The taste of forbidden

20. Need and loss. [Part 1]

20. Need and loss.

Lia.

I move the pencil across my graphics tablet, focused on my drawing, but also on Autumn’s excited movements as she digs through the run-down closet that now belongs to me.

"How do you have such pretty clothes, but I always see you in leggings and cotton tops?"

"I like to be comfortable," I tell her.

"Shorts are comfortable, Lia, and they help with this hellish Texas heat."

If I’m honest, I get a little self-conscious wearing them around so many men. It’s not that I think badly of them, or that I consider myself irresistibly beautiful, but wearing something small might draw attention… and staying unnoticed is my favorite pastime.

I stay quiet, doodling test sketches, searching for the inspiration and creativity I’ve been missing these past days.

"Put these on for the festival."

I look up to see the denim shorts Autumn’s holding out—simple, frayed fabric, but so short.

I shake my head and go back to my tablet.

I hear her humming while she continues digging through the closet, so happy and lively that she looks like she belongs on a greeting card.

Since the incident with Loretta, Autumn has self-declared herself my best friend and often comes to spend the afternoons with me. Even if she just sits correcting texts on her laptop while I work on my designs, she seems perfectly content in my presence.

It’s… nice.

And she’s completely nuts.

"Look!"

This time, she shows me a short denim overall—the one I bought during my trip to Dallas with Becket. It has patterns that reminded me of the flowers blooming at the ranch.

I hesitate.

"I don’t want to draw attention."

"You’re Lia Callahan. You’re practically the town’s star. Even if you wear gray, you’ll still turn heads."

I flinch at her words.

I don’t want to go to the festival. Just imagining the music, the people, the noise—it makes me want to crawl out of my skin. But there’s a chance Loretta will be there. And since Becket is the one delivering the jam, I don’t want to give her the chance to hurt him again. Especially not in front of the whole town.

The memory of the things that woman said to him in front of his own workers fuels a fire of rage inside me. I know Beck thinks the ranch staff turned against her because of me. But I believe they did it for him. They respect me because I protect him—which says more about the love they have for him than for me.

Cassidy has been spending more and more time at Becket’s house and with me. Her mood is dull, and I can see it’s making Hank worried, even furious. A fury I’m sure is directed at his wife. From what I’ve heard, Loretta has moved in with her mother in town, but she’s still causing trouble when it comes to Cass. I don’t know if Hank and Loretta are officially separated, but Rose told me that every time Loretta has tried to take Cass with her, Hank’s stopped her.

I wonder if their problems will end up in court.

I laugh, pulled back to the present as Autumn starts modeling a way-too-provocative bra I bought on a whim to wear under my clothes.

"You have so much sexy underwear!"

"Hey!" I throw a pillow at her as she keeps snooping through my drawers of panties and bras.

"Lingerie!"

"Autumn!" I drop my tablet on the mattress and jump off the bed toward her, slamming the drawer shut and blocking her way. "Give me that," I say, snatching a pair of lacy white panties from her hands.

I shove them into the drawer behind me, shifting back and forth like her mirror, stopping her from getting close again.

She lets out a cackle, pushes me aside, and dives her nosy hands right back into my drawer. I grab her arm, pulling her toward me until I fall back onto the bed, taking her with me. I trap her with my legs, stopping her from getting back on her feet to make another attempt.

I don’t even realize I’m laughing until we fall to the floor, breathless.

I stare at the ceiling, hands resting on my stomach as I try to steady my breathing.

"Nosy."

"Slut," she teases, still laughing. "Have you always worn this kind of underwear? Jesus, Lia, that would get any man hot just looking at that sexy thing. Did Lucas…?"

I press my hand against her mouth, silencing her.

"I’m not talking about the s*x life I had with Lucas."

"Don’t worry, babe, I’ve already got a good idea of how well you kept him entertained."

"Autumn!" I groan, covering my face as my cheeks flush red.

I get up off the floor, pick up the scattered garments, and put them away. Autumn sits cross-legged on the floor, looking at me with that mischievous expression on her face.

"Tell me the truth—how many men have you seduced wearing that stuff?"

