Trying to scale back to our seats carrying two water bottles, a bag of kettle corn, and a plate with funnel cake wasn’t easy. It was a joint effort; half of the people sitting in the stands between me and my destination helped me get there.
“Next time, you’re up,” I said to Dax as I shoved the massive bag of kettle corn at him.
He laughed. “Where’s your lemonade?”
“Bite me,” I mumbled.
The old man laughed.
“Allie,” my mother reprimanded, laughing. “Thanks for the goodies, honey.”
I nodded, handing her the funnel cake and water bottle.
“You just missed twenty-five or so kids running around trying to pull a red ribbon off a calf’s tail,” Dax said before shoving a handful of kettle corn into his mouth.
“Why would they do that?”
“Twenty bucks,” the old man said, taking some of the kettle corn Dax offered.
“This is Bubba,” Dax said. “He knows Dad.”
“When he was your age,” Bubba said.
I risked a quick glance at my father.
“You haven’t changed,” Dad said to Bubba.
“You sure as hell have,” Bubba replied, laughing.
I stared, but Mom and Dad were laughing too. “O…kay…” I said, sitting down and opening my water bottle.
Dax frowned. “I thought that was for me.”
“I couldn’t carry an open cup and all this crap. So, no, the water is mine.” I held the bottle away from him. “Go ahead, pout, I’m not sharing.”
Dax shook his head. “Fine.”
“Wyatt’s up next,” Mom said, leaning close to me.
“What?” I asked. “They started steer wrestling?” My heart slammed into my ribcage. “You could have told me,” I snapped at Dax.
“Why?” He gave me a look. “I thought you didn’t like him.”
I heard Bubba snort, and shot the old man a glare too.
“Wyatt Holcomb’s up again,” the announcer said. “This Black Falls, Texas boy has been attracting some attention in both steer wrestling and team roping.”
“When does he sleep?” my mom asked.
I shook my head. “Isn’t he too young for this?” I asked, wanting to stop this before it started.
“He’s eighteen,” Dax explained. Wonderful.
“Need any lessons on this, sugar?” Bubba asked.
I felt sick when the steer was locked into the shoot.
“His horns have been tipped,” Bubba said. They were still long enough to put big nasty holes in a body.
“He has to get the steer to the ground?” Dax asked.
“Yep,” Bubba said. “Clear run will have the steer on his side or back, all four feet in the air.”
How a cow could suddenly look like a man-eating monster, I’m not sure—but it did. Gone was the docile, sloe-eyed animal I saw in basically every field in Black Falls. In its place stood an animal capable of seriously injuring Wyatt. My chest felt very heavy. My stomach twisted and churned.
“Allie? You okay?” my mother asked.
The chute opened and the steer shot out. Its two-foot horns looked anything but safe. And then Wyatt was flying out of the shoot, leaning far to the right on his horse. I pressed my hands between my knees again, panic rising up. Wyatt was off the horse, one arm draped around the neck of the steer while his hands gripped the animal’s horns. One firm twist and they came to a stop, the steer on his side. Wyatt was up before the steer was.
“He made that look easy,” Bubba said.
The moment Wyatt looked at me, I looked away. I had to. I had to stare at my hands, my lap, the water bottle I’d all but crushed between my knees. Anything but him.
“Allie?” my mom whispered. I turned. “Are you okay?” I nodded. “You sure?” she said, putting her hand over my knee. I nodded again. “You want to go?” she asked, so softly I knew no one else could hear her. “I didn’t think about how stressful this might be.”
“The needless endangering of human life for sport, you mean?” I asked, keeping my tone as light as possible.
She smiled, her blue eyes twinkling. “Exactly.”
She was giving me an out. We could leave. I wouldn’t have to deal with Wyatt or Levi…or Wyatt…or the way I felt around Wyatt.
“Barrel racing is next,” Dax said.
And just like that I knew I couldn’t bail on him. “I’m good,” I said. “It’s not like…what happened…had anything to do with this.”
Her eyes widened. Probably because I never brought up what happened, ever.
