My Coyote Ugly Life

by Jessica Spoon

  “What?” he bolts up in bed.

  I sit up with him and place my hand on his arm, “Hey,” I say softly and he looks at me, a little confused for a moment before it registers where he is. “You okay?” I ask.

  “Yeah, baby. I’m fine,” he lays back down taking me with him and tucking me into his side.

  With everything that is happening in the world, it’s pretty much impossible not to hear about all of the soldiers suffering from PTSD on some level.

  I read that one of the most common effects is night terrors.

  Jesus.

  These men and women are fighting for our freedom and to protect us and, after living in hell for who knows how long, they come home only to suffer in their own version of hell most of the time.

  It breaks my heart.

  I don’t know if Grayson actually has PTSD and I don’t know how to help. I don’t feel comfortable asking him to spill his guts to me about everything he went through, but maybe… maybe I can just help him rest a bit easier by reminding him that he’s not there anymore…

  And that he doesn’t have to fight alone now…

  “You know,” I inform him, after a few minutes of silence, “I used to have these crazy dreams when I was in high school. They weren’t scary, they were just vivid. And that kind of scared me.” I burrow closer into his warm body, tightening my arm around him. “My mom would come in, because, well, she’s a super freak Mom and she would know when they would wake me. She’d make me talk them out. And… eventually they stopped.” His body becomes tense. “Does this… does this happen a lot, Chief?” I ask quietly.

  “Sometimes,” he answers, which means it happens a lot.

  I can tell he doesn’t want to admit it and probably doesn’t ever want to talk about whatever it is, but with what he shared earlier, something is plaguing him. Something he needs to get out and I know, somehow I just know, that I’m the one he needs to give it to.

  “It might help…” I whisper barely more than a breath, “If you want…” I take a deep breath and press closer to him. “I’m here. If you want, Chief,” I finish softly.

  His arm around me tightens, his other hand comes up and he pulls me further up his body so that he can see my expression with the light from outside pouring into the otherwise black room. I know he’s trying to read me. Figure me out, so I keep my face open and let him see that I honestly want to help if I can.

  His free hand comes up and his fingers trail along my lips, his eyes following the motion, causing more flutters to begin and warmth to pool in my core.

  “Chief…” I breathe out, beginning to get extremely turned on as his fingers trail down my neck.

  He wraps his hand around my neck and looks up into my eyes. From what I can tell, he looks calm and almost… resigned.

  “I served four tours in Afghanistan,” he says. I swallow hard and raise my hand up and rest it on his chest. Feeling his heart beat against my palm. “I’m sure you can imagine enough from that. Everybody deals with it, babe. It’s been a long time and it’s better. It just gets me some nights.” His voice is quiet and soft.

  My heart skips a beat and I run my hand up his chest, up his neck and up to his jaw where I cup it. I lower myself back down and rest my head on his shoulder, my hand still against his face and I begin to stroke my thumb back and forth across his stubble, loving the rough feeling of it.

  “Is it anything in particular? Or a lot of different things?” I ask, wanting him to share, but not wanting him to feel that he has to.

  “A lot of different things,” he answers, his deep voice soft.

  The minutes drag on and I know that’s as much as he wants to tell me about that, so I let it drop.

  “What did you do?” I ask.

  “What do you mean?”

  “What did you do over there?” I elaborate. “Were you like military police or something?”

  “I was Special Forces, babe,” he tells me.

  I smile against his skin. Of course he was.

  “What?” he asks.

  “What, what?” I ask back confused.

  “Why are you smiling, Ree?”

  “Because it’s not surprising,” I answer.

  “What isn’t?”

  “You being Special Forces. It doesn’t surprise me.”

  “Why’s that?” I can hear a smile in his voice.

  “You’re like super badass and sexy as shit. Of course you would have to be Special Forces. Making it that much harder for me to not like you,” I explain.

  He laughs, “It turn you on?”

