I Want Crazy

by Codi Gary

  Two hours later, he pulled his earbuds out and checked his phone. It was almost midnight, and the lack of sleep from the night before was definitely hitting him. His eyes hurt, he couldn’t stop yawning, and he needed to stretch.

  There was a little number one on top of his text message icon. Gliding his thumb across it, he tapped on the envelope. Message from Unknown.

  He opened the message.

  Hey, it’s Jessie. I can’t sleep.

  Red couldn’t stop the shit-eating grin. She had gone home, settled in, and texted him at…he checked the time stamp…five after nine.

  She was probably already asleep.

  Doesn’t mean you can’t message her back.

  As he made coffee, he tried to come up with something clever to say, but all he managed to type was: Me neither.

  Not exactly conversation gold, so he added,

  Have you tried counting sheep?

  Before he could stop himself, he hit Send.

  He grabbed his coffee and called himself every kind of idiot, but as he sat down, his phone beeped again.

  Yeah, even turned on the TV but nothing’s on. You said you were here if I needed anything, soooo entertain me.

  He laughed out loud. And instead of typing on his computer, he sent her another text.

  I was short and fat as a kid, so your assumption that I was picked on was right…just not for my name.

  He set the phone down, turned up Spotify, and started typing.

  He’d managed to write one paragraph before he saw his phone screen light up with a message. Without taking his earbuds out, he read her message.

  Okay, we’ll go tit for tat. You say something about yourself, and I’ll share something. For instance, I was Messy Jessie for most of sixth and seventh grade because I hardly ever combed my hair and I always got dirty.

  He couldn’t stop from teasing her.

  Okay, you just said tit and dirty in the same text, and yet I’m not going to make any perverted comments. I call that growth. So what changed? How did you outgrow, Messy Jessie?

  Almost as an afterthought, he texted, Oh, and my name was Al the Sow.

  The conversation continued a few minutes later.

  First of all, the fact that you mentioned it screams immaturity.

  I went to visit my aunt and her daughters the summer after seventh grade, and I guess you can say they gave me a makeover.

  And that nickname doesn’t even rhyme! Your bullies were stupid.

  The conversation continued for hours. He told her how after his growth spurt and lifting weights, people started leaving him alone, but there had been one kid who didn’t get the message. It had taken Red tossing him into a set of lockers sophomore year for him to finally leave Red alone. He’d gotten suspended, but it had been worth it.

  She told him when she came back to school after getting her braces off and started dressing differently, suddenly people were talking to her instead of laughing at her, and boys finally asked her to dance at school dances. She had ridden out her eighth-grade year and gone to a different high school than the rest of her peers. She had just wanted to start over.

  Red fell asleep with his head on his desk and the phone clutched in his hand. When he woke up at a little after six, he’d hardly written a thing, but when he looked at the last text she sent, he didn’t care.

  Thanks for being there. I’ll text you in the morning.

  Sitting up and rubbing his eyes, he picked up his phone and connected it to his charger before typing: Morning. Wakey Wakey eggs and bakey.

  He got up to take a shower, and when he came out, the light on his phone was flashing.

  Why are you awake? I love Kill Bill as much as the next girl, but it’s fucking early.

  Laughing he tapped away. Want some breakfast?

  Chirp.

  You buying?

  Yep.

  I’ll be ready in a bit.

  Red whistled as he grabbed his keys and ball cap. Despite his total lack of sleep, he wasn’t the least bit tired, and looking forward to his day.

  Chapter Seven

  Jessie came out of the hotel twenty minutes later, and her phone chirped.

  Over here.

  She glanced to her left and saw Red’s Charger. She walked over and opened the door to find two Styrofoam containers.

  “I thought you were taking me out?”

  “I said I’m buying. Besides, this is not a date. This is work.” Red picked up the containers so she could sit down.

  She climbed in and raised an eyebrow.

  “I’m sorry, did you say work? What work?”

  “Well, we need to apply the second coat of paint, and I figured while that’s drying, we can head out of town and go to Walmart for those TVs.”

