Halfway To Heaven
CASH
DECEMBER
Ollie was wasted. Rightfully so. Nothing quite beat the high of a first win. She deserved to celebrate. To go buckwild. I was still so damn proud of her.
My little cowgirl. My little devil.
“Come to bed,” Ollie crooned, her words breathy and a bit slurred as she plopped onto her mattress.
She’d stripped out of her western shirt the moment she could after the competition, opting for her barely there black crop top that showed off the skeleton hands on her hips and those glorious tits.
But now she was fully trying to undress herself… and failing miserably.
A laugh rumbled out of me as I moved to the bed and helped her pull off her boots one at a time before shimmying her jeans over her hips, leaving her in the lacy red underwear beneath. Every part of me longed, no, yearned to obey her request, but not tonight.
She was too drunk. And even though it wasn’t like we hadn't hooked up a million times when we were both buzzing, she’d never been this bad.
While my sexy little she-devil could handle her alcohol better than anyone I knew, even she had her limits.
Besides, I was trying to do better. Trying to do this right.
I’d had plenty of hook ups. Plenty of flings. But Ollie wasn’t any of that.
She was…well, I don’t know if I wanted to say she was the one. Mostly because she’d tuck tail and run the minute she found that shit out. But what I felt with her wasn’t like anything I’d ever felt before. And I wasn’t in any hurry to fuck things up.
So, despite the fact that every inch of me wanted nothing more than to curl up in bed beside my pretty little devil and do wicked, sinful things with her, I was going to be a gentleman and let her sleep it off.
It was already late, and both of us had shit to do in the morning.
She could probably get out of doing chores, but I had to take Mama to the doctor’s first thing, bright and early.
Mama was cagey at best about how her treatment was going.
Normally, the only person she even breathed a word of it to was Dad, but he was busy tomorrow morning, so she’d asked me to come with her instead.
“Love you, sugar,” I murmured, tucking Ollie under the covers.
She groaned, lifting a hand up to brush against my cheek. Her mismatched stare met mine. “Don’t go.”
I pressed a soft kiss to her lips then her forehead. “I’ll be back before you can even miss me.”
Another groan echoed through the room even as she snuggled deeper into the pillows.
Brushing a piece of hair off her face, I whispered, “I’ll bring you chocolate croissants.”
Her lips quirked up, a soft hum escaping her. “Promise?”
I leaned down and kissed her once more. “Promise, sugar.”
By the time I made it to the doorway she was fast asleep. All of the tension and sass was gone. Not an ounce of her usual fire remained. The harsh lines of her face had softened and smoothed out, and in the dim light, she looked like a slumbering angel or goddess.
“Sweet dreams, Olina,” I murmured before turning off the dimmer light and closing her bedroom door.
Each step down the hall felt like trudging through wet cement.
My heart and head had stopped communicating, my heart not understanding why I was leaving its other half alone, while my mind reminded me that it was the right thing to do.
It’s not like I wasn’t going to see her tomorrow as soon as Mama’s appointment was done.
But I think at this point Ollie and I could be inseparable and it wouldn’t be enough.
Which I know she’d probably be pissed about if she ever heard me admit it, but it was true.
The bunkhouse was quiet as I tiptoed down the hall and out of the house.
There wasn’t even a breeze in the air as I closed the front door and aimed for my truck across the way.
I was half tempted to go back to her room, carry her out here, and take her home with me.
She could sleep in while I took Mama tomorrow…
or was it later this morning? Honestly, I wasn’t quite sure at this point.
I pulled my phone out as I opened my driver’s side door.
2:04 AM.
Fuck, six o’ clock’s gonna come real damn quick.
At least I wouldn’t be fighting a hangover on top of it.
I’d only had one celebratory shot at the beginning of the night.
I don’t know what it was, but something about tonight made me want to celebrate Ollie without drinking.
I honestly didn’t even need it when being with her gave me a high all of its own.
I fished my keys out of my back pocket and hovered it over the ignition, before glancing toward the bunkhouse then through my windshield.
It’s a few fuckin’ hours, Big Daddy. You’ll see her soon enough.
Ryder and Mav would be having a damn field day if they saw how tied up I was about her. Not that they didn’t give me my fair share of shit now as it was.
Blowing out a breath, I turned my truck on, the engine rumbling to life with a dull roar. It purred as I puttered down the tree-lined drive and onto the main road.
I hated nights like this. When the air was heavy and still. A thick blanket of fog rolled in by the time I made it to the main road, cloaking everything in mist. A storm must be rolling in. Great, we still needed to roof the new barn in the next few days. That’d put a damper on that…literally.
I turned the radio on, unable to stand the crushing silence, searching through the XM stations.
Not that I really cared what I listened to, but it gave me something to do.
As I settled on one of the Country stations, a wave of exhaustion hit me like a bag of bricks, leaving me half tempted to turn around and crawl into bed beside Ollie.
I’m sure she’d be happy, and so would I.
I thought of how she’d agreed to have a drawer at my place back on my birthday. A seemingly small concession, but not for her. And definitely not for me. I’d never had anyone I wanted to live with. But I could live with her. I wanted to.
I was being patient, though—not particularly one of my strong suits, but I was trying. For her.
Which said a whole damn lot.
The two-lane highway leading toward home was deserted.
Not a soul in sight. Just me and the mist. Not even the moon pierced through the dense fog.
I flipped my windshield wipers on, cringing at the god awful sound they made as they wiped the condensation off the glass.
I hated this weather, it was just wet enough to need them on, but not wet enough for them to be useful at all.
Fuck it. Only a couple more miles.
“What Was I Thinking?” by Dierks Bentley came on the radio and I couldn’t help but grin. Since the moment I met my little she-devil, she reminded me of this song.
I still couldn’t believe how well she’d done today.
Second damn place. First had only been a tenth of a second faster.
Most people rode and trained their whole damn lives to achieve what she had in just a few short months.
And to think, this all was possible because I’d seen her at Hux and Quinn’s event and been desperate to have any excuse to see her again.
Little did either of us know what that agreement between us would turn into.
And people said I was too forward. Too flirty. But it got me the girl, didn’t it?
It was so foggy I almost didn’t see the damn curve of the road, and then, like a lighthouse in the night, a bright glare shone through my windshield. Between the lights and this spitting fog I couldn’t see a fucking thing.
Closer and closer the lights came. Brighter and brighter.
Fuck, turn off your damn highbeams.
A glowing set of eyes flashed and I caught movement between my truck and the vehicle bounding down the road opposite me.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
Time seemed to still altogether for a single, paralyzing moment before descending into chaos—the screech of the other truck’s tires, the horn honking, the fiddle and banjo in the song blasting through the speakers.
Metal clashed against metal. My head cracked against something—the steering wheel maybe. Then pain—loads of fucking pain. All over. My face. My chest. My left leg. Fucking everywhere.
Darkness swooped in, claiming me, but not before a single, final image materialized in my mind.
Hair as dark as midnight. A pair of scalding mismatched eyes.
Lips curved up into a smug smirk. But as quickly as it came, the thought disintegrated, drifting away on an imaginary wind, leaving me alone in the darkness once more.
And then, finally…nothing.