“No…I suppose not,” she agreed. I could tell she was working through things to say. “Funnel cake?”
I blinked at her then burst out laughing.
With Wyatt’s events over and Molly placing second, things got a lot less stressful. Bull riding was beyond me. The fact that there was an ambulance standing by said it all. But, as Bubba pointed out, there was an ambulance standing by at football games too. When I tried to argue that a single player didn’t carry around a knife or weigh a couple thousand pounds, he just stared at me.
Then it was over. “Not too late,” Dad said to Dax and me. “Nothing stupid or risky.”
Dax nodded. “Yes, sir.”
“They’ll be fine,” my mom assured him. “You have your phones?” Dax nodded.
“If Levi or Wyatt drink—”
“Dad,” Dax cut him off. “Wyatt doesn’t drink. But, yes, we’d call you for a ride.”
My dad’s expression was hard. He opened his mouth, then shut it, looking at Dax, then me.
I stared at the wide leather cuff I wore around my wrist, pretending one of the pieces of turquoise was loose just so I didn’t have to acknowledge him.
“Have a good time.” Dad’s voice was rough.
I followed Dax to the far side of the arena. Levi was there, with Austin and Dylan and a bunch of other people I didn’t know. Molly was there, all smiles for Dax. She was sitting with a group of blinged-out cowgirls.
“Ready?” Levi asked, smiling at me.
Why couldn’t I be more like Lindie? Levi was cute. He had a decent sense of humor. He was clearly into me. But I was so not into him. I nodded anyway.
“Let’s go.” He tilted his head in a this-way movement. I followed him. “What’d you think?” he asked.
I shrugged. “It was interesting.” He laughed. I glanced back. Molly and Dax were following, walking close together. I hurried to catch up to Levi, giving them some privacy.
“Your brother’s into Molly?” Levi asked.
“Looks like it,” I agreed.
“She’s kind of…well, she…” He shrugged.
“She’s what?” I asked, worried.
He lowered his voice. “She’s kind of…a tease.”
“What do you mean?” I didn’t like where this was going.
“She smiles and dolls herself up but she doesn’t date,” he said.
Meaning she’d probably turned him and all of his friends down. I liked her even more. “Looks like she’s into Dax,” I said.
He nodded. “I guess.”
Levi drove a four-door Blazer, old and so jacked-up he had added two steps to get inside. I used the handle he’d welded to the front and pulled myself up and into the front passenger seat. It was surprisingly clean on the inside, smelling like cleaner and a splash of cologne. When he turned the key, the engine roared to life.
I had no idea where we were going or what was going to happen, but Molly chattered away in the backseat.
“You should be happy,” Dax said to her.
“I am, Dax,” she replied. “I’m happy that’s over and we can enjoy tonight.”
I smiled out the window of the car, imagining the grin on my brother’s face.
“What did y’all do to celebrate wins?” Levi asked.
I shrugged. “Party. Drink ’til you threw up. Sneak in so you didn’t get grounded.” I watched him closely, waiting for his reaction.
He t
urned, looking at me. “Hell, yeah,” he said, eager.
“Not anymore,” Dax said from the backseat.
“Aw, man,” Levi argued, slowing down as we crossed a big empty field and parked. “Why not?”
“Because I killed my best friend.” I got the words out with no inflection or emotion.
“Allie…” Dax sounded like he was choking.
I opened the door, searching for the handle and steps in the dark. I lowered myself to the ground and walked to the tower of logs in the middle of a clearing surrounded by a ring of big flat rocks.
More trucks were arriving. By the time Levi had the cooler from the back of his Blazer, Austin and Dylan and a handful of others were already setting up around the fire.
Dax walked by me, but he didn’t look at me. I knew I’d pissed him off. I didn’t know why I’d said what I said. But there was no way I could take it back. I didn’t want to take it back. It was true. It was my fault Lindie was dead. But none of these people knew anything about it. None of them knew Lindie. And they never would. Because of me.
I wanted to get out of there. I didn’t want to have anything to with these people, their rodeos and bonfires. This wasn’t my life. And they would never be my friends. Not like Lindie.