  “I am a woman.” And it’s built into our DNA to go gaga over a man in uniform. It’s fundamental, for our synapses to short circuit when it comes to men in uniform.

  “Yeah…” he says, laughter in his voice, “you definitely are.”

  “Well. There ya go.”

  “Wanna see my special skills?” he asks me, laughter in his voice.

  “Does that really work?” I lean up, resting my head in my hand and propping my elbow on his shoulder.

  “Sadly, yes,” he says, completely serious.

  I roll my eyes, “Where’s your tattoo?”

  All of these men, have tattoos. Another fundamental rule for military men. Tattoos and uniforms. Christ a woman’s vagina doesn’t stand a chance against that combo.

  “On my calf,” he answers me.

  I lean over him, reaching for the light on the stand, my body pressing tighter into his, and pull the cord, flooding the room with a soft glow of light. I move back but his hands are on my waist and he tightens them to hold me in place.

  “What…?” I begin to ask and realize immediately, what happened.

  As I was reaching across him my chest went into his face.

  Fucking boobs.

  “Babe,” he says.

  “Sorry,” I begin to apologize.

  “When did you put my shirt on?”

  “What?” I ask confused, not thinking that’s where this was going at all. “Oh, um… it was, um, just lying there. And uh… rather than walk into my closet I just grabbed it. I was pretty, uh… tired,” I explain stumbling over my words like a kindergartner learning to read.

  Shit.

  “I can… change if you want,” I offer, even though I really, really don’t want to. I like having his shirt on, even though I hate what that says about me.

  His eyes raise to mine finally and his whole face softens, “No, Ree. Keep it on. Looks good on you.”

  “Oh. Um, okay,” I look away from his eyes, for some reason embarrassed. “So your… tattoo…” I trail off, hoping to change the subject.

  He kicks his leg out from under the covers and twists it slightly so the light is shining on the side of his left calf. I sit up to get a better look.

  It’s a skull with a dagger impaled from the bottom of it up through the top that is covered in a beret. There are two bow and arrows forming an ‘X’ behind it and the words “DE OPPRESSO LIBER” are inscribed above it.

  “Well. I’m totally screwed,” I mumble to myself.

  “Why’s that?” he asks. I look at him to see him smiling.

  “A tattoo that fucking sexy. Special Forces. Chief of Police. You’re a fucking panty melting trifecta.” I shake my head at him.

  He bursts out laughing, curls up and wraps his arm around me bringing me back down on the bed with him. He shoves his face in my hair and continues to laugh.

  “What?! You are!” I exclaim.

  “You’re a fucking nut,” he laughs.

  “Whatever,” I smile and press my face into his chest.

  “Go to sleep, Azaria,” he tells me and kisses my head, his fingers trailing up and down my waist under the shirt, making my belly clench in anticipation.

  I snuggle closer to him and wait for him to make a move…

  He doesn’t and before long I fall back asleep.

  ***

  “Ree.”

  I hear my name whispered and pull my pillow closer to my body.


  “Ree.”

  What the hell?

  I open my eyes, the light is shining in my patio doors and Grayson is bent over the bed, his hand on my waist.

  “What?” I ask confused. I notice he is fully dressed and look at the clock; seven forty-eight. “What are you doing up?”

  “I have to go into work.”

  “Oh.” I sit up in bed and push my hair out of my face. “Okay.”

  “Go back to sleep, it’s okay.”

  “No, I’m up,” I yawn. He sits down on the bed and moves his hand to my leg then up his shirt to my hip.

  “I’ve got to go, but I want to see you tonight,” he tells me, squeezing my hip.

  A flood of warmth travels to my core and those flutters start up in my stomach.

  I look into his eyes which are soft and staring into mine.

  I smile sleepily at him, “We’ll see.”

  “Goof,” he says then leans forward and softly brushes his lips over mine. “See you tonight, Azaria.”

  “Bye, Chief,” I whisper against his lips.

  I watch as he gets up, walks to the bedroom door, turns, smiles at me and walks out. I sit there in a daze long after I hear the door close behind him.

