Chapter 17

17

T ex had never kissed a mouth that tasted like Abby's. Not even the first time he'd kissed her. His memory wasn't that good anyway, and this felt like a brand new first kiss he wanted to prolong and prolong so it never had to end.

He paid attention to where he put his hands, because Abby had clearly spent some time doing her hair and makeup for her brother's birthday. He didn't want to mess any of that up, because they'd have to go back inside and eat. People were probably already wondering where they were. Abby hadn't invited that many people to the party, and Tex felt blessed to have been invited at all.

A shiver ran across his shoulders, and he enjoyed the way Abby's fingers moved through his hair. He hadn't put his cowboy hat on again after the prayer, so he wouldn't have to pick it up afterward. That also meant he wouldn't have anything to hide behind.

He told himself he didn't need to hide from Abby. She'd trusted him with her emotions, and she'd told him how she felt in words and actions. He stroked his lips against hers, a growl moving through his whole body at the sweetness she introduced into his life.

He finally broke the kiss, the tightness in his chest telling him he needed to breathe deeper than kissing allowed. He kept his eyes closed and his face real close to hers, getting the floral hints of her perfume as well as the fruity taste of her mouth.

"Frosting," he whispered. That was what she tasted like. Not fruit. Frosting. He opened his eyes and put a bit more distance between them. Enough that he wouldn't have to go cross-eyed to look at her. "Abs, I like you a whole lot."

She smiled, and he wanted to drink it right up. He grinned too, matching his curved lips to hers. That didn't really work for a kiss, and he chuckled. "So much," he said, sobering. "Some days, I think I might be falling in love with you."

She pulled in a breath. "Tex."

"I'm serious," he said. "I've been afraid to kiss you, because then I would have to face that."

She leaned into him, her hands still up around his neck. "I can't believe a big, tall cowboy like you is afraid of anything."

"Just losing you," he whispered, letting his eyes drift closed as he pressed his cheek to hers.

"Why would you lose me?"

Tex's own fears and doubts roared through him. "There's so much in my life that isn't stable," he said. "When I have to go make the album, I might need help with Bryce."

"What else are good neighbors for?" Abby teased, and Tex pulled back and smiled at her again. He wanted to kiss her again, and he leaned in to get the job done.

"Dad?" his son called as if summoned by Tex saying his name a few moments ago.

He stepped out of Abby's arms with a sigh, and said, "Busted." He liked the way Abby giggled as he walked away from her, and he arrived at the corner of her house a moment later. "Right here, bud."

"Is Abby with you?" he asked, coming down the steps. "Her daddy is worried about her."

"Yeah, she's over here." Tex looked back toward her and found her fixing her hair. "She just…needed a minute. Couldn't breathe in there after that amazing proposal." He turned back to Bryce, hoping he didn't wear too much of Abby's lip gloss. He wasn't entirely sure she'd been wearing any, but he still had to force himself to keep his hand at his side.

Bryce slowed a few steps away, his phone ringing in his pocket. A startled look crossed his face, and Tex catalogued that. His son silenced his phone without answering it and said, "I'll tell her dad."

"I'm coming," Abby said, and Tex let her come up beside him. "Sorry, Bryce." She smiled at him as she went past Tex, not a look for him at all. She reached up and touched his son's face as she went by, something unspoken moving between them.

They both stood in the front yard and watched her go in, and then Tex asked, "What was that?"

"I was going to ask you the same thing," Bryce said, facing Tex once the front door closed. "You kissed her, didn't you?"

"Yes," Tex said, seeing no reason to deny it.

His son settled his weight on one foot. "Are you going to marry her?"

"I don't know," Tex said. "It was our first kiss, Bryce. You don't know stuff like that with a first kiss." At least he didn't want Bryce to think he should. He smiled at his son and slung his arm around him, turning him back toward the front door too. "Did you save me a pepperoni pocket?"

"Yes," Bryce said, and he didn't sound happy. Tex didn't know how to have this conversation with his nearly grown son, and he questioned whether now was a great time to be so involved with Abby. He had an album to make, a son to support through his senior year, and they still had plenty to do around the ranch and inside the house.

