After
Flint Carson had to hand it to his brother. His recent move in life had inspired Flint. And he couldn’t say that he was often inspired by his little brother. Not that Jace wasn’t a decent guy, it was just that Flint, in general, didn’t want what Jace had. He had settled down recently, and that wasn’t in the cards for Flint.
But when his brother had become a part owner of the hotel that his fiancée bought, it had gotten Flint thinking. And then he had done more than think. He had been content for a long time competing in the rodeo. Working his family ranch, giving to them in a way that he could. His father recognized rodeo triumphs, and he took them as credits to who he was as a father, as the rodeo commissioner.
He also recognized contributions to the ranch. His mother appreciated that his father felt appreciated. He didn’t do emotions, so that kind of physical involvement was what he had to give, so he gave it.
At least until a couple of years ago. It had started being profoundly not enough.
And after...
There was just so much anger in him. There had been, for a long time. For a lot of reasons. But after that song had come out...
He gritted his teeth. It infuriated him every time.
But what didn’t infuriate him was his brand-new purchase. Pine Creek Resort. Nestled in the mountains of central Oregon, a couple hours away from his family home of Lone Rock.
He’d seen it and just felt drawn to it. He didn’t give much credit to fate or feelings—not these days. But he believed a man ought to trust his gut.
So, he was trusting his.
It was practically off-grid, and solar panels, generators and other things kept it going with the iffy power running to the place. But it was pretty seamless, and he had done his due diligence on that. Because while he thought it was great that Jace and Cara were running the hotel at the end of the main drag of Lone Rock’s main business center—which was just a few businesses, surrounded by mountains—he wanted more. Bigger.
The thought made his mouth curve into a smile as he looked around the highly polished lobby area. It was all logs and wooden beams. Rustic sort of luxury.
He could remember back when he’d said he didn’t have ambitions or dreams at all.
But that was before.
Back then, everything he’d done had been to burn the rage out of his blood. To push himself to the edge so that he could ride out the simmering hatred that turned his blood to poison.
He’d chased adrenaline because it made things feel clear. Pure. Clean.
Could have been worse.
Could have been heroin.
Maybe it wasn’t all that different now. Maybe this wasn’t all that different. Maybe he was still trying to climb impossible mountains, just with more financial risk than physical.
With the weather being what it was, almost every guest had canceled their reservation for the weekend. There was a huge storm coming in, and while usually the hotel was accessible year-round, there had been some warnings and questions about whether or not it would be possible over the next couple of days. He didn’t mind. A little bit of quiet in his newest acquisition while he looked to the next one was fine by him.
And since there was only going to be one guest, he’d let the staff go as well. The guest had declined maid service, and there was enough food that all he would have to do was heat and deliver. And he didn’t mind that.
A little bit of manual labor didn’t bother him at all. In fact, he thought it was good. Another way to burn out that rage. He had to do it.
And as if just thinking had brought it all to him, he suddenly became aware of the fact that there was music playing in the lobby. And not just any music.
You were the cowboy my mama warned me about
And I thought I listened, I thought you were different
I gave you my heart, and you gave me good-luck charms
I gave you my body, and you kept my scarf
I gave you my body, and you kept my heart
For God’s sake. Was it destined to follow him everywhere? Even when he quite literally owned the damn place?
He growled and stalked toward the reception desk. The guy had told him how to control the music, but as his own personal level of hell played around him, he couldn’t quite remember how.
I gave you everything to the sound of crashing waves
You knew you were the first one
I wanted you to be the only one
It made him think of her.
The song always made him think of her.
The way she’d looked at him, like she was searching his eyes for the answers to all of her questions. Wordless questions he’d wished he hadn’t understood. Questions that still echoed inside him.
In the end, she’d said that he was right. She had said that they needed to finish the whole damned thing.
She was the one that had called it a fling.
She said she loved you too.
