Page 7 of When It Reins (Three Rivers Trevors Ranch #5)

mitch

I realize after my two encounters with Juniper that I wasn’t being very subtle. Not that I was trying to or even any good at that, but I was hoping I could figure out what was going on without the girl getting hurt.

She is innocent, maybe far too innocent to even be with the guy she is, but she doesn’t deserve to be stuck in the middle, and me going after her asshole boyfriend without giving her a reason was just going to blow up in my face.

When I head back to work over the next few days, it seems that Juniper is giving me the silent treatment. As someone who rarely talks at all, I am able to easily notice when someone isn’t talking to me, and her interactions with me became nonexistent.

She normally would greet me before our shifts started, giving me a smile that would last my restless mind for hours. Then during shift, she would supply me with water, but this since has been passed on to another waitress, sometimes even my niece, Lue, who waitresses here with her aunts sometimes.

During her sets, I would easily be able to get her eyes trained on me while she sang her heart out, and I would replay those moments over and over again in my head when I went home at night.

Now she purposefully keeps her head faced away from me.

Then she will sneak out the back door to her car and not let me walk her to it. That one pisses me off the most, because that isn’t a selfish request, that is a matter of safety and her putting herself at risk makes me want to scream.

I’m leaning against a wall, watching her belt out lyrics to a popular country song, getting everyone on the dance floor moving, when a memory hits me.

It was one of the first months I’d been bouncing at Bottle Grounds. I was fresh off the road and dealing with bullshit, and I wasn’t talking to anyone.

Juniper never let that dissuade her and never let my surly ass be alone. She would bring me drinks and chat with me. She would bring me food too, even when I told her I didn’t want it. I became fond of her presence because she never forced me to talk with her.

But one night, I’d been walking her out to the car when she had suddenly turned on me and smiled broadly before saying, “Let’s go out sometime.”

I’d blinked, unprepared for the kind of offer she was giving me.

“Come on.” She crossed her arms over her chest and cocked a hip out, giving me a flirty look. “I see the way you watch me, Mitch. The feeling is mutual. Let’s get dinner or something.”

She had said the words with such confidence, so sure of herself that I had almost agreed without thinking it through.

Finally, the word I was looking for came to me. Unfortunately, I am who I am, and I was more blunt than I should have been.

“No.”

Not even a “No, thank you.”

Just…no.

“No?” Juniper scrutinized me like she didn’t believe the words I was saying. “Are you sure?”

I just stared at her, unable to make myself clearer and more unable to take back the word I had already given.

“All right,” Juniper said, giving a shrug to her shoulders. But I saw the light dim in her eyes before she looked away from me, and I felt like shit, nearly reaching out a hand to stop her from leaving before I thought better of it.

“Let me know if you change your mind.”

She’d gotten in her car and driven away.

I thought when I went back to work the next day, she would act cold toward me.

But that isn’t who she is.

She is a saint. She is kind and sweet and thought no bad thoughts about anyone, ever. She sees the best in people and somehow, she saw the best in me when I didn’t deserve it.

Since then, we’ve become close. Well, as close as we can.

There was a moment a year ago when she’d been flirting heavily with a new wrangler who was working over at Three Rivers, the ranch my brothers work at and have been begging me to come work at, and I’d gone to my brother to ask him to stop it.

My brother said no.

Juniper didn’t date him, but six months later, David came to town.

Since then, our friendship has suffered, and I hate it.

I hate it because I don’t even know if she knows what it means to me. How I love watching her grow more and more confident in her music, in herself.

But I never say anything, because I don’t want to be a burden to her. The girl’s been through enough that I just want her to live the best life she possibly can.

Even if I’m not the man living it beside her.

My chest burns and I rub it, wishing all these fucking feelings would leave me alone.

The night dwindles quickly, the evening crowd having eaten up every word sung from Juniper. When I walk her to her car, because I practically stalked her to make sure it would happen, the girl looks like she is on cloud nine.

I look at her, her hands in her pockets and her face tilted up to the sky. I know, after a show, she gets really hot and loves to come outside for the fresh air. “Happy?”

Juniper startles slightly, and I feel like an asshole. Have I really never asked her if she was happy before?

She smiles at me, and I feel something lift off my chest. “Yeah, I’m happy.”

“Good. Your set was great,” I reply, knowing that if nothing else, I can complement her incredible talent.

“Thanks, Mitch,” she says back, her voice husky from the belting she was doing earlier. I love hearing her talk afterward, knowing that it is going to have a slightly gravelly sound to it.

“How come you’re talking to me now?” I ask, throwing out all caution.

Juniper suddenly stops in the middle of the parking lot. She keeps a slight smile on her face, but I don’t know if it’s real or not. “I just don’t like holding grudges.”

“You have grudges against me?” I ask, amused by this.

She scoffs, as if my question is ridiculous. “Yes. I do. You were completely rude to David the other day.”

I must show my shock, because she rolls her eyes. “Oh, come on. You know what I’m talking about.”

“I do,” I reply, running the interaction over in my head. “I can’t recall when I was rude.”

“I—You…you were going to fight in the middle of the street.” That seems to be the best she can do, and I let out a breath.

“He hurt you,” I reply, keeping my tone even. “He’s lucky he can walk, June.”

She grits her teeth and gives me a look that makes me think her future kids will be scared to cross her, but it’s making me want to laugh. “Don’t do anything stupid, Mitch.”

“I’ll defend you if he touches you again, Juniper.”

Juniper sighs and shakes her head. “David’s a good guy.”

“David’s a tool,” I retort, unhooking my thumbs from where they were resting in my jeans pocket. “You’re way too good for him.”

Suddenly, her expression changes, and she looks at me sadly. Shaking her head, she says, “Too good for him, but not good enough for you, huh?”

I frown at that comment, wondering how she’s so completely off base.

She starts to walk away to her car.

“Juniper.”

She waves a hand over her shoulder and hangs her head.

“June.”

“I gotta go,” she calls, opening her car door. “Have a nice weekend.”

I watch as she drives away, my mind racing at all the implications she put there and wonder why I won’t see her this weekend.

I want to tell her how far off base she is.

But I just don’t know how.