“I never knew anyone who was Indian. Is it all right to call you Indian? I guess the politically correct expression these days is Native American.”
“Indian works just fine for me. Anybody born in America is a native American as far as I’m concerned.”
“Well, then, I guess that makes me a native American, even though I’m Danish and Italian.”
“Reckon so,” he agreed.
“Do you see your parents very often?”
“I see my mother a couple times a year. I never knew my old man. He took off two days after I was born.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be,” he said with a shrug. “It was a long time ago. So, are you ready for that hot dog?”
She nodded, and then grinned when her stomach growled loudly.
“Sounds to me like you’re more than ready,” he said, taking her by the hand and pulling her to her feet. “Come on.”
He bought two corn dogs, a root beer for her, a Coke for him. After dousing their dogs with mustard, they found a vacant spot on a bench and sat down to eat.
“So, what kind of Indian are you?”
“Lakota on my mother’s side.”
“Lakota? Like Crazy Horse?”
“Yeah.”
“Wow.”
“Wow?”
“I don’t know what else to say. Do you speak the language?”
“I used to. Not sure I remember much of it now. Not many people in Norco speak Lakota.”
“No, I guess not.” She finished her hot dog and the last of her drink.
“You ready to go back?” Jake asked, tossing their trash in a nearby barrel.
“No way. You promised me cotton candy, remember?”
“Right,” he said as they walked toward the booth. “So, what’ll it be, pink or blue?”
“Blue.”
“Ah, the adventurous type, I see.”
“I must be,” she said dryly, “since I’m here with you.”
“Well, then, I’ll have to see if I can whip up an adventure or two.” He paid for the cotton candy and handed it to Ginny. “Two dollars and fifty cents,” he muttered with a shake of his head. “Two fifty for five cents worth of sugar and a lot of hot air.”
“Oh, but it tastes sooo good.” Ginny took a bite, then pulled off a piece and offered it to him.
Taking her hand in his, Jake ate the candy, then licked her fingertips.
The touch of his tongue on her skin sent a flame of heat to her very center.
From the look in his eyes, he knew exactly how it had affected her.
“Adventure,” he murmured. “What do you say we go find ourselves someplace nice and dark where we can be alone?”
“What kind of place?” Ginny asked warily.
“You’ll see.”
Leaving the rodeo grounds, Jake handed her into the cab of the truck, then pulled out of the parking lot onto the street.
Ginny felt a shiver of trepidation as Jake pulled onto the freeway, wondering if his idea of excitement was the same as hers.
She had finished the last of the cotton candy when he pulled into the parking lot of a place called the Calico Cowboy. The sign out front proclaimed that Jimmy Joe and his Tennessee Blue Grass band were performing for one night only.
The strains of a country ballad reached Ginny’s ears when Jake opened the door of the truck.
“You ever done any line dancing?” he asked as he lifted her from the cab.
“No.”
“You’ll love it,” he predicted.
As expected, the Calico Cowboy was decorated in a country motif. There were horseshoes on the wall, along with autographed pictures of country singers. She recognized Johnny Cash, Gary Alan, and Toby Keith. There were also photographs of famous movie cowboys like Roy Rogers and John Wayne. Small tables surrounded a large square dance floor. Each table was covered with a red-and-white checked cloth. A long bar ran along one wall, a couple of pool tables were located on the far side of the room; there was a mechanical bull in the back corner.
Jimmy Joe and his band occupied a raised platform at one end of the dance floor.
Ginny glanced around. Most of the women wore colorful blouses, short full skirts over ruffled petticoats, and boots. The men wore Western shirts and vests, jeans, and boots. And cowboy hats, of course.
Jake guided her toward a vacant table near the far end of the dance floor.
“What’ll you have?” he asked.
Ginny shrugged. “Just a 7-up. With a cherry in it.”
Nodding, he made his way to the bar.
