Chapter 15
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
BITTERN
I take the work truck, cleaning it out as best I can beforehand.
She’s waiting by the barn at seven. Nobody taught me how to do the dating thing properly, but I had a quick conversation with Ed in the barn, and he filled me in on some basics.
I pull up beside her, cut the engine, and circle the truck to open her door.
She gives me this look that kind of makes my head spin.
Soft, hesitant, but eager. Our hands brush as I go to help her in, and she tries to lift herself up at the same time. Our bodies bump.
“Sorry,” she says.
“No, sorry,” I say.
We look at each other. I put out my hand, and she lays hers in it. A warm tingle goes through me, and I gently lift her into the passenger seat. My heart is going pretty damn fast as I circle the truck, and it’s even faster when I slide into the driver’s side.
I pull down the driveway.
“How are you feeling?” she asks, giving me a soft smile.
At first, I think about answering stiffly, making small talk. Then, the world goes quiet for a short breath, and the gravity of tonight hits me. This is my shot with her, and I am not fucking throwing it away.
“Pretty good now that you’re here,” I say casually.
She blushes—I take that feather and tuck it into my cap—and the tension in the car eases.
“You been working today?” she asks, settling in and crossing one leg over the other.
“Yeah,” I say, distracted by the sight of bare thigh.
She’s in a short sundress with an embroidered bodice. The straps tie in little bows on her shoulders, tasseled ends hanging down her back. On her feet are brown leather cowboy boots. I don’t know if I’ve ever seen anything as pretty as her tonight. I just hope I can make it worth her while.
“Deacon’s got a bunch of cattle he’s moving from one side of the ranch to the other,” I say, breaking the short silence. “It’s been pretty easy, but it will take a while.”
“I’ve been there, done that.”
“Really?”
“Sort of,” she says, shrugging. “I grew up on Ryder Ranch, so I’ve seen a lot of seasons come and go. My dad put in his time running cattle, and I used to help him before I left.”
“Why’d you leave?”
She’s quiet, biting her lower lip. “Went to college, outside the city.”
Right away, I’m a little bit intimidated. I push it down because, again, I will not be fucking this up. No chance.
“You like it where you’re living in the city?” I ask.
She shrugs again, almost wistfully. “It’s fine. I have a nice apartment, but…I’ve had some life changes, and it’s a little less welcoming than before.”
I know about the ex-boyfriend, but now is not the time to bring him up. Not that I want to, because he had his shot and he fumbled it. Tonight is my turn.
“Had a few life changes myself,” I say lightly.
She laughs. “So I heard.”
We’re heading down the state route, past the road that used to lead up to the house where Aiden, Ryland, and I lived.
Usually, I avoid driving this way, but tonight, I barely flick my eyes over the mailbox and winding gravel path.
There’s a lot that disturbed me in the past, but it’s been months, and I have a thicker skin now—and a whole hell of a lot of carefully taught coping methods.
We pass by, and I don’t feel anything but a twinge of regret.
“You want to dance tonight?” I ask, leaning back and stretching my legs.
She glances sideways beneath her lashes. I like the way she does her makeup, smoky copper around her eyes and shimmer on her mouth. That gets me thinking about her mouth a little bit. My head goes on a journey it doesn’t mean to, and I drag it back just in time to catch her answer.
“I’d like to,” she says. “What about you though? You dance?”
“Not unless I got a good reason to.”
“And you do?”
“Better than a good reason tonight.”
She blushes again. Am I being smooth? We go back and forth a little bit like this, until the faint lights of Knifley appear in the distance.
It’s crowded, being the weekend. I find us a spot in city parking, down at the end, and get out.
She stays in place this time while I open her door.
For a second, I have the choice to play it safe or take a chance.
I choose the latter, holding out my arm so she can jump down against my side for the barest second.
I feel her, warm against my chest.
Then, she’s on her feet, smiling. Overhead, the streetlamps swirl in gold halos around her body. I think she might be the prettiest woman alive.
“You alright to walk about a block?” I ask.
She nods, and I step down on the curb, but she doesn’t move.
“Alright there?” I ask.
Shyly, she holds out her hand. “We’re walking but not holding hands? Hardly a date.”
My heart is in my throat, on my tongue. Carefully, I reach for her hand, shocked by how small it is.