Otis had returned several days ago, and he wasn't doing great after his break-up with Isabella. He'd come home, and Tex wanted to make sure he could provide the support his brothers and parents needed too. He and Bryce had helped Dani and Mav with their kids while they got over the stomach flu, and he'd been grateful he was available and present to be able to do that.

Adding a serious relationship felt unwise to Tex, but he'd also said the truth. He didn't want to lose Abby. Not again.

He followed his son back inside, where the party had continued without him. He found his hat hanging on the rack just inside the door, and he grabbed it and put it back on his head. Abby had an empty seat beside her, and Tex spotted his pizza pocket. Bryce said, "I didn't get you any salad."

"I'll get it," he said, giving his son a smile he hoped would convey to Bryce how appreciative he was. The boy had spent all summer with him. He'd made no attempt to find kids his own age and make friends, but he had been teaching guitar lessons to two of the Hammond kids. Chris and then Cy's boy, Thomas.

He served himself some green salad and took his seat between his son and Abby. He usually loved participating in conversations and getting to know people, but today, he just listened. He watched Wade and Cheryl, who obviously loved each other powerfully. He wondered what other people saw when they looked at him and Abby.

He wished he didn't worry so much about the unknown, but the truth was, without the safety and security of being in the band, where someone managed his life and schedule for him, Tex worried. He feared. He doubted. He hated not knowing when he'd be called back to Nashville, and what he'd do about Bryce at that time.

"How are you, Tex?" Abby's mother asked, and he pushed away the questions and put a smile on his face.

"Just fine, ma'am. You?" He prayed he could be present tonight and worry later, because he didn't need to come off as a sulky cowboy to his girlfriend's parents. The future would work itself out, because it usually did. Tex just needed to have faith that he could live his life without Mav managing it for him.

Later that night, Tex knew there was a problem the moment he opened the back door. The banging of pots and pans met his ears, and he tapped the door closed with his cowboy boot and went around the corner. "Bryce?"

His son threw him a death glare, and Tex couldn't stop himself from reaching up to wipe his mouth. He'd stayed over at Abby's to help her clean up after the birthday dinner, and yeah, he'd kissed her again before coming home. It wasn't a crime, as Mav had told Luke and Trace several times over the course of his dating relationship with Dani.

"Whoa," Tex said, bending down to scratch Franny behind the ears. "What did I do?" The canine sat right on his left foot, half protecting him and half comforting him.

Bryce cracked an egg with one hand, his head bent. Tex would be lucky if he saw his face during this conversation at all.

"Is Otis here?"

"Yeah," Bryce said. "I mean, no. He ran to town to get more salami and crackers so he doesn't have to leave the house tomorrow."

Otis stayed in the basement, on the couch in the living room, as the bedrooms downstairs weren't done yet. Tex had paid a landscaper to dig out part of the lawn to make a walk-out basement with steps leading up to the patio he'd poured when the deck had been framed. In the beginning, there'd been so much progress around the house and ranch, and now Tex felt like it had slowed.

"Did he say something to you?"

"No," Bryce clipped out. "I mean, not something he shouldn't have." He kept cracking eggs, finally tossing the broken shells into the sink and facing Tex. "You still have an album to make."

"I know," Tex said.

"Otis has been writing songs like mad since he got here, and he's got a call on Monday with King Country."

Tex swallowed, because this was exactly what he'd been worried about for weeks now. "All right."

"No, it's not all right , Dad," Bryce said, picking up the milk and splashing some into his bowl. "They're gonna call you back to Nashville. They'll call you back, and you'll have to go. You have a contract."

"Bryce."

"And school starts in three weeks. Here, Dad. What am I supposed to do? Transfer to freaking Nashville?" His chest heaved, and he whipped those eggs as if punishing them for Tex's country music contract.

"Son," Tex said, risking his life as he moved over to the countertop where Bryce worked and took the fork from him. "Stop for a second."