  I eventually get up, shower, change into a pair of white linen shorts, a faded blue loose fitting tank that has the words ‘Young Wild and Free’ scrawled across it. I slip on a pair of flip flops, grab my purse and decide to go to The Grind for coffee. Since I’m no longer avoiding Grayson.

  I walk into the café a few minutes later and take a deep breath as the coffee aroma assaults my nostrils.

  “She lives!”

  I turn and see Kota sitting at a table in the center of the café, her hands fisted in the air.

  “Indeed!” I reply and deeply bow to my audience of… one… two… ten people. “And she needs the sustenance that is coffee,” I say walking up to the counter. “Hey Mrs. Dunson.”

  “Hello, Ree,” she smiles at me.

  Susan Dunson is one of those women that ages without aging. Like my mom. She has blonde hair that she keeps at chin length in a hip style and she always dresses in kickass jeans and a nice blouse. Even while working.

  “Cinnamon latte,” I order. “Stat.”

  “Gotcha honey,” she smiles at me. “So how are things going…?”

  “Fine…” I eye her speculatively.

  “And how is Chief Cole?” she asks nonchalantly.

  “I suppose he’s fine as well.”

  “You suppose?” This was asked by Abbi Kotter, the receptionist at Mane Attraction. “He left your house not that long ago…” she trails off when I turn to give her the evil eye. “Or so we hear…” she looks down and away from me.

  I look back to the counter and see Mrs. Dunson looking expectantly at me.

  I let out a frustrated breath and turn to include the whole place, “Chief Cole had dinner with Azaria Gable and her parents last night. He spent the night. He left this morning. They are seeing each other again tonight,” I announce. Everyone starts to either smile or chuckle. Except Kota who has her head thrown back laughing so hard she seems to have trouble breathing. Good. I hope she chokes. “Now run and tell everyone. Spread the word far and wide!” I turn back to the counter, again. “Now. Can I have my coffee?” I ask Mrs. Dunson.

  “Here you go,” she tells me cheerfully. “It’s on the house. And will be every day you come in here and give us an update.”

  “Shit. You got a deal!” I tell her.

  I can take a few minutes of humiliation for a steaming cup of this amazing concoction. The Dunson’s coffee is way better than the one I used to get at the chain coffee shop near my house in Ankeny.

  I walk over and sit next to Kota, who is sitting with Albie. I hang my purse on the back of my chair and look at them.

  “What?” I ask their grinning faces.

  “I love it!” Kota shouts. I roll my eyes and take a sip of my coffee.

  “Ah… So good.”

  “Wild child Azaria Gable being tamed by the Belton Police Chief of all people!” she hollers laughing her ass off.

  “Whatever,” I mumble into my coffee.

  “Seriously, Ree,” she sobers (a little) and looks at me smiling from ear to ear, “I never thought I’d see the day. You being sucked in by a man.”

  Fuck.

  I feel anxiety start to creep in that I am, in fact, getting sucked in by a man. A man so sexy that every woman in town is drooling for details about him. A man whose smile causes goosebumps to break out across my skin and make my belly flutter like a hormonal teenager. A man who wakes with dreams from his past plaguing him and pulls me closer like I have the ability to chase them away.

  Yeah…

  I guess I am being sucked in.

  And after thinking about last night (or more accurately, early this morning) my anxiety begins to fade away leaving only a smile (and I’m sure a dreamy look) across my face.

  “Shit,” Albie says pulling me from my thoughts. I look at her to see her face serious and studying mine, “You, like, really like him, don’t you?”

  Kota completely sobers and looks at me hard, truly studying me for the first time this morning. “Shit,” she mumbles, eyes wide.

  “I learned some things last night,” I shrug. “Some game changing things.”

  “Like…” Kota prompts.

  “Like… things I’m not going to talk about in the middle of The Grind with everyone listening, waiting to spread more gossip around. Things that I don’t want everyone to know.”

