One for the Road

by Lynne Marshall

  It sent Tyler over the edge. He let loose of J.T., spun around and sprung at Bear. Mid-lunge, he hit his head on one of the low hanging, thick ceiling pipes, felt excruciating pain, saw flashing white lights soon turning to cold black, all in one smooth move.

  ****

  Tyler came to and saw Dee’s face hovering over him.

  “Are you okay?” she asked.

  He winced, blinking his eyes tight, and tried to pretend none of it had happened. He felt her cool hand gently come to rest on his forehead. Fussing with a cold cloth, she wiped his eyes and hair.

  “Ouch! Dang it!” he said.

  “Can someone get some ice?” she said, unfazed by his rebuff.

  “I’ll be fine,” he lied. He moved her hand aside, felt the egg-sized knot on his forehead, and tried to sit up. The room started spinning and he crashed back down. “Shee-it.”

  Dee went to work mothering him. She mumbled things like, “I’m so sorry,” while wiping his brow. “Please forgive me,” while putting a makeshift pillow under his head. “I was drunk and didn’t realize how bitchy I sounded,” while giving him a sip of water and stroking his arms and chest.

  And the strangest thing happened. Tyler felt himself go rock solid hard. Boing!

  Would Ms. You-can’t-get-it-up notice?

  After she offered the s-word a few more times, Tyler laid there on the floor grinning like a fool as if he’d won some bet, until he broke into an ironic laugh.

  Dee smiled over him in a near push-up position. “What’s so funny, big guy?”

  She seemed either relieved or frightened by his outburst. He couldn’t tell for sure with her face partially blocked from view beneath his rapidly swelling eye. He only saw pretty little lips parted over pearly whites. Yeah, he liked her girlie mouth— a lot.

  His eyes drifted down her chin, over her neck, across her shirt to the beginning of some fine cleavage staring him right in the face. How easy would it be to reach for her breast and blame it on a dizzy spell? Naw, that would be a cheap shot. Nevertheless, he longed to find out how they’d feel.

  She moved to the side and placed an ice pack on his head sending a sudden, sharp ache to his brain. He reached for it and quite by accident brushed the side of her breast. “Excuse me, Dee,” he said lightning-quick, mostly out of habit.

  She smiled over at him, ran her hand through his hair, fussed with a tuft, and didn’t seem to mind at all he’d just felt her up.

  “I’d like to make a proposition to you,” she said. His erection grew harder, if that were possible, and he fought the urge to adjust himself. “I’ve got a proposition or two myself,” he retorted, thinking himself danged clever under the mind-numbing circumstances.

  “You and me,” she said with soft green eyes, tenderness in her voice, and the gentle touch of a sinful angel on her fingertips.

  Yeah baby, you and me. Let me prove myself to you, sugar. He looked to the side and saw her rear end up in the air while she poised over him on all fours, vixen-like. How he’d like to grab a hold of that bit of beauty. Now he definitely needed to adjust himself.

  “After tonight,” she continued, “We’re both going on the wagon. Deal?”

  He felt rock turn to clay, leaving only a memory in its place. Reality covered him like a sandstorm. He closed his eyes to guard against it and ward off the pain in his head. Regret colored the tone in his voice.

  “Deal,” he said.

  Chapter Eleven

  D’Anne’s eyes popped open when Tyler moaned in the RV bedroom. She worried over him when he rolled onto his back. She sat next to the bed in an uncomfortable chair with her legs stretched and feet resting on the edge of the mattress. Her neck hurt from a muscle crick.

  “Ouch,” she said.

  Tyler woke up and looked around as though trying to figure out where he was, then settled his gaze on D’Anne. “You okay?”

  “Fine. How about you?”

  “I feel like I’ve been whacked in the head with a lead pipe.” He came up on his elbows and scrubbed his face with one hand. “What’re you doing sittin’ in that chair?”

  “I’m making sure you don’t have a concussion and drift off into a coma.” She rubbed her face, extended both arms over her head, and fought off a yawn. “Let me see your pupils.”

  “For crying out loud, Dee, come on over and lie down.”

  “With you?”

  “I won’t bite. You gotta be nuts sittin’ in that hard chair all night.” Tyler rolled onto his side and sat on the edge of the bed.

  She had only been sitting there a couple of hours, but admittedly it felt more like an eternity. “It’s almost morning, anyway.”

  “I’m going to the bathroom, when I come back, you better be on that bed or I’ll throw you there.”

  He stood to his full height, wobbled a bit and sat back down. D’Anne jumped off the chair and helped him stand up again. She reached around his waist and felt his strong arm rest across her shoulder when she guided him to the washroom.

  “Thank you kindly,” he said, and stepped inside. Guilt had plagued D’Anne since the moment she’d uttered the dreaded words that had set the entire evening sideways. “I really am sorry, Ty,” she said through the bathroom door. “You’ve got to believe me.”

  “Slick, you wanna prove you’re sorry, you do what I say, lie down on that bed and get some sleep. Like you said, I ain’t gonna do nothin’ ’cause I cain’t. Right?”

  She cringed remembering what she’d said earlier at the club. D’Anne’s head ached from lack of sleep and her neck threatened to freeze in an awkward position. She thought about her bed and the pillow that fit her perfectly. She gave in and flopped on top of the covers. She curled into her favorite position on her left side. The only problem being she’d be facing Tyler, but it felt so good she didn’t give a damn. Within seconds, she fell into a stupor and slept.