"Autumn," I repeat, hoping she’ll drop it.

She doesn’t.

"Lia, be honest with me. You’ve been single for over two years… don’t you ever feel the urge?"

Is this what it feels like to have a friend?

I want to strangle her.

I’m not used to talking about my s*x life with anyone. I’ve always been pretty private about that. And since that was something that only ever concerned Lucas and me, I never saw a reason to talk about it with anyone else.

Still…

"Would it be wrong?" I ask, dropping down beside her.

"To feel the urge?"

"No, I…" I groan, frustrated. "Maybe I… I don’t know… feel attracted to someone else?"

I fidget with my toes, waiting for her answer.

"Lia, look at me…" the softness in her voice makes me meet her understanding eyes. "Lucas died two years ago. Why would that be wrong?"

"Because…" I go silent, unable to say what I’m thinking, afraid she’ll judge me.

I haven’t even admitted it to myself—how could I admit it to her?

"You already mourned him, you honored his memory. There’s nothing wrong with moving on."

I nod, listening, but her words still don’t quite feel right.

Not when…

"What if it’s not even about s*x?"

"Mmm?"

"What if it’s something more?" Tears fill my eyes, my voice rough with emotion as I whisper, "It feels like I’d be betraying his love if…"

"If you end up loving someone else?"

I wipe away a tear running down my cheek, staring again at my toes.

"Sometimes I don’t even understand myself. It’s just… confusing."

"Lia…"

"I don’t know what I feel. Not when it’s so different from what I felt for Lucas…"

"Every love is different, Lia."

"I know." I sniffle. "But the fact that everything feels so different… it makes it all feel more confusing. Harder to figure out. Harder to understand."

Harder to accept.

When she pulls me into her arms, hugging me gently, I close my eyes and let the tears fall in silence.

"You have the right to move forward, Lia…" she pauses and adds even softer, "The heart doesn’t choose. The heart feels. And we’re not to blame for that. We can’t control it—because the more we try to tame it, the more it slips through our fingers. As long as it makes you happy, and it’s good for you, nothing else should matter… you get me?"

I nod, but I stay silent—too scared to put it into words… even in my own head.

[...]

The town’s main park is beautifully decorated with bright, cheerful colors. The food and market stands are swarming with people. The noise, the music, the laughter—it’s all so loud, and I want to leave the moment I arrive.

Autumn’s hand tightens around mine, making me look at her.

"What?" I ask, since I missed what she said.

"I have to go to my grandma’s booth to help her with her carrot cakes. You coming with me?"

I look around, searching for him.

But there are so many people… so many.

Isn’t this supposed to be a small town?

There must be a lot of tourists too, because it’s impossible that this is just locals.

"I want to go with Beck," I whisper more to myself than to her, but Autumn hears me. She nods, grabs my hand, and leads us through the crowd that swarms around every stall.

When I finally spot him—handing out jam jars, wearing his hat but flashing that polite, reserved smile that highlights his scar—my anxiety eases just a bit.

He keeps handing out jars, not noticing me. So when he finally sees me, I catch the surprise and the gentle joy that cross his face. His smile shifts from reserved to full, crinkling the corners of his eyes—the only thing, along with the few gray hairs in his beard, that reveal his age.

I smooth my hands over my hips, nervous.

"I’ll leave you with Becket, I’m going to see my grandma," Autumn says, giving me a little nudge toward him.

My feet won’t move, rooted to the ground like iron.

The shyness I’ve been feeling around him lately—so strong that sometimes I don’t know how to act—leaves me with only one option: avoid him. Which I suspect he’s been doing with me too.

But today, I don’t want us to avoid each other. Not with Loretta around.

It’s so strange that I sleep next to this man every night, yet during the day we don’t know how to speak to each other.

I miss him.

Becket pats Beau on the shoulder—the worker helping him hand out jam jars—and then makes his way over to me.

There are light projectors casting colors all around, and as Becket walks toward me, a kaleidoscope of light plays across his face, painting him in hues that make me want to run to him, bury my face in his chest, and hear him tell me everything’s going to be okay.

And I’d believe him.

I would.

[1/3]