  Her mouth fell open at his sheepish grin. “Are you really helping me just so you can have an opinion on what TVs I buy?”

  “Well, no offense, but you’re a woman. Are you really going to be looking at picture quality? Plus you need surround sound…hey!”

  She had just opened the door when he caught her arm and laughed. “Where are you going?”

  “You are being a sexist dumbass, and I am leaving.” For effect, she picked up the Styrofoam container with a sniff. “And taking my food with me.”

  “Chill out. I was teasing you. There’s too much work for just you, and I thought I’d be your chauffeur, since you’re new to the area.”

  “Even if we went looking at TVs, how are you going to fit four in the back of this thing, plus the mounting kits, and I was going to look at new countertops?”

  “We’re making a pit stop at my friend’s ranch and borrowing her truck.”

  “Her?” Jessie didn’t like the edge of annoyance she felt.

  “Rand. She’s one of my best friends, and I already asked her if we could use her truck. She said fine.”

  Jessie didn’t say anything else as they drove through town headed east. When Red pulled off onto a side road and made a left into a dirt drive with a white ranch house, Jessie couldn’t help admiring the scenery. They passed under a large sign that read the Double C.

  “What do the two Cs stand for?”

  Red pulled the Charger to a stop and turned it off. “Well, her last name was Coleman, but honestly, I never asked her granddaddy.”

  Red got out, and Jessie followed suit, her gaze resting on a tall brunette standing on the front porch. She had a lean body with long legs, and her wide smile made her whole face shine with a natural beauty few women possessed.

  Jessie didn’t like her.

  She watched Red climb the stairs and wrap the brunette in a hug, kissing her temple and rubbing her belly.

  Rubbing her belly?

  As she took a few steps closer, the brunette that must be Rand smacked him and turned her gaze on Jessie. “Hey, I’m Rand Hansen.”

  “Jessie Dale.”

  Rand walked down the porch steps and met her on the bottom, sticking her hand out. Jessie took it and felt like the taller woman was sizing her up.

  “So, Red tells me you’re ruining the Watering Hole.”

  Jessie glared at Red, who threw his hands up. “I thought you were.”

  “I’m turning it into a sports bar and grill. TVs, greasy food, cold beer. Where’s the bad?”

  “Mmmm, chicken wings,” Rand hummed, reaching for her pocket. “I’m going to ask Jake to bring some home.”

  “Who’s Jake?” Jessie asked.

  “Her husband. My best friend,” Red said. “I thought you were sick?”

  “Greasy food seems to help. Kind of like with a hangover.”

  Jessie was even more confused. “What were you sick with?”

  “Hey, babe,” Rand said into the phone, holding up her hand as if to signal “one sec.”

  “Can you bring home a sack of chicken wings? And some of that buffalo ranch that Ginny makes?”

  Jessie turned her confusion on Red, and he grinned. “She’s pregnant.”

  Why Jessie was so
relieved that there was nothing going on between Red and Rand, she could only guess, but she smiled. “I see.”

  “All right, thanks. Love you.” Rand hung up with a grin and rubbed her hands together.

  “Give me your keys,” Red said.

  Jessie took back her earlier impression when Rand crossed her arms. “How do we ask for things?”

  “You are such a brat.”

  “Nope, that’s wrong.”

  Red sighed. “Rand, can I please have the keys?”

  Rand handed over the keys with a sugary sweet smile. “No scratches or dents.”

  “Please, I will treat that truck a whole lot better than you do.”

  Jessie stepped in when Rand opened her mouth. “Thank you for letting us use your truck. I appreciate it.”

  “At least she has some manners,” Rand said.

  “Jake was right. The hormones do make you meaner.”

  Before Rand could get to him, Jessie smacked him on his arm. “That’s sexist and rude.”

  Rand snapped her mouth shut, crossed her arms, and grinned. “I like you. When you get done with town, you are coming to dinner.”