Ginny watched the dancers. They formed two long lines, facing each other. She had seen line dancing on TV. The steps looked even more complicated when watching them in person.
Jake returned shortly. He handed her a tall glass of 7-up, then sat down across from her.
Ginny grinned. She had asked for a cherry in her drink. She counted at least eight.
At her inquisitive glance, Jake lifted one shoulder and let it fall. “I know the bartender.”
“An old girlfriend?” Ginny asked with a smirk.
He frowned. “How’d you know it was a girl?”
“Just a hunch.” With his dark eyes and roguish grin, Ginny was pretty sure Jake could charm the socks – and anything else - off any girl in the place.
There was a round of applause as one song ended and another began.
Jake gestured at the dance floor. “You game?”
“Those steps looks awfully complicated.”
“Naw. Nothing to it once you get the hang of it.” Rising, he held out his hand. “Come on, pretty lady.”
Ginny went reluctantly. She had never liked being the center of attention, never been comfortable trying anything new in front of a crowd. Although most people refused to believe it, she was basically very shy and introverted, always preferring to be in the background.
Jake took her to one corner of the floor and showed her the steps to something called the electric slide. Just when she was about to give up, certain she would never get the hang of it, something clicked, and she wondered why she had ever thought the steps were hard.
Dancing with Jake was exhilarating. After a few fast songs, the band took a break. Moments later, someone dropped some money into the juke box and the strains of a slow, sad country ballad filled the air.
Jake drew Ginny into his arms as the lights dimmed. Ginny had never been crazy about slow dancing. But being in Jake’s arms changed all that. His body moved tantalizingly against hers as he twirled her around the floor. His breath warmed her cheek, her hand tingled where his palm touched hers. Excitement sizzled through her every time his body brushed against hers.
Dancing with Jake wasn’t like dancing at all, she thought, dazed, it was almost like making love.
Another slow song followed the first. Resting her cheek on Jake’s chest, Ginny closed her eyes, caught up in the sensual pleasure that washed over her at his nearness. His hand was warm and firm against her back.
She was sorry when the song ended.
She looked up, surprised when he didn’t let her go.
“The music stopped,” she said, suddenly conscious of being the only couple left on the floor.
He gazed down at her, his eyes alight. “I know, but I don’t want to let you go.”
The look in his eyes, the husky timbre of his voice, sent a thrill of desire racing down her spine.
“Jake...”
He drew her into his arms again as another song spilled out of the jukebox. They dipped and swayed for a few moments before Jake murmured, “We could go to my place.”
Thinking of his houseguest, she said, “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
He grunted softly. “Probably not.”
He held her close to his side as they left the dance floor. Everything else faded into the distance. His scent surrounded her, his thigh brushed against hers, intimately suggestive. He wanted her. The look in his eye, his every move, proclaimed the f
act.
And at that moment, she wanted him, wildly, desperately.
“We could go to my place.” She couldn’t believe she had just suggested such a thing, but she offered no protest when he took her by the hand and led her out of the bar to the parking lot.
The tension inside the truck was palpable as he pulled onto the street. Ginny’s heart was racing. She had never done anything remotely like this before and couldn’t believe she was doing it now.
She began having second thoughts the minute Jake pulled up in front of the house. What was she doing? She was practically engaged to Carter. Not only that, but she had known Jake Running Horse for less than a week.
She didn’t wait for him to help her out of the truck. Hurrying to the porch, she unlocked the front door with a hand that was shaking. As much as she had wanted him only moments ago, suddenly, it just didn’t feel right.
As soon as they were inside the house, Jake drew her into his arms.
Ginny searched her mind, trying to find a way to tell him she couldn’t go through with it, though what she could say without hurting his ego or ruining the tentative friendship growing between them was beyond her.
As it turned out, she was worrying over nothing.
Jake looked down at her, his eyes narrowed. “Are you sure about this, Ginny?”
She stared up at him, wondering if he was psychic. “Have you changed your mind?” she asked hopefully.
