Hopeless (Chestnut Springs, #5)(95)

I thought the bar was mine. I thought that was the one place people appreciated me and my hard work. I thought I earned that place in the world.

The back door crashes open, and I know this man would tear the world apart to find me. To save me.

But I’m so tired of needing saving.

“Bailey!” His palm lands flat on the door of my trailer. I can hear it slap.

The childish part of me wants to keep hiding from him and not respond.

But the part of me that’s in love with him is being shredded, strip by strip, as I listen to him frantically search for me.

“Yeah?” I sniff.

There’s a thump on the door and I feel like I can perfectly envision him, forehead tipped against the plain matte-gray exterior of my junky little trailer. All golden and perfect.

“Bailey.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” The words are a sob. I thought I’d hold it together, but I’m not. I’m fucking crumbling.

He says nothing, and it infuriates me, so I get up and shove the fiberglass door open, sending him stumbling back. “Why didn’t you tell me? For a guy who desperately didn’t want our relationship to be founded on a lie, you sure doubled down on this one.”

He licks his lips, the golden light behind him glowing over the silhouette of the house. “I didn’t lie.”

I bark out a harsh laugh. Tears still mar my face, but I don’t care. “Oh, fuck off. It was a lie of omission, and you know it.” I shake my head, looking away at the yard. “And it came out in the most humiliating way. In front of everyone, Beau.”

“I know.” He braces his hands behind his head and stares at me, totally forlorn. “I’m sorry.”

“I don’t want your apology! I want an explanation. Have you spent all these nights sitting at my bar because you’re protecting your investment or because you wanted to be with me?”

“Bailey, how can you even ask me that? I’ve been totally hands-off with that place for years. It’s always been about you.”

My chest. It hurts.

“Explain.”

His hands scrub over where the hair is shorter at the back of his head, an expression of concentration on his face as he rifles through his head. He’s clearly trying to pick his next words carefully.

He paces. “One night when I was home and heading in there to meet Jasper for a drink, I overheard the owner and the manager talking outside.”

I prop a shoulder against the doorframe and cross my arms. A silent instruction for him to keep going.

“They were talking about how the place was getting run-down. There wasn’t enough money to fix it up. Fred, the guy who owned it, told Jake that firing you might bring more people down.”

I try to cover my flinch, but my cheek twitches and I know he sees it. I look away. Fucking Fred. That guy was such a creep.

“But Jake refused. Said you were a good employee and needed the job. He went to bat for you and lost his job for it.”

“Jake?”

Beau nods.

“But he’s still the manager.” Jake is from the city and has always been nice to me, didn’t know or care much about my background.

“I hired him back, but I’ve done it all through a lawyer to keep myself anonymous. I’m totally hands-off. Except when I go in and fix the odd thing. I fixed that tap for you the other day. But I still wanted to be able to go to my favorite bar with my friends and family and just be a regular joe patron. A regular small town guy in a regular small town bar.”

“I … I don’t even know how to make sense of this. Why buy it at all?”

The smile that touches his lips is sad. “I watched you that night. I saw how hard you worked. How nervous you were. And I … ” He scrubs his hands down over his face. “I don’t know, Bailey. I guess I’ve always been impulsive where you’re concerned. Because I walked into the back and made Fred an offer on the place that he couldn’t refuse. It just didn’t feel right. Knowing what he was going to do to you.”

“That’s insane. Of course it’s not right! For a man who’s been through some shit, you’re awfully idealistic, Beau. Bad things happen to good people. You don’t need to be a hero every time. You don’t need to save everyone.”

He shrugs. “You’re not everyone.”

I stare at him, slack-jawed. I want to hug him, and I want to hit him. All at once. He is infuriating. My teeth grind as I watch him. “I’m so fucking mad at you.”

His eyes drop, but not before I see the shame there. “I know.”

“Why didn’t you just tell me?”

“I wanted to. Fuck.” He wipes at his mouth and paces. “I wanted to. Jasper told me to. He’s the only person I ever told. But I knew we were too far down this path for it to not hurt you or make you feel like I was maneuvering behind your back. And, god, Bailey. The very last thing in the world I ever want to do is hurt you.”

My throat aches, constricts on itself until I’m almost nauseous.

“I actually felt like I was your partner, Beau. Like you respected me. I really felt like I was integral to you somehow. I wasn’t a project. Not some deep-cover mission. Not a pawn in you playing super soldier to scratch an itch or fool your family.”

“I do respect you. And you are integral to me. I fucking love you, Bailey.”