6. David
6
David
“ D rew Bowman. How the hell are you?” I asked.
“David Strickland. My long lost friend. Long time no see, buddy.” Drew grinned as he slapped me on the back.
Drew’s comment, a shot across the bow, landed squarely. Contrite, I sighed. “I know. It’s been awhile. Too long. About six months. Right?”
Taking over the company for Pops had been all consuming. It came at the expense of my social life. That included dating women and hanging out with my buddies from my four years at Texas A&M.
If Drew wasn’t supplying livestock for our product, I’m afraid to think how long it would have been between my visits to see him.
Drew cocked up a brow. “Try closer to a year.”
I winced. “It’s been that long?”
“Sure has. But I guess time flies when you’re running daddy’s multinational, multimillion dollar conglomerate.”
I rolled my eyes. “You’re not doing too bad yourself here I’d say. I saw some pretty fancy machinery and brand new buildings on my way in.”
“Yeah, well, some big feed corporation is way overpaying me for my chickens . . .” Drew grinned then his gaze dropped to the rooster I held under my arm. “So what’s that? You bringing me a chicken as a gift? Because I have to tell you, I already got a few of those.”
I smiled and glanced down at Rowdy. “Not like this one. This one comes with a story.”
Drew eyed the bird that had calmed down on the drive between the shelter and Drew’s place. Now, he’d settled in and had fallen asleep in my arms. “I can’t wait to hear it.”
“And I can’t wait to tell you. Where can I stash him for now?” I asked.
Rowdy was handsome and all, but carrying around a bird like a baby all day wasn’t high on my priority list. Taking a piss and then getting some grub most definitely was. I’d need use of my hands for both.
“There’s a pen of hens I keep around for eggs off the side of the house. We can stick him in there and give the girls a thrill.”
I laughed. “I’m sure Rowdy will appreciate that.”
“Rowdy? You named him?” Drew smirked.
“Long story.”
“As you’ve mentioned.” Drew motioned with the flick of one hand. “Come on then. We’ll toss him in and then you can come on in to the house and tell me this story of yours. I’ve got some cold ones chilling in the fridge and red beans and rice on the stove.”
“Perfect.” I was ready for a drink.
I’d left Texas early yesterday, driven directly to a meeting with a supplier, spent the night in a hotel, and had been up before dawn to make the drive to the shelter.
It was noon. Given my recent schedule, it felt more like suppertime than lunch to me. I definitely could use a beer.
Drew led me to a coop so nice that it put some people’s homes to shame. It was attached to a large shaded wire run that gave the small flock plenty of room to stretch their legs.
“I let them roam every morning when it’s cool. They put themselves back in for the heat of the day. Probably best to close him in there for now so he doesn’t take off.” Drew stepped to the side to give me room to toss Rowdy in.
“Good idea.” I had a feeling Heather wouldn’t take it well if I lost him.
For some reason she’d gotten real attached to him. Good for me since I had him and to see him she’d have to see me. I couldn’t wait.
The bird stood for a second, blinking sleepily as he took note of his surroundings. I saw the moment he noticed his companions. He ran at one, hopped on her back and went right to work.
Drew laughed. “Doesn’t waste any time, does he?”
“Nope.” I shook my head and turned to my friend. Since I wasn’t getting any action lately I really didn’t feel like watching my adopted bird have fun. “So, how about that cold one?”
“You got it.” Drew latched the door and turned toward the house. “He sure is a pretty one.”
“Yup. As pretty as his owner.”
Drew opened the screened door to the home’s kitchen and made a beeline to the fridge. I followed him into the rustic post and beam room decked out with all the most modern appliances.
He carried two longnecks to the counter, popped off the tops and held out one to me.
When I reached for it, he pulled it back, “You ready to start telling that story about the lovely rooster lady?”
I snatched the bottle from his hand. “Yeah. But I’m not sure it’s quite as exciting as you assume.”
Compared to some of our college times, my bumping into Heather twice today, in public, and not even touching her, made for a tame tale.
“Let me be the judge of that. Talk.”
I told the story—what there was of it—starting with the brief but contentious encounter with Heather at the gas station and ending with our second meeting at the shelter where I’d acquired my new feathered friend Rowdy.
“You taking that bird back to Texas with you?” Drew asked.