“No way, but you don’t seem like the kind of girl who hops in the sack with a guy she just met a few days ago, and, well…I don’t want you to hate me afterwards.”
“So, you won’t be mad if we don’t, you know, do it?”
“No.” He dropped a kiss on the tip of her nose. “I won’t be mad. Painfully disappointed, but not mad.”
“Thank you, Jake.”
He kissed her brow, the tip of her nose, the top of her head. “If you change your mind later, I can be back here in five minutes.” His knuckles caressed her cheek. “Make that four.”
She smiled up at him. “That’s good to know.”
He kissed her lightly. “Good night, pretty lady.”
“Good night, Jake.”
She stood in the doorway, watching him climb into his truck, thinking what a wonderfully gallant man he was.
Rolling down the window, he waved to her, and then he was gone, leaving her alone in the house, wishing, deep down inside, that she had asked him to stay, only then remembering her earlier decision not to see him again.
Chapter 8
Ginny groaned and pulled the pillow over her head, but the noise didn’t go away. Muttering under her breath, she fought her way out of the blankets and answered the phone.
“Good morning, Gin. How are things in the country?”
She rubbed the sleep from her eyes and sat up. “Anita, do you know what time it is?”
“Ten-thirty, sleepyhead. Don’t tell me you’re still in bed? I’ve been at work for over an hour and…oh! Crikey, sugar, I forgot about the time difference. Go back to sleep.”
“No, that’s okay, I’m awake now, sort of. Is something wrong?”
“No, well, not really. You know Myrna Howard’s sofa, the one we ordered from New York?”
“The flowered chintz?”
“Yes, well…you won’t believe this, but they sent a splashy blue and gold stripe.”
Ginny was wide awake now. Myrna Howard was one of her best customers, and also one of the hardest to please. “Well, you’ll have to send it back, that’s all.”
“Shipman’s giving me a hard time about that.”
“Well, you call Mr. Shipman and tell him it’s his mistake and he’s going to have to take it back. And that he’s paying the freight. There’s no way Mrs. Howard is going to accept that sofa and I’m certainly not absorbing the loss. Shipman’s stuff is overpriced as it is.”
“If I didn’t know better, I’d think you knew this was going to happen and that’s why you left town.”
“Very funny,” Ginny said. “If Shipman gives you a bad time, you tell him to call me.”
“You’ll be home on the tenth, right?”
“Right. I’ll see you then. And don’t let old man Shipman browbeat you. Be tough.”
“Yes, boss,” Anita said, laughing. “Talk to you later.”
Ginny stared at the receiver a moment before dropping it into the cradle. Home, she thought. She was going home next week. Not so long ago, she had been eager to put this town behind her. Now she found herself strangely reluctant to leave.
And Jake Running Horse was the reason.
It seemed to be the day for phone calls. Her mother called just to say hello and make sure everything was all right. Her best friend, Mary Ethelyn, called to let her know that her prize Pomeranian had given birth to three adorable puppies and that Ginny could have the pick of the litter when she got home.
A short time later, Carter called to see how she was doing, and spent thirty minutes complaining about one of his newest clients.
Ginny was feeling depressed when they said goodbye. Something was definitely wrong in her relationship with Carter, and she was sorely afraid she knew what it was, and that its name was Jake Running Horse.
All she had to do was close her eyes to picture him in her mind - tall, lean and broad-shouldered, skin the color of warm copper, hair as black as sin, and eyes…dark blue eyes that promised sensual delights beyond imagination. Beautiful eyes that made her feel like the most desirable woman in the world.
She shook his image from her mind. She would not think of Jake. Not today, not tonight, not tomorrow.
She was sipping a cup of coffee and trying to decide if she wanted to get dressed and go shopping for a new pair of sandals or just veg out on the sofa when the phone rang again.
It was him. She knew it before she picked up the receiver.
