Holly Jolly Cowboy (The Wyoming Cowboy #7)(69)

Layla oohed. “I bet it wasn’t even his birthday!”

Becca squealed again, acting more like a schoolgirl than a married woman with a child.

Holly frowned at both of them. “Well, if it wasn’t his birthday, it was just another thing he lied about.”

“I bet he was trying to get on your good side,” Becca gushed. “He felt guilty and he liked you and so he decided to romance you instead.”

“No,” Holly protested. Even as she did, though, it felt a little weak to her. They had become friends after the birthday cake, hadn’t they? If not fast friends, they’d certainly called a truce at that point and began to talk to each other in a civil manner. And she’d nursed him while he was sick, because she’d felt bad for him being so helpless and ill. “This doesn’t change anything!”

“Doesn’t it?” Layla gave her a dreamy look. “I mean, he’s cute. And he was clearly head over heels for you at the party. Watched you like a hawk and scared off anyone that looked as if they wanted to talk to you.”

“He did?”

Layla nodded. “Oh yeah. Jack was laughing about it because he said Adam looked utterly flummoxed every time a guy looked in your direction.”

She didn’t remember that. Then again, she’d been drunk that night so she didn’t remember a lot. Just Adam hovering over her with an amused smile on his face as she acted like a fool. Adam gently steering her away from people. Adam taking her out on the dance floor when she wanted to dance, even though he seemed rather miserable about it.

She didn’t know what to think. It didn’t make up for the fact that he’d let her make an idiot of herself in front of the whole town. Not by a long shot. He could have talked to her, damn it. He could have said something. Instead, he’d let her suffer for weeks, and she wasn’t ready to forgive that.

No matter how much Becca and Layla gushed about him.

“It doesn’t change the fact that he sabotaged me,” Holly said. “Or the fact that he let me bring my cake into town and make a fool out of myself in front of everyone. If he really liked me, he could have stopped me at any time. The fact that he didn’t just makes me feel stupid.” And even more stupid than that, she’d been happily sleeping with him, all the while knowing he wanted no strings attached. She’d been fine to take things a day at a time, to see where it led, and if it led nowhere, she knew to expect it.

That was the worst part about this—she hadn’t expected sabotage from him. And she couldn’t forgive it.



* * *



? ? ?

    It was hard to finish his day without Holly’s warm smile at the end of the night.

Adam had a long day of work, and when he finally headed toward the main house, he found the door locked and the lights off. There was a note posted on the door, directing him to a bagged lunch left on his doorstep. Hannibal whined and scratched at the door, clearly expecting to be let in for dinner and treats, and it was hard to turn him away.

It was hard for Adam to turn away, too.

He supposed he deserved that, given that he’d sabotaged her cake. He deserved to eat peanut butter and jelly until she forgave him. He knew that, and he was okay with that. But he missed talking to her. He just wanted to see if she was okay, if she’d baked anything that day—which always seemed to put her in a good mood—or if she was still down over her job. He wanted to apologize to her. He hadn’t thought the consequences through, and he hadn’t realized how much it would hurt her.

He felt like he’d lost something he hadn’t even realized he wanted.

So Adam turned around and went home, ate his sandwich, and went to bed, wondering if Holly was crying herself to sleep. God, he hoped not. He almost hoped she was over him quickly, just because he didn’t like the thought of her being in pain. It tore him up.

One day turned into the next, and the peanut butter and jelly remained for lunch only. Dinner turned into the usual repertoire of deliciously cooked food—roast and potatoes, shepherd’s pie, freshly made chicken enchiladas—but Holly never made an appearance. She left the food for him carefully packaged in a labeled container on his doorstep, and locked the door to the main house every night.

It was clear she didn’t want to talk to him. It was clear she was done.

Adam hated it.

One stupid mistake against his (then) enemy and he’d lost the best thing that had ever happened to him. He felt like he’d lost his best friend and partner. After two days of her not answering, he’d tried texting her, too, only to have his messages ignored. So he’d sent her one final message.

ADAM: When you’re ready to talk to me . . . I’m here.

He wanted to tell her that he missed her, but he felt like that would be emotional blackmail. He didn’t want Holly to get back together with him out of guilt. He wanted her to be with him because she wanted to genuinely be with him. Guilting her would only make her feel shitty, and she had enough on her plate. He was at a loss.

It didn’t help that Carson wasn’t on his side, either. He’d woken up one morning to a new text message from the older man.

CARSON: You’re a good ranch hand, but damn, you’re stupid.

ADAM: Gee . . . thanks.

CARSON: Why’d you fuck with Holly’s cake? You don’t shit where you eat, son.