6. Line of Sight #2
Jackie digs in her purse for her wallet, but I stop her with my hand.
“I hope you don’t find this forward, but where I grew up, ladies don’t pay on dates.”
Jackie blinks at me as I hand the cashier my card. “This is a date?”
The boy laughs, but he’s nice enough to try and cover it up with a cough. Damn, this girl sure knows how to cut a man down at the knees. “Yes, Jackie. This is a date.” My voice is a bit rougher than I meant it.
“Oh.” She stares at me for a minute before the biggest, sexiest, most beautiful smile lights up her face. “Really?”
All the embarrassment fades in the face of the most clueless genius I’ve ever met. “Yes.” I lean down, brushing my lips across hers, savoring her gasp at the contact. “Really.”
We stare at each other, the moment broken when the cashier thrusts my credit card and our receipt with our order number on it toward me. Looking envious now instead of amused, he motions us to the side counter.
It only takes a minute for our number to be called. Jackie snags the last available booth while I fill up our drinks.
We eat in comfortable silence until I catch two guys across the room checking Jackie out as she licks the salt from the chips off her fingers.
When she leans forward to sip her drink, wrapping her full lips around the straw, I know I’m not the only guy in here sporting wood.
I chuckle at how oblivious to the attention she seems to be.
“What’s so funny?” she asks, swiping her mouth with a napkin. She glances down at her shirt as if looking for spilled food.
“I was just thinking of something my grandfather used to say.”
She uses her index finger to push up her glasses. “What’s that?”
“He liked to tell my father that he couldn’t see farther than the end of his nose.”
She nods, grabbing another chip from the bag. “Ah, from Pope’s Essay on Man.”
I blink. “Huh?”
“That saying.” She pops the chip in her mouth, chewing softly before continuing. “It derives from Alexander Pope’s Essay on Man. I think the quote is ‘Onward still he goes, Yet ne’er looks forward farther than his nose.’”
I don’t know why her brain continues to surprise me.
She told me about her two masters degrees, one in physics, the other in aeronautics and astronautics, which she’d then followed up with a PhD.
All before age twenty-nine. But every time she opens her mouth I’m astounded by her knowledge. It’s so fucking sexy.
I try unsuccessfully to adjust myself under the table. “I think Grandpa will be sorely pissed he didn’t come up with it himself, as much as he liked to throw it around.”
Jackie laughs, and the sound soothes the rough edges from my hectic day at the shop. Being with Jackie is calming. No drama, no games. Just Jackie.
“Unless your grandfather was around in the early seventeen hundreds, I don’t think he can take credit.” She smiles, reaching for another chip. “You’ll have to let him down easy next time he says it.”
“Gramps passed away. But I’m sure he’s grumbling in his grave right about now.”
“Oh.” Her hands still. “I’m sorry.”
I wave away her apology. “That’s okay. It was quite a long time ago.
He went out the way he wanted, riding horses.
Old man never did know when to quit. Still tried wrangling horses at seventy-eight.
Got thrown off a particularly angry stallion named Angus who didn’t appreciate Gramps’ attempts at breaking him in. ”
She’s silent for a bit before asking, “Did you have to put the horse down?”
“Angus? Oh hell no. Gramps would’ve hated that.” I take a long pull on my straw. “Good old Angus roamed the ranch until he passed.”
“Ranch?”
“Uh, yeah. My family… they own a ranch. Northwest of Houston.”
Shit. Dread pools in my gut. I hadn’t realized how much I’d wanted Jackie to get to know me without the family baggage and riches until now.
“Wow,” Jackie breathes, her eyes round, and the heaviness in my stomach grows. Our table shakes as she bounces her leg a mile a minute. I wait for her to put together my last name and the ranch and come to the million dollar conclusion. She’ll ask about oil rights, beef prices?—
“So you know how to ride a horse then? Rope a steer?”
I stare blankly at her, my mind not making the jump.
She blushes and the color travels down her neck. “I, uh…just wondered if you were, you know…a cowboy?”
I laugh, the release of all that dread making me feel lighter and happier than I’d thought possible. My laugh cuts off abruptly when Jackie looks down at her lap, shoulders hunching in.
“Sorry,” I manage, trying to cover my laugh with a cough.
“Sorry. It’s just that…” I struggle to find words, not wanting to bring up money or my past experiences with women.
“Here in Texas, being a cowboy isn’t such a big deal.
Your enthusiasm just threw me for a second.
” Her head stays down. Leaning over, I tilt up her chin with my hand, waiting until she meets my eyes.
“I wasn’t laughing at you, darling. Promise. ”
She nods once, but still averts her eyes as soon as I drop my hand. Damn it.
I take her hand, and she lets me, though her eyes stay down. “If your definition of a cowboy is someone who can ride a horse and rope steer, then sure, you can call me a cowboy.”
Even with her eyes averted, I see her teeth bite down on her bottom lip, and I fight a groan as my jeans tighten further.
“Really?” With her free hand, she slides her glasses up the bridge of her nose.
“Yep.” I take another sip of my cold soda, trying to cool down the surge of lust her fidgeting caused.
She looks up again, wonder in her eyes. “That is so cool,” she breathes.
And then she’s off, asking me questions about horse riding, roping, and cattle. Even asking if I wear a cowboy hat when I ride. I try to keep up with her quick mind and rapid-fire questions as best I can.
When she’s finally exhausted all her questions, her breath comes in short bursts and her bottom lip is swollen from her teeth. And it hits me.
Holy shit . Jackie’s got a thing for cowboys.
I can work with that.