels so daunting.”

“What does?”

“Jobs. Careers. Life. Being a grown-up?”

“Do you like bartending?”

I roll my lips together and regard my boss carefully. “Not especially. It was fun when I was younger. It felt like getting paid to be social. But going back to it will be hard. I like it out here.”

His throat bobs and he stares down at his hands, not responding to what I just said.

“Do you like ranching?” I ask, trying to coax him out of whatever caused his silence.

His lips slowly tip up. “I love it. I love being outside. I love the long days. I love how tired I am when I crawl into bed at night. I act like the yahoos in the bunkhouse piss me off, but I even love them in my own way.”

“Unless they check me out.” I point at him, taking another sip.

He chuckles. “Yeah, Red. Unless they check you out.”

“That must be a good feeling. To be so sure that you’re doing the right thing in your life.”

Cade nods, fingers tapping on his knees, corded forearms flexing as he does. “Do you think you’ll keep working at the bar? Or try something new?”

I settle back a little, enjoying Cade’s comfortable bed and the perfectly supportive pillows. Has any bed ever felt better? “I don’t know. New sounds scary. It sounds like failure.” I scoff. “I mean, look at my parents. Insanely talented meets insanely educated. And my brother? Just had to have all that plus be insanely driven. And I’m just over here being insanely flighty.”

His teeth grind. “You’re a lot of things, Red. But flighty is not one of them.”

“Well, I’m too intimidated to try something new and too scared of failure to commit to anything more than a string of short-term relationships and the same job I’ve had since I turned eighteen. Everyone keeps telling me I can be anything I want to be and do anything I want to do. And I’m just . . . paralyzed by it all.” I snort out a sad laugh. “I sound flighty to me.”

“Knock that off,” he grits out, staring at me with fire in his eyes.

“What?” I quirk a brow at him, noting that after my bathroom floor nap, I feel well enough to give him back a bit of attitude.

“Putting yourself down like that. Avoiding compliments. You’re young. Your life is far from over, and we all get to make mistakes and come back from them. Look at me. I’ve made my fair share of them, and all I can do is try to be better—to do better.”

“You had a lot of relationships since Luke’s mom left?”

He huffs out a breath. “No, Red. I said try to be better. I haven’t totally figured out how to come back from that one.”

“You know what you need? Some no-strings-attached sex with the nanny.” My tone is teasing, but I think we both know I’m not joking. Saying something for shock value isn’t unusual for me, but this was really my flippant way of making the offer.

His knuckles turn white on his knees as he stares at his hands. He gives his head a shake as he reaches for the bottle of pills on the nightstand. I watch raptly as his fingers twist the top off and he empties one onto his palm before putting the bottle back.