Bryce wore the angriest look Tex had ever seen, beating the one he'd given him in April when Tex had shown up to get him for Mav's wedding. Then, he'd begged Tex to ask Corrie if he could have him for the summer and for senior year. He hadn't wanted to live with her anymore, and Tex felt like he'd done everything wrong in the boy's life right now.

Bryce's fury cracked and a sob lurched from him. Tex tossed the fork, not caring where it landed, and wrapped his son up tightly in his arms. "Hey," he said, his voice as soothing as he could make it. "I'm right here, and I'm not going anywhere."

Bryce gripped him tightly too. "How, Dad? How are you not going anywhere?"

"I…I'm working on it," he said, but his mind was still blank. He'd been praying for an answer to this exact problem, and nothing had come. Absolutely nothing. Standing in his kitchen, holding his emotional, worried son, Tex still couldn't come up with a solution to the album he was contractually obligated to make.

He couldn't let his label down. He couldn't let down Otis, Luke, and Trace. They all counted on him to be there to sing the lyrics that Otis wrote so beautifully. Yes, since Otis had been back in Coral Canyon, he'd written an entire album's worth of songs at lightning speed. He'd told Tex that country music came easier when he wasn't happy, but Tex hated that he wasn't happy.

Otis claimed he'd find his way back to living joyfully again, but if Tex didn't specifically ask him to help with a project around the house or ranch, Otis spent most of the day at the dining room table, writing music or lyrics.

With Trace and Luke in town too, the usual talk surrounding a new album had been at an all-time high. Tex's anxiety was too, and so was Bryce's, obviously.

"Listen," Tex said, stepping back. He held Bryce with his fingers around the back of the boy's neck, his thumbs going up in front of his ears. "You're my son, and I will always choose you first. I know I've been awful about that in the past, but that changed this spring."

"How are you going to make an album in Nashville while I go to senior year here?"

"I'm not going to Nashville," Tex said, a ray of heavenly light appearing in his mind. "I'm going to build a recording studio right here on the ranch."

Bryce looked at him with pure hope in his eyes. He searched Tex's face, and Tex started to laugh. "Yeah," he said. "That's right. There's two hundred acres here. We'll put up a barn, and we'll fill it with a recording studio."

"Dad," Bryce said, his voice mostly made of air.

"What?" Tex said, releasing his son. "It makes sense." He paced away from the stove, his mind whirring now. "All the boys are here. We live here. We shouldn't have to all fly to Nashville and find apartments while we record. How long can it take to build a studio? I get the equipment and install it, and we're good to go."

He turned back to Bryce, his own hope starting to lift. He'd been stewing over this for weeks, and he couldn't believe it had taken him this long to come to this solution. Just like it had taken him a while to get up the gumption to kiss Abby.

"This could work, right?"

Bryce went back to his eggs, pouring them into the hot pan, where they hissed as it had been heating for too long. "You're the charmer, Dad." He looked over to Tex. "Work your magic on your producer."

Tex didn't believe he possessed any magic, but he knew he couldn't go to Nashville for months on end to make the last album on his contract. The other boys might be able to, but Tex had Bryce full-time now, and he wasn't going to send him back to Corrie in Boise. He wasn't going to ask Abby and Wade to watch him for months.

He'd thought about asking his parents, but Tex was tired of having someone else take care of his responsibilities. No. It was time for him to be the father he should've been this whole time, and he wasn't leaving Bryce here and recording in Nashville.

Bryce had just plated his scrambled eggs when the doorbell rang. They looked at one another, and Tex asked, "Are you expecting someone?"

"No," Bryce said, putting his plate on the table and sitting down. He could see the front door from his spot, but he nodded toward it while he forked up a bite of his second dinner.

Tex rolled his eyes and went to answer the door. He pulled it open, and a pretty blonde woman stood there. Tex cocked his head and said, "Good evening."

She carried a plate of cookies in her hands and a look of apprehension on her face. "Good evening," she said politely. "Is Bryce here?"

"Bailey?" Bryce jogged to the door now, his dinner forgotten. He tried to muscle Tex out of the way, but Tex wasn't having any of that. "Hey, Bailey." He exhaled like he'd run a mile not ten steps.