  “Oh, I don’t know—”

  “Don’t worry, I’ll make something else besides chicken wings. Those are just for me.”

  Jessie laughed. “We’ve got to paint and go to town, but what time is dinner?”

  “We eat late. Eight work for you?”

  “Sounds good,” Jessie said, even as Red kept cocking his head toward the truck.

  “You have fun,” Rand said.

  Jessie grabbed their food from the car and climbed into the truck. “I like her.”

  “I figured you would,” Red muttered. “You’re both ornery as hell.”

  * * *

  They got to the Watering Hole and ate breakfast, which Red had grabbed at the Crazy Critter Café. Ginny had made him up two western-style omelets with bacon, hash browns, and a biscuit. He’d smiled when Jessie almost made it through her whole container. The woman could sure eat.

  Jessie sat back and rubbed her tummy with a sigh. “That was delicious.” Her bulky sweatshirt hid her body from view, but he still thought she looked cute with her chopstick bun and face free of makeup.

  He stuffed the last piece of biscuit in his mouth and stood up to throw away his container. When he turned around, he almost swallowed his tongue as Jessie drew her black sweatshirt over her head and her black T-shirt underneath road up to reveal a half inch of skin.

  The shirt hugged her curves and scooped low to show the tops of her breasts. Combined with the low-riding hip-huggers and the way her hair tumbled down when the sweatshirt caught the chopsticks, the whole scene reminded him of a really good beer ad.

  As she put her hair back up, she caught him watching her and asked, “You ready?”

  “Yeah.” He cleared his throat while shrugging out of his jacket. He tossed it across the bar before grabbing a roller. “Want me to start on this side?”

  “Sure.”

  They separated, and he heard the flick of the CD player being turned on. AC/DC’s “Highway to Hell” blasted over the speakers, and he heard Jessie singing along.

  “So, you’re a classic rock kind of girl?”

  “Yeah. Let me guess, country music?”

  “Yeah, but I like classic rock too.”

  “I’m not really a country fan. All that sad twangy my-woman-left-me-and-now-all-I-have-is-my-dog-and-beer irritates me.”

  He stopped painting and turned toward her. “There are some fantastic country songs that don’t have to do with dogs and beer.”

  “Name one.” The challenge was thrown over her shoulder.

  He thought about it for a minute. “Rascal Flatts’s ‘Sarah Beth.’”

  “How does it go?”

  Red blushed and turned back to painting. Suddenly, he started singing over the music. “Sarah Beth, is scared to death…”

  He sang all the lyrics and didn’t even realize that at some point, she had turned the music down to listen. When he finished, he heard her sniffling, and looked at her over his shoulder, his eyes widening.

  “Are you crying?”

  “No, shut up.” Her laughter was wet, and warmth spread through his body at her vulnerability.

  Setting the paint roller down, he started to walk over, his arms out. “Come here.”

  “No, I’m not crying. Or if I am, it’s because your singing hurt my ears. And who wants to hear about a girl dying of cancer anyways?”

  He continued advancing on her, even as she backed up. “Do you listen to Pearl Jam?”

  “Of course, it’s Eddie Vedder.”

  “Well, who wants to hear about a kid committing suicide?”

  “Touché, and yet, if you hug me, I will hurt you.”

  But it was too late. He wanted to hug her, to hold her in his arms. She started to run behind the bar, and he jumped onto a table to slide across, but the old oak couldn’t hold his weight, and he heard the snap of wood before the table tilted and he was dumped on the ground. His shoulder and arm felt the numbing pain of impact, and he hit his head on the ground so hard, he saw stars.

  He blinked, and Jessie’s concerned face hovered over him. “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Good. It’s no fun to say, ‘If you hadn’t been chasing me, this wouldn’t have happened’ if you’re really hurt.”

  He groaned. “How do you look like an angel when you’re so damn mean?”

  Her laughter made him smile, and when she put her hands down to help him up, he clasped her forearms and pulled. Her eyes widened as she fell over on top of him, and when she landed so hard she knocked the wind out of him, he conceded to himself that probably wasn’t the best idea.