Sadness and guilt clawed their way up, strangling all the other emotions I’d made room for. I don’t know how I’d let myself get there, at a party, surrounded by people wanting to have fun, to chill out. I shouldn’t be there. I had no right to be there. I didn’t want to be there. I wanted to go home.
Home. There was no going home.
“Hey.” Wyatt’s voice was soft.
I turned, staring at him. They’d started the fire, but it was too dark to make out his expression. Not that his expression mattered right now. “Can you get me out of here?” I asked.
He looked at the fire, then at me. “Are you sure?” I nodded. “Want me to take you home?” he asked.
“I don’t care where we go, Wyatt, as long as we go.” My voice shook.
He nodded. “Let’s go, then.” We headed to his truck.
“Allie?” Molly came running up. “What’s up?”
“Wyatt’s going to take me home,” I said.
“Oh…okay. I’ll get Dax.”
“No.” I put my hand on her arm. “You guys stay and have fun, okay?”
She hesitated. I couldn’t see her face clearly, but I could imagine it. She probably thought I was mental. I was acting like it.
“Tell Dax to text me and I’ll come get y’all,” Wyatt offered.
“Okay,” Molly said. “Well…night.” She walked back to the blazing fire, to Dax. She whispered something in his ear and he looked in our direction. But instead of looking mad, he smiled.
“Let me move some stuff to the back,” Wyatt said when we reached his truck.
“It’s fine.” I opened the front driver door and slid onto the bench seat. Stuff was piled up, taking up more than half of the seat. So basically I’d be in his lap…but I didn’t care.
He looked into the truck at me, the muscle in his jaw jumping, before he climbed in beside me. He started the truck and reached for the stick shift. That’s where things got interesting.
My legs were on either side of the stick shift, since there wasn’t room to put them anywhere else. When he put his hand on the stick shift, his elbow brushed against the front of my skin-tight shirt. For the first time in my life I felt like my boobs were enormous, too big to ignore. Lindie’d given me crap about how I didn’t use boobs to their advantage. I could have any guy I wanted, if I let them accidentally brush up against me—to show them I was interested. I’d called her a slut and laughed her off.
Thing is, I knew Wyatt would never accidentally rub up against me. Honestly, I was the one that jumped into his truck, pressing myself up against him, making him rub and brush against me…so he could drive. He didn’t have a choice. But I was reacting, a lot, to his driving.
He smelled crazy good. The muscle in his thigh moved, pressing against my thigh. When he shifted into second gear, it took everything I had not to turn into his side, to bury my face against his neck. Because he was right there, warm and solid and…touching me without touching me.
He shifted into high gear and lifted his hand but there was no place to put it. We were too close for him to keep it on the gear shift handle, or his arm would remain between my boobs. If he tried to rest his arm, it would be draped along my thigh, or awkwardly across his own lap. If he put his hand on the steering wheel, his elbow would be bouncing off of my chest at every turn or bump.
“Here.” I moved closer, under his arm, forcing him to drape his arm around my shoulders. But his arm lay along the back of the seat, not my shoulders. Which irritated me. I forced myself to sit ramrod straight, as far from him as I could. Which wasn’t much.
We turned, and I slid against his side, his arm wrapping around my shoulder to support me. I didn’t hesitate. I melted—against him, into him. My head fell to his shoulder and my arm rested along his thigh. Even though I knew better.
He smelled even better up close. I turned my head, my nose brushing the front of his white button-down shirt. His hand rubbed up and down my arm, the slight tremor in his touch doing something strange to me. What would he do if I turned in to him? If I…if I kissed his neck?
Heat rolled through my body, startling me, exciting me… I closed my eyes, trying to make sense of my feelings. Letting myself feel these incredible feelings.
The truck was slowing down, but I didn’t open my eyes. I didn’t want to open them and be there—the place that was supposed to be home but wasn’t. His arm moved, shifting gears again. His arm slid over me, another shockwave of intense heat. He shifted again, and the truck stopped, but I still didn’t move.
