Page 31

"So much that you broke her heart by stealing from her, right?" I ask, my tone hard. If he's expecting sympathy, he won't find it here. My loyalty is to her. Always.

He flinches, guilt flickering in his gray eyes. "It wasn't supposed to happen like that," he whispers. "She wasn't supposed to know."

"Jesus Christ."

"I intended to have it paid back before she even realized it was missing. I didn't know she had her dad double-checking the accounting," he mutters.

I shake my head in disgust. "Do you even hear yourself right now? You're making excuses for stealing from your best friend." I glance at him, my lip curled. "We both know your family could afford to buy half this fucking town, but you're stealing from a woman who has had to fight for every goddamn thing she's got. And all you have are excuses."

"You don't know, do you?" he asks, looking at me like he's surprised.

"Know what?"

"Jesus," he mutters, running a hand through his hair. "I thought you would have put two and two together by now."

"What the fuck are you talking about?"

"The money went to investors, Bishop."

"What?"

"I wasn't taking it for the hell of it," he says. "I used it to pay the investors who backed her."

"Explain," I growl.

He hesitates for a moment, then sighs. "When I told my father that I was leaving the company to sign on as her manager, he cut me off. I knew how she'd react if I told her, so I didn't tell her. She thinks I'm the one who covered the costs of producing her EP and that she paid me back, but I had to find investors to help back her. And investors don't just want their costs back. They want interest too. That fifty thousand was the interest I owed to settle the debt."

I stare at him for a long moment, trying to decide whether he's bullshitting me. But I don't think he is. He looks tired more than anything. Son of a bitch. "Why the fuck didn't you just tell her that?"

"I don't fucking know, okay? I don't know!" he growls, shoving his hands into his hair. "She was so fucking proud of herself when the EP blew up without investors or backing. I didn't want to be the asshole who had to tell her that she didn't actually do it on her own because I went behind her back and found people with connections to invest in her." He paces in a circle, muttering curses. "And then when she found out about the money, I just fucking…let her run with the version she'd come up with because I thought it was better that way. At least then she could still feel like I hadn't fucked up her dream from the very beginning by not being honest with her."

I rock back on my heels, staring at him in shock. "You're in love with her."

"You just figuring that out?" He laughs without humor. "I've been in love with her since we were teenagers, but she never figured that shit out. I've always just been her best friend."

"You don't deserve her." Is it a dick thing to say? Maybe. But it's also the truth. Every step of the way, he's been selfish. He's done everything he could to hide the truth, to pull strings and keep himself in her life, even when it was at her expense. He wanted to pretend he covered the cost of her EP when, in reality, he made deals she never agreed to and took on debts she never asked him to, just so he could feel like the fucking hero.

That's not love. That's selfishness.

"And you think you do?" He whirls to face me. "Look around, Bishop." He motions toward the ranch. "You think she'll be happy here? That this is what she deserves? She belongs on that stage. We both know you'll never be man enough to let her go, not when you buried yourself on this fucking ranch just to forget how much you always hated your mo—"

I grab him by the throat, shoving him up against the side of his truck. His breath rushes out in a strangled gurgle. "Watch what the fuck you say to me," I warn him, my voice pitched low. "Just because you've spent some time out here doesn't mean you know me or what I'm willing to sacrifice for her. You don't even know her, not really. If you did, you'd know that the last goddamn thing she'd have chosen was a comfortable lie."

That's not Callie. Even if it meant she was disappointed or that she didn't get to do everything exactly the way she wanted, she would have preferred the truth. She would have preferred a chance to decide for herself. He didn't give her that.

But he wants to stand here now and pretend he knows me. He doesn't even know her. And he'll never deserve her.

That's the difference between him and me. I know what she's worth. I know who she is. And I know damn well that a man worthy of her would never ask her to sacrifice what matters to her just so he can feel like a hero. One worthy of her wouldn't lie to her or steal from her, either.

I may just be a cowboy, but I'm her fucking cowboy. I ride for her. I protect and defend her. She's what matters, not me, my ego, or my bullshit. Her.

He hasn't figured that out yet because he doesn't know how to love her. Because, to him, she's a prize to win. She'll never be that. She will always, always be more.

He glares at me balefully for a moment before the anger drains from his expression. Very slowly, he nods.

I hold him for another second before I release him, stepping back. He stumbles, grasping his throat.

"You're right about one thing," I mutter quietly. "I did bury myself on this ranch. Hell, maybe you're even right about why I did it. But Callie isn't my mother, Swanson. And I'm not fucking stupid. Anyone with eyes can see that she belongs on that stage. You don't have to love her to know that. You just have to look at her to see it. And unlike you, she'll always come first to me. Not because I want anything from her, but because it's what she deserves."