That question made me realize I hadn’t thought that far ahead. Now that I had, I realized I really couldn’t. It wasn’t just that I didn’t want to take the nearly twelve-hour trip with a rooster in my passenger seat.
It was as much because I’d planned on knocking off a couple more business meetings on the way.
Having Rowdy in tow would royally fuck that up.
“Would you be able to keep taking care of him for me when I go back home?”
“Sure, I can. When you think that’s gonna be? You leaving.”
“Anxious to get rid of me?” I shot him a look as I leaned against the table and took a sip of cold beer.
Drew faced me, his back against the kitchen counter by the big picture window that looked out onto the drive. “Not at all. I love having you here. Makes me feel like we’re back in our college days. The guest room is yours for as long as you want.”
Motion on the driveway caught my attention. A tiny hybrid white car I’d recognize a mile away pulled up the driveway and skidded to a stop next to my truck.
“That’s good to know. Because I might want to stay a good little while,” I said, tracking Heather as she got out and slammed the door so hard the little car rocked.
“Don’t want to leave my scintillating company?” Drew asked, as much of a sarcastic smart ass as he’d ever been.
“More hers.” I tipped my chin toward the window.
Drew pushed off the counter and turned to look. “Let me guess. That’s your chicken momma?”
I chuckled. “It sure is. I hope it’s okay that I texted her your address.”
“Sure thing. Being a fly on the wall for this visit might be the most fun I’ve had in ages,” he said as he continued to watch Heather stalk toward the house. “Haven’t seen you this intrigued with a woman since Shawna junior year.”
Shawna had had some enticing attributes. Mainly she was ready and willing and equipped with a body to make a man stand up and take notice. The problem was, she was a little too ready and willing with too many guys.
I liked to stake a claim when I was with a woman. No man liked trespassers on his territory. The only question was, when it came to Heather, did I want my territory to expand all the way to California when home was in Texas?
She stormed toward the house looking fighting mad.
Drew shook his head. “Woo-wee. She’s looking as angry as a wet hen.”
“Yup.” And it was sexy as hell. I watched her getting closer. “I might be staying a real long while, since you said it’s okay.”
“That’s fine.” Drew rubbed his hands together. “Oh yeah. This is going to be better than Bachelor in Paradise.”
I shot him a glare from beneath my lowered brows. “If I were you I’d never utter that sentence to another living soul.”
But yeah, from what little I knew about that show, the beautiful hot-headed Heather could star in it.
She stomped so hard she raised a cloud of dust around her. If she had a gun belt slung around those shapely hips of hers, this could be a scene out of an old western the way she approached, narrow-eyed, itching for a fight.
Imagine what kind of passion she’d bring to bed if she showed this much from being mad at me, a stranger to her.
Christ, now I was getting hard. What had gotten her riled up, I didn’t know. But it didn’t seem to matter.
Luckily, she aimed for the front door of the house rather than the side door we’d used. That gave me a few seconds to get Junior under control before I had to face her.
I heard her clomping up the front stairs right before I heard the rapid and loud knocking—more like pounding actually—on the front door.
Drew shot me a glance. “Would you like to get the door? I believe it’s for you.”
“Yeah, thanks.” I rolled my eyes at his attitude, but in reality I couldn’t be more thrilled my little hellcat was here in full outraged glory. And that she was here just for me.
Drew was a good-looking guy. I was secure enough in my masculinity to be able to admit that. He’d been a good wingman in college for me. And I for him.
But this was one woman he’d better stay away from. I was staking a claim on Heather and all of her adorably annoying quirks.
“Who is it?” I said from my sheltered spot on the other side of the thick front door.
My smile grew wider as she called back, “You know who it is, you . . . you . . . dang . . . mother clucker!”
Her attempt to cuss me out without actually using any of the words necessary had me laughing out loud.
I decided to stop torturing her from behind the door but I had to wipe my hand over my face and try to look serious before I opened the door so she wouldn’t think I was laughing at her.
“Well, hello, Heather. Did we have a play date scheduled?” I asked, using her ridiculous term while glancing down at my cell. “I didn’t see a text.”
Her face was tinged pink in the cheeks as she fumed.
She narrowed those clear blue eyes at me. “Where’s Rowdy?”
“He’s in the chicken coop.” As much as I was enjoying her redheaded temper, I still had to wonder what had set her off.
We’d parted well enough at the shelter. What had happened since then?
“He’s still alive?” she asked, her eyes glistening. Christ, was she about to cry?
