He wished she had left well enough alone.
Tanner pressed his lips together as he watched Madeline’s reaction to the news. It was always the same. The same widening of eyes, the same jaw drop, the same realization. By the time she hit that last part, he’d already steeled himself for the inevitable response.
Gaping at him as though he were ten cents short of a dollar, she said, “How on earth did you get back on a horse, let alone start a career where you’re regularly thrown from them?”
Even though he expected the reaction, disappointment washed through him. Why did people always feel the need to throw judgment on him and his choices?
He pushed his plate away and seized his beer. “I chose to grab life by the horns. If I had walked away from riding horses, I’d have been giving up something I love. For all the wrong reasons.”
It was plain to see she didn’t understand his reasoning at all. “Yeah, but you don’t just ride well-trained horses. You put yourself in harm’s way by getting on animals that want nothing more than to throw you off.”
“Well, the point is to not get thrown off,” he said drily before taking a long pull of his beer. Did she really think he hadn’t heard this argument a hundred times before?
She shook her head and set her wineglass on the table with a clipped clink. “I can’t believe you can be so flippant about your well-being. If I were you, I wouldn’t go anywhere near the back of a horse.”
“And if your loved one was killed in a car accident, would you avoid driving in a car?”
She made a face. “That’s not the same at all. Driving is a necessity in our society. Riding the back of a bucking bronco is not.”
Scoffing, he said, “Maybe not for you. But I refuse to live life in fear. Nothing makes me feel more alive than taking a risk, so as far as I’m concerned, riding a ‘bucking bronco’ is a necessity in my life.”
“That’s insane,” she said, coming to her feet. “You shouldn’t have to risk your life in order to feel alive.”
He stood as well and stalked to the railing. “How would you know? You live a life so dry that you could give it all up in a snap to follow a job you don’t even care about.”
“I care about my career,” she said indignantly. “And yes, I’m willing to make sacrifices to get ahead in it. I plan to live a long and productive life. That’s more than I can say for you.”
“Oh, really? You’re so bored with your own job you don’t even want to talk about it. Where’s the passion in that?”
Her brow lowered over her golden eyes as she sent him a sour look. “Oh, come on. Who really loves their job? It’s a means to an end. What I want is corporate success, to be respected, and to retire with enough money to live well for the rest of my days.”
Retirement? She didn’t even look thirty yet. Tanner set his bottle on the railing and spread his arms. “Don’t you want to live well now?”
She rolled her eyes. “Of course, but we have to plan for the future, too. We’re adults, for God’s sake. You can’t go following your passion without a thought for the rest of your life.”
He snorted. “You have the rest of your life to worry about the rest of your life. And anyway, what does it matter to you how I live my life? At least I’m living it, and not just existing until I’m old enough to draw retirement.”
“Yeah, because you’re too shortsighted to ever see retirement. You’ll be lucky if you even see old age.”
“Well, thank you for the vote of confidence, Miss Ray of Sunshine.” His sarcasm was palpable, and he wasn’t the least bit sorry for it. “I’d rather go to my grave smiling than die a well-preserved old geezer with a bushel of money and no one or nothing to spend it on.”
“Miss Realist is more like it,” she said stubbornly, crossing her arms over her chest and leaning back against the railing. “I’m sorry, but the truth is you’re reckless and immature.”
“Is that so?”
“Yes, it is,” she said, her eyes flashing. “And it’s that kind of attitude that will leave you stuck forever in this go-nowhere town with your rattling, decades-old truck and plot of land that’s one turn of the color wheel away from looking like a Mars landscape!”
Madeline sucked in a sharp breath, horrified that the words had actually come out of her mouth. How could she have gotten so carried away? If she could have called the words back, she would have in a heartbeat, but it was too late.
Tanner’s eyes cooled to an icy blue as he took a step back. “Darlin’, you don’t know nothing about happiness. All I need is a roof over my head, food in my belly, and the occasional good lay. The first two are taken care of, and you’re welcome to oblige the third any time.”
She pressed her lips together to keep from flinching. She’d just insulted everything he loved and stood for, and she couldn’t even say why. It was none of her business how he lived his life. Perhaps his criticism of her life had hit closer to home than she cared to admit, but even that was no excuse.
Still, his cold dismissal hurt. God, there was nothing about them that was compatible—at least not outside of the bedroom. Agreeing to come here tonight had been incredibly stupid. What had she been thinking?
Swallowing, she lifted her chin and said evenly, “I think it’d be best if you took me home.”
“You bet. Let me just get the keys to my rattling old truck and we can be on our way.” He stalked toward the house, slid open the door, and disappeared inside.
She closed her eyes and sighed. Part of her wanted to go after him and beg for forgiveness, to tell him that she’d been a jerk and she was sorry, but a bigger part of her knew it was for the best to just leave things as they were. It was clear she couldn’t spend time with him as a friend. Until a few minutes ago, she’d spent the whole night trying to ignore the almost palpable attraction between them.
No, it was best to have a clean break. When it came to Tanner Callen, she just couldn’t be trusted to keep her head about her.
When he returned, keys in hand, and stomped down the steps to the flagstone path, she silently followed. Thank God he’d only had the half a beer. If they’d had to wait for him to sober up, she might have decided to walk home, even if it took all night.
Holding her head as high as her guilty conscience would allow, she followed him. As she climbed into the old truck and slammed the door, she couldn’t suppress another sigh.
Her year in Sunnybell couldn’t be over fast enough.