"I texted," she said. "But you must not have seen it." She flicked her gaze toward Tex, who pressed into the back of the couch and stared at the side of his son's face. Bryce ignored him with supreme perfection and took the cookies.

"Let's talk outside." He went out onto the front porch with the very pretty Bailey No-Last-Name, and pulled the door closed behind him.

Tex moved over to the window and peered through it, but Bryce wasn't stupid. He didn't sit with Bailey on the front porch. He took her back down the sidewalk, and they moved out of Tex's line of sight.

Tex held his ground in the living room and started researching what he needed to build a recording studio in a barn that didn't exist yet. Ten minutes later, the front door opened again, and Bryce walked in, a soft, happy smile on his face.

Oh, Tex had seen a smile like that on a man's face before. "Who's Bailey?" he asked.

Bryce yelped and dropped the plate of cookies. "Jeez, Dad, have you been standing there the whole time?"

"Yes, sir," Tex said, moving to stand in front of his son. "Who's Bailey?"

"You've met her, so calm down." Bryce went past him and into the kitchen. "It's Bailey McAllister. She's Graham Whittaker's step-daughter." He took his cold eggs to the garbage and started scraping them into it. "We met her at the Fourth of July thing at the park they invited us to."

"Ah." Tex kept his eye on Bryce, who smartly opened the fridge and leaned into it, using the door to block himself. "And you're…seeing her?"

"No, Dad," Bryce said, like Tex's question was the dumbest one ever asked.

"Have you broken up with Jenny?"

Bryce sighed the sigh of the century as he closed the fridge. "Yes, okay? Yes, I broke up with her. I didn't see the point. She lives in Boise, which is hundreds of miles from here. I'm not going back there, and she's not coming here."

Tex's eyebrows went up. "When did this happen?"

"I don't know. Last week?"

Tex ignored the swooping in his stomach that testified of how left out he felt. He thought Bryce told him everything. "And we've been texting Bailey since…?"

"It's friendly," Bryce said. "She's going to college in Montana in a month, Dad."

"But you like her."

"So what?"

"She likes you." He had eyes, after all.

"Again, so what?" Bryce folded his arms and glared at Tex.

"Son." Tex marched toward his boy. "You can't be dating her now and have her leave. I did that to Abby twenty years ago, and it hurts. She'll hurt you."

"I'm not dating her." Bryce looked right into his eyes, and Tex couldn't tell if he was lying or not.

"I hurt her," Tex said, his voice breaking. "And I've hurt you, and I've been working so hard to fix it all this summer." He realized in that moment the reason why he'd been laboring so hard around this ranch. He was trying to fix everything he'd neglected for the past two decades.

"Dad," Bryce said quietly, his bluster falling. "You haven't hurt me. You've got to stop beating yourself up about that."

"I wasn't there for you when you needed me."

"Actually," Bryce said. "You were. You were , Dad. Every single time. You didn't miss a birthday, and remember how you fixed things when she scared me with all the drinking? And when I needed to get away from Mom, you were there, no questions asked. You got full custody of me when I needed you to, and you really have to stop trying to make up for something that doesn't need to be made up for."

Tex didn't know how to sort through the jumble of emotions in his gut. He grabbed onto Bryce and hugged him again. "I love you," he said.

"I love you too, Dad." Bryce pounded him on the back and stepped away. "Aaaand…I might have a date with Bailey tomorrow night."

"What?" The word exploded from his mouth. "You just said you weren't dating her."

"I'm not," Bryce said. "One date is not dat ing ."

"I don't understand," Tex said, frowning.

Bryce chuckled and shook his head. "Otis is back. You can ask him about it."

"Right," Tex said, turning as Bryce went past him. "I'm going to ask my heartbroken brother about how young people date. That's such a great idea."

"Okay," Bryce said over his shoulder. "I'm going to play with Jordan and Woody."

"I want to see your phone before you go to bed," Tex called after him, and not three seconds later, the front door opened, and Otis said, "Some help here, Tex?"

Before Tex could get to his brother, he dropped the twelve-pack of soda he'd been trying to bring in with four other grocery sacks hanging from his arm.