“Of course, he’s still alive. Why wouldn’t he be?”
“I can’t assume anything with you. You . . . you . . . chicken murderer.”
I frowned in confusion. I’d been called a lot of things. Strickland Feed had been accused of a lot of things as well recently. But chicken murderer wasn’t one of them.
One glance told me Drew was standing off in the shadows enjoying the show. I was enjoying it less than I had been after her oddball accusation.
“What are you talking about?”
“I know what you do. What Strickland Feed does. You kill chickens.”
I was beginning to understand. I had to remember where I was and who I was talking to. In Texas, we raised animals to eat them. But in California, land of the avocado and veggie wrap, I had a feeling things were different.
“In the industry we prefer the term processing to killing, or murder, as you put it. And I don’t kill anything personally. There are dedicated facilities for that.”
“So you admit it?”
“That I raise chickens for food? Yes.” My gaze dropped to her feet. “Are those leather sandals you’re wearing?”
Her gaze shot to her own feet and her mouth opened but no sound came out.
“You eat any kind of meat or are you one of those vegetarians?” I asked.
She swallowed. “I try not to eat too much processed meat?—”
“Where do you think your meals come from? And your leather purses and shoes? Where do you think the food comes from to feed all those doggies and kitties in that shelter? Somebody has to do the unpleasant stuff so you people can enjoy the benefits.” I crossed my arms and savored my victory as she went speechless.
My satisfaction wasn’t long lived though as she swiped at her eyes.
“Just please promise me you won’t . . . process Rowdy.”
Jesus. Did she really think I would do that? I was halfway between being pissed and wounded when Drew stepped forward.
“Hi. Heather? I’m Drew Bowman. This guy’s buddy from our days back at Texas A&M. I can bring you to see Rowdy right now, if you’d like.”
She nodded, shooting me a quick glance before she said to Drew, “I’d like that.”
That figured. He gets the sweet as pie Heather after I was the one who’d wrung the piss and vinegar out of her.
Her taking me on in playful battle was fun and attractive as hell. But her outright believing I was a murdering monster who tortured small animals was unacceptable.
Fighting with her wasn’t fun anymore now that I knew how she saw me. I let her and Drew get far ahead as I took a moment to calm down.
By the time I’d followed them out to the coop, Heather was laughing.
She covered her eyes and glanced at Drew from beneath them. “Jeez. Again? How many times can he do that in a row?”
“More than I could, that’s for damn sure.” Drew grinned. “But seriously, I’m told up to thirty times a day. Not that I’ve ever stopped to count.”
“Wow.” She shook her head, letting out another short laugh.
They were talking about Rowdy’s active sex life, as the bird made it his duty to pleasure every hen in the coop.
I was jealous. Not of Rowdy. Of Drew for making Heather laugh and smile when she’d done nothing but spat accusations at me and then start to cry.
Hell, maybe I needed to let her know that Drew’s farm had become the number one supplier of chickens for Strickland Feed since I’d taken over running the operation.
She might not be so friendly with him then, once she realized he was a chicken murderer right alongside me.
Drew caught a glimpse of me, standing behind Heather. “Would you like to stay and have lunch with David and me? It’s nothing much, just red beans and rice, made with a ham hock. No chicken. I promise.” He grinned at her.
I knew what he was doing. He was trying to get Heather to stay. What I didn’t know was why. Was it because he enjoyed watching her lay into me? Or because he was interested in her for himself?
Neither was a great reason, but it didn’t matter why. As pissed as I’d been, I wasn’t ready for her to go yet. I at least wanted to part on better terms when she did leave.
“Stay.” I took a step forward. “It’ll give you more time with your bird here.”
She turned and raised her sky blue gaze to mine.
“Okay. If you’re sure.” She spun to glance at Drew.
“He’s sure,” I answered for him, getting tired of her being all nice-nice with Drew and not me.
Drew grinned. “I’ll go set up the picnic table under the tree. It’s nice and shady and you can see the coop from there so you can keep an eye on Rowdy.”
“Thank you. That would be nice. Can I help?—”
“He’s got it.” I stopped her with a hand on her shoulder and shot Drew a look.
He responded with a grin. He knew my back off expression well enough. “I got it. You two stay here and get, uh, more acquainted.”
Flag planted. Territory claimed. Other males in the area duly warned. Now all I needed was Heather to realize it.