“Hey, pretty lady.”
Butterflies fluttered in her stomach at the sound of his voice. “Hey, yourself.”
“Any chance you’d like to meet me at Wahoo’s for lunch, say around noon?”
Her first impulse was to say yes, but she tamped it down, reminding herself that she had decided not to see him again. “I’m sorry, I can’t.”
“Too early? Too late? Heck, I’m flexible, you name the time and I’ll be there.”
Why did he have to be so sweet? “I can’t today.”
“How about dinner?”
Why did he have to be so persistent? “No, I’m sorry, Jake, I’m…I’m going to be busy all day.”
He made a sound of disappointment low in his throat. “Okay, looks like I’m striking out here. Maybe we can get together tomorrow?”
“Maybe.”
“Okay, gotta go.”
“Good bye, Jake.”
He hesitated, murmured something she didn’t catch, and hung up the phone.
Ginny stared at the receiver in her hand and told herself she had done the right thing. She was sure of it. So why did she feel so darn bad?
* * * *
“Well, hell,” Jake muttered as he slipped his cell phone into his pocket. He didn’t need to get hit by a Mac truck to know that Ginny had decided not to see him again. He had heard it in the cool tone of her voice more than in her words.
It was just as well. Being with her last night, seeing her smile, hearing her laugh, had almost made him forget that he had sworn off women for good.
Muttering an oath, he went back to the brake job he had been working on. Hell, it was for the best. She was going back to Georgia next week, he wasn’t looking for a long-term relationship, so what was the point of getting to know her better?
He finished bleeding the brakes, then filled the reservoir with brake fluid.
Why had she given him the brush?
Annoyed with himself for caring, he muttered, “Stop it”, but it didn’t help.
He had never felt this way about another woman. There was something between them. Attraction. Chemistry. Good old-fashioned lust. Call it wh
atever you wanted, it was there in spades.
He swore again. He had been a fool to pursue her. He had known from the get-go that she was engaged to be engaged to Mr. Three Piece Suit. No doubt she’d marry the guy and they’d have two children - a boy first and then a girl - and live happily ever after.
Maybe he should just marry Lori Beth and give her baby a name and a home. Lori Beth was a sweet girl, easy to get along with. She wouldn’t make any demands on him. As for the baby, he didn’t see that as a problem. You couldn’t blame an innocent child because its mother made a mistake and its father was a jerk.
Before he could change his mind, he called and asked Lori Beth out to lunch.
* * * *
Ginny’s stomach was growling when she left the shoe store. Instead of going home for lunch, she decided to go over to Marie Calendar’s, which was just across the street from the movie theater.
Parking her car in the lot, she decided she didn’t feel like having lunch. She was still feeling blue after her phone call with Jake and that called for comfort food, like a piece of pie - chocolate, or maybe lemon meringue, she thought. Or maybe both! Heck, she deserved it!
The restaurant wasn’t crowded and the hostess seated her immediately. Ginny was trying to decide between a slice of chocolate silk pie, or one of those fat chocolate chip muffins she had seen in the case out front when she heard a familiar laugh that made her heart skip a beat. Looking up, she saw Jake and Lori Beth.
Ginny’s first thought was that it hadn’t taken him long to find someone else to take her place at lunch; her second was to wonder what he was doing at Marie Calendar’s when Wahoo’s seemed to be his restaurant of choice.
She quickly ducked her head behind her menu when he glanced her way. Darn, darn, darn! She looked around, frustrated by the fact that there was no way to leave the restaurant without passing Jake’s table!
It just wasn’t fair. Why did she have to run into the man wherever she went? Norco was a small town, but geez, this was getting ridiculous!
Suddenly frantic to be anywhere but there, she scrunched down in her seat. Pulling her sun glasses out of her purse, she put them on, and slid out of the booth. If she walked very quickly and kept her face turned away, maybe he wouldn’t notice her.
Loving Jake Page 7