I’m a bigger guy, a few inches over six feet with a broad build.
She barely comes up to my shoulder, but it’s still strange to feel how her hand disappears into mine.
It’s also nice, and it makes me feel like I want to keep her safe.
“You ready?” I ask.
“I’m ready.” She gives me a glowing smile.
We walk, me moving on the outside because Ed told me to do it that way, and it makes sense.
Up ahead, the Left Boot has its doors wide open, yellow light streaming out onto the street.
It’s pretty full as we approach but not jam packed.
Actually, it’s the right amount of people to feel relaxed, but not enough to be suffocating.
We duck in through the door and head to an empty space at the bar.
I pull out her chair, and she waits for me to help her up.
I like that.
“What are you drinking?” I ask, leaning on the counter.
She considers, scanning the wall of bottles. “How about a beer?”
I order one for her and ask the bartender for a non-alcoholic one for myself.
If she notices, she doesn’t point it out, which I’m glad for.
I wasn’t an alcoholic, but I don’t like the feeling of being impaired anymore.
The worst I’m comfortable with now is an over the counter sleeping pill or a cup of coffee. It’s nice that she doesn’t bring it up.
“You been down here before?”
I shake my head. “No, haven’t had much time to get out since I got back.”
“Me and some friends in high school broke in one night and played pool,” she says. “We were too scared to drink anything, which was good, because I’d probably be banned forever if I stole their shit.”
I lean on the bar, close to her but not close enough. “You were kinda wild in high school, huh?” I press.
She shrugs, smiling. “Not really. We dabbled, but Dad was pretty strict back then. He’s loosened up a lot since.”
“Seems pretty strict now.”
“Is he making you work for it?”
“Nah, we’re good,” I say, shrugging. “I like working for Andy. And I’m glad your mom is around for Freya. She’s been a big support for her.”
She nods, sobering. “My mom’s great, probably better than I deserve.”
“Doubt that. Freya needs it. She didn’t have a mother growing up.”
She turns in the seat, and one boot touches the side of my leg. “I heard a little bit about how things were back home.”
I’m not sure if I want to get into my past tonight. There must be something on my face that says that out loud, because she clears her throat, taking a drink of her beer and setting it aside.
“You want to dance with me?” she says.
I set my bottle down, holding out my hand.
The band in the corner has just started on a slow dance with an upbeat undertone.
I’ve never really danced much before, and my heart's thumping a steady drum in my ears, but I lead her into the crowd of swaying couples like I know what I’m doing.
My hand falls on her waist, acutely aware of her warm skin beneath her dress.
My other hand interlaces with hers, and she starts moving us gently.
“You’re real tall,” she says.
“Thanks, I think.”
“I mean, it’s a good thing. I like tall men. I just didn’t notice until you were right up on me.”
The corner of my mouth curls. “I’m right up on you?”
Her face flushes. “I mean, like, beside me.”
“I know what you meant.”
She rolls her eyes and, to my shock, moves in close and puts her cheek against my chest. My body is on fire as I slide my arm a little closer around her body.
I’m so fucking glad the rusty romantic side of me is taking over right now, because if I get hard, she’s gonna feel every inch, and I don’t know if I can live that down right now.
“You feel good,” she whispers.
“So do you.”
We dance for a while without talking. The song ends and another begins, this one slow and a little haunting.
It kind of reminds me of back home, of coal country, where we’ve got a few too many sad songs woven into the mountains.
But tonight, with her in my arms, it doesn’t get me down.
It’s more like looking back at the end of a long road and seeing how far I made it.
“You alright?” she murmurs.
“Yeah,” I say. “Are you?”
“Yeah. Your heart’s beating real slow.”
Gently, I touch her hair. It’s so soft, I barely feel it on my work-roughened fingers.
I was nervous for tonight because I’m not much of a talker, and I know going on dates is all about conversation.
But I like the way she’s just letting us be together, to feel the rhythm of my heart when my body is against hers.
There’s something real intimate about it.
“When do you reckon we should head back?”
“Hmm,” she murmurs. “After you kiss me, I reckon.”
Goddamn.
“Your heart’s not so slow anymore,” she whispers.
“Damn right it’s not.”
She laughs, pulling back so she can look up into my face. “You want to go for a walk, take the long way around back to the car?”
“Yeah, that’s fine. Let me close our tab.”