  As she struggled to get up, every curve of her body rubbed against him, and he felt his groin stir. A full-fledged erection pressed against his jeans by the time she pushed up, hovering above him. Her expression turned murderous but for the twinkle of amusement in her eyes.

  “Do you feel better now? Can we get back to work?”

  This close to her, with the smell of coconut tickling his nostrils, he was tempted to pull her down for a kiss, but he didn’t want to read into whatever this was. Right now, he was enjoying her company, even when they were arguing.

  She didn’t wait for his answer, just started to get up. He climbed to his feet a second later and stared down at her.

  “Why are you looking at me like that?”

  “How am I looking at you?”

  “Honestly? Like you either want to kiss me or strangle me.”

  He laughed. “Is there one you’d prefer?”

  “If I had to choose, I think I’d rather live.”

  Well, that wasn’t terribly flattering. “Don’t worry, I wasn’t thinking of either.”

  Chapter Eight

  Jessie had a feeling she’d hurt Red’s feelings, and she hadn’t meant to. She had just been on the defensive after he’d pulled her down on top of him, because the minute she’d lifted up and over him, she’d been aware of every hard, bulging muscle under her and been intensely turned on. It would have been so easy to straddle his waist and bend over, kissing him until he rolled her onto her back and took charge.

  She had a feeling Red wouldn’t be the type of guy to take direction.

  Every time she thought about the different ways to satisfy the dull ache just being close to him caused, she talked herself out of it. He had told her himself he wasn’t interested in her like that. Besides, Jessie didn’t want to go there with Red. She liked him and had fun with him, and right now, he was the only friend she had in town, and if she was going to open her new bar without a lot of backlash, she was going to need support.

  Not that she was using him, not in the strictest sense, but it was nice to have his help.

  Setting her roller into the pan, she put up her hands. “Done.”

  He continued to roll in silence. She was tempted to get him with a little cold paint,
but they’d have to get into Rand’s truck, and she didn’t think Rand would appreciate paint on her interior.

  Coming up behind Red, she poked him right between the shoulder blades. “Hey. What bug crawled up your ass?”

  “None, just painting my side,” he said.

  She crossed her arms and waited. “You act like you’re pissed at me.”

  He didn’t say anything, and she finally had enough. “You know, if you want to kiss me, just kiss me.”

  He spun around glaring. “I do not want to kiss you.”

  “Well, that’s the way you’re acting.”

  “Or maybe it’s the fact that you find kissing me so repugnant that rankles me.”

  “Repugnant and rankles? Those are awfully fancy words for a good old country boy.”

  “Are you saying that just because I live in rural Texas that I must me stupid?”

  “No, dammit, I—”

  “Fuck this.” Red dropped his roller. “You make me feel like I’m diseased and stupid, and I’m supposed to stand around and take it? Good luck, California.”

  He started to walk away and she yelled, “Stop!”

  He paused briefly.

  “I’m sorry. I know I wear bitch well. It’s kind of my go-to when I’m feeling awkward and vulnerable, but I shouldn’t take my issues out on you.”

  He turned around and crossed his arms. “I’m listening.”

  If he thought she was going to give him intimate details about her insecurities, he could think again. “I have a hard time trusting people and their motives. It sucks, but I’ve been screwed over, so I tend to push people to the brink. Actually, I’ve been doing that since I was a kid, even to my dad. I just don’t like feeling exposed, okay?”

  Slowly, he uncrossed his arms and walked back toward her until he stood in front of her. She had to look up to meet his blue eyes, and when she did, she saw he was grinning devilishly.

  “So, secretly you think I’m sexy, but you’re too damaged to admit it?”

  His teasing helped her relax, and she snorted. “You do not need any encouragement from me to boost your ego.”

  “Admit it, you think I’m hot.”

  “Whatever. Can we go?”

  She tried to walk around him, and he started dancing and singing, “If you want my body…”