Every single inch of me was focused on his arm, draped across my thighs now…his hand resting on the outside of my thigh. His fingers brushed along the seam of my jeans. Without the roar of the engine and the whistle of the AC, the chirp of crickets and Wyatt’s out-of-control heartbeat filled the confined space of the truck cabin.
“We’re here,” Wyatt said, his voice soft.
I was trying to breathe normally, even though I was on total sensory overload. Being here was good—or I might just ask him to keep on driving. I opened my eyes. No sign of the old farmhouse. I blinked. “Where’s here?”
“Come on,” he said as he opened the truck door. I followed him. “Watch your step.” His voice was low, almost a whisper.
“Okay,” I whispered back.
Thank God he had a flashlight. It was dark. Dark-dark. Like I couldn’t see the ground in front of me dark. I took his hand when he reached back for me. It made things easier.
Then we stopped. “What?” I asked, still whispering. He flashed the beam of light in front of us.
We stood on a ledge, suspended a good fifty feet above…something. I couldn’t tell, it was black. I took a step closer, but his hand tightened around mine. He pulled me back, beside him, and turned off the flashlight.
“Look up,” he said, his deep voice echoing.
I did. “Holy shit!” I whispered.
He laughed. I smiled—which was okay since he couldn’t see me.
Millions and millions of stars. “Who knew?” I asked, awestruck.
His hand moved, his fingers sliding between mine so our hands were threaded together. I shivered.
“I come out here when I need to be reminded that there are things bigger than me,” he said.
I tried to pull my hand from his. “You brought me out here to, what, talk at me?”
“No.” His hand tightened on mine. “I brought you here to scream.”
I relaxed. “Oh.” God, Wyatt…He squeezed my hand once. “Like you’re going to chase me through the woods and chop me up scary-movie scream?”
He laughed. “No.”
No. When did I become such a dork? Crickets.
“What do you think?” he asked.
What did I
think? “You’re here,” I argued. “I…It’s too weird.”
“Why?”
“Because.”
“You don’t have to, Allie. It helps me sometimes, is all.” His thumb was moving slowly back and forth across the back of my hand.
I liked it. “It really helps?”
“Me.” His voice was soft.
Crickets.
What did I have to lose? Maybe it would help. If it didn’t, I was standing by an incredibly hot guy. I could always wrap my arms around Wyatt and…
Bad idea. Very bad idea.
“Here.” He stooped in the dark, then stood, taking my hand in his. “Throw this. It’ll help you get started.”
“A rock?” I asked, feeling the solid, cool weight of it in my hands.
“Take a deep breath, throw it, let it all out.”
“O-kay…” I had my doubts, but I sucked in a deep breath until my chest ached, threw the damn rock, and let it out. I screamed, yelled, long and broken. And when the air was gone I did it again…and again. Even when my throat was hurting and it was hard to breathe, I kept going.
When I knew I couldn’t do it anymore, Wyatt pulled me into his arms and held me, tight, against his chest. I clung to him, wrapping my arms around his waist. His hands brushed tears from my cheeks. My tears. On my cheeks.
“Sorry, Allie.” He sounded so sad. I shook my head against his chest. “Whatever happened, whatever hurt you, I’m sorry.”
I’d been standing there, kind of limp, in his arms. His words, the anguish in his voice, reached me. Deep down, I heard him.
A piercing whistle split the night, ending with a resounding, familiar pop. I looked up in time to see the shower of bright red sparks overhead.
“Looks like it’s time for the fireworks.” Wyatt didn’t move, and neither did I.
We stood there, wrapped together, in the middle of nowhere, watching the sky explode over and over. White, yellow, green. Shapes, colors, patterns.
And beneath my cheek Wyatt’s heartbeat was steady, calm.
When the final fireworks—a crescendo of color—finished I knew we’d leave. I mean, we couldn’t stay out here all night…even if I kind of wanted to…which was weird.
He led us back to the truck. It was hard to argue when he hadn’t said a word. But there was no way I’d tell him that, right now, all I wanted was to stay here, with him, wrapped up in his arms, in his truck or under the stars.
Cowboys & Kisses Page 9