  “Wow…” Albie breathes out. “This is amazing. Just by the look on your face I think I’m falling in love with him.”

  I laugh at that and ask, “So what do you guys have going on for the day?”

  “Just work,” Kota answers. “Hey I don’t have an appointment for a couple hours, come with us and I’ll give ya a trim and a color.”

  “Sounds good,” I nod. “You guys ready to go now?”

  “Yep,” Albie answers.

  “Okedoke, let’s roll.” I pick up my paper cup and my purse then we all head out the door and walk down to Mane Attraction.

  ChapterEight

  Holy Grail

  “Ouch!” I exclaim, rubbing my knee that I just slammed into my computer desk while getting up.

  I hate it when I do that.

  I spent the morning getting a trim and a color from Kota, one where she added bright red streaks down the front of my hair that I totally fell in love with; she also added a few blonde and caramel highlights.

  I chatted with everyone at the salon, and anyone that came in, about Grayson and I, trying to give as little details as possible, but acknowledging the fact that we are due to see each other tonight. They, of course, wanted more details and were sorely disappointed when I wouldn’t dish all the dirt.

  Oh, well.

  After I left, I went to Tess’s store “Flip Out” and bought a few items. I chatted with her for a bit as well about Grayson.

  Then I went to Josie’s for lunch with Kota and Malia.

  This did not go as smoothly as my morning did.

  I got there first and sat at a table near the counter. I ordered an iced tea and told Josie that Kota and Malia were coming so I would wait to get food. I talked with some of the regulars, again confirming that I would be seeing Grayson tonight.

  I just received my second glass of tea and took a sip when the door opened and in walked Ryder Jacobson.

  I, of course, ever graceful as I am, spewed it all over my table.

  Ryder was always a good looking guy and a part of me was pretty jealous of Kota in high school for landing the hottest guy in three counties, but he was really cool and we had become really good friends. So good, we were practically siblings.

  Until he broke her heart.

  Rat bastard.

  And here he is… looking sexier than ever.

  My jaw drops open and I can’t seem to close it.

  He’s wearing jeans t
hat were made to showcase how powerful his thighs are (I didn’t even know jeans could do that?), kickass black combat boots that, oddly enough, manage to turn me on; but the pièce de résistance is how beautifully his black t-shirt hugs his chest.

  Jesus…

  If I was asked to choose between Ryder and Grayson (if Ryder hadn’t proven to be the biggest of assholes ever and dated one of my best friends for four years) I would break down into a full blown anxiety attack, running and screaming, crying and shaking until I fell down from tripping on a broken chunk of sidewalk, knocking myself unconscious on the concrete; such would be the trauma of having to pick between two of the sexiest men to ever grace the planet earth.

  I continue to ogle him for a moment and… then I notice the gun and badge on his belt.

  Fucking Grayson.

  How dare he not tell me Ryder was on the force!!!

  The rational side of my brain notes that he probably has no idea that this would hold any significance to me; but that side of my brain is very small and inconsequential at the moment and does not even register with all the other emotions running through me.

  Anger.

  Heartbreak for my best friend.

  Heartbreak for losing a good friend, myself.

  Shock.

  And most of all Anger.

  Yeah, I already said that, but I’m really fucking angry.

  How dare he just stroll in here like he owns the place.

  He so does not.

  His mother does.

  And how dare he show is face in this town.

  How long has he been here?

  Does Kota know?

  Of course she knows.

  Why the fuck hasn’t she said anything!?

  Oh. My. God.

  He’s walking over to me.

  “Hey, Ree,” the rat bastard says and (Oh my God!) sits down at my table. “How have you been?” I just stare at him, my mouth still hanging open. “I hear you and Cole have big plans for the night,” he smiles. There was a time that smile would have caused a bit of a quiver (yes, I know it’s my best friend’s One Great Love but he is seriously hot) but now it just causes me to be even more angry.

  I finally close my mouth only to open it and hiss, “How dare you!”

  “What?” His smile falls and a confused look crosses his face.