  Tyler returned from the bathroom a little more stable on his feet. He found Dee asleep on half of the bed. He sat down gently so as not to bounce her around on the mattress.

  The first beams of early morning sunlight crept around the edges of the window shade, giving a soft silver tint to everything, like a faded picture. He could see Dee asleep, a snapshot suspended in time. He picked up the ice pack and replaced it on his aching head, then lowered himself to the pillow.

  Tyler tried to go back to sleep, but became too distracted by Dee’s sweet body lying next to him, drawing on his energy. He moved the ice pack and turned on his right side. He hadn’t had a chance to really study Dee before, without having to be sneaky. Now, he took her in, all of her, through grainy, bloodshot eyes.

  Just moments before, he’d looked in the mirror and found a frightening, wild man staring back. The whites of his eyes were roadmaps of capillaries that stung and burned like Hades. The sight of Dee felt like a soothing balm for the pain.

  She breathed shallow, silent breaths through relaxed, parted lips. Thick brown lashes rested on her cheeks. For the first time he noticed a sprinkling of freckles across her nose. He liked the oval shape of her face, and the tiny thumbprint of a cleft in her chin. He hankered to trace it with his finger.

  Tyler took a deep breath, inhaled the faint scent of D’Anne and last night’s perfume. His eyes drifted to her chest as it rose and fell. He wondered how it would feel to put his hand on her stomach and stretch his fingers across her skin. Or slide his palm along her side, and up over her ribs, until he cupped her breast. He wanted more than anything to touch her, flick his thumb across her nipple, feel it respond and tighten beneath his caress.

  I won’t bite. He remembered his promise.

  Oh, but he did want to bite. He longed to kiss her neck, starting at the curve of her shoulder and moving up to her ear. He longed to feel the soft, pliable lobe in his mouth to suck and nibble just a bit. He craved licking her to see if she tasted as good as she looked. And hell yeah, he wanted to bite her too. And he wanted her hips right on top of his…erection?

  What was it a
bout Dee that brought back his most primal desires without lifting a finger? Damn, he wished she would lift a finger for him. More than fingers, he wanted her palm wrapped around the stretched and throbbing skin of his shaft. Just a little touch of heaven was all he yearned for, a touch of Dee. Dee and her warm, slick home where he could bury himself inside.

  The tight bulge in his pants grew harder. He rolled onto his back, adjusted himself, and considered putting the icepack on his crotch. Instead, he placed it on his aching brow and groaned.

  “You okay?” her husky, sleeping voice whispered.

  “Just peachy, Slick, just peachy.” He shut his eyes tight and tried his best to ignore the woman that made his body wake up and want to live again. The only other thing that made him feel this alive was music. And right now, if he had to choose, he’d forget about music, strip Dee naked, and do the dirty dance until noon.

  He rolled away from her, and attempted to fall back to sleep.

  If only he had the choice.

  ****

  The next afternoon Professor Bear began yet another lesson for D’Anne while staring at an enclosed area of MacKenzie State Park in Lubbock. He’d invited her and she’d leapt at the chance, just to avoid Tyler. They’d walked over together from their campsite to the famous caged prairie dog display. Bear’s hat sat on the back of his head. His hands rested on his wide hips. A streak of sweat ran down his temple. He wiped it with his forearm and sniffed. “Now, these here high plains used to be home to millions of prairie dogs.” The little squirrel-sized rodents scurried in and out of what seemed like millions of holes behind the observation Plexiglas. D’Anne couldn’t suppress a wide grin. They looked playful and cute. She knew they could wreak havoc for farmers if left to the wild, but nevertheless she adored them and their silly hide-and-seek games.

  “They paved the floor of this place with cement so they cain’t dig down and escape,” he said, stomping his big boot twice for emphasis.

  A howling gust of wind swept by, almost blowing Bear’s hat off his head. His quick reflex saved him a chase. “Yep, them little doggies used to rule the high prairies of Texas.”

  D’Anne’s eyes felt grainy from lack of sleep worrying over Tyler the night before. The forceful, flatland wind blew dirt and dust, irritating her eyes even more. The wind smelled of sunshine and burnt earth. It stung her nose and made her want to seek refuge in the RV. Except that was where Tyler was, so she lingered with Bear.

  He took off his hat and scratched his forehead. “I been noticin’ something.” He cast her a concerned sideways glance. “Whenever you’re around, Tyler changes—he sort of lights up. I ain’t seen that in a long time. He’s been stomped on real good by a couple women. Makes a guy cautious.”

  A sudden tug at her heart made D’Anne want to find and hug Tyler. With the realization came a desire to kick Bear in the shins for telling her. Steeling against the brisk emotion, she said, “And your point is?”

  “He’s a good man. I’d hate to see him get put through the ringer again, is all.” He sniffed and pretended to be enthralled with the gallivanting prairie dogs.

  “Okay, I hear you.” The message was loud and clear. D’Anne decided to make her exit. “For the record, I don’t believe for one second Ty is interested in me,” she cleared her throat, “…that way.”

  The long silence made her fidget with a thread on her blouse. Perhaps it wasn’t her imagination after all. There was a real spark in Tyler’s gaze whenever he gave her the once over. Now she squirmed. “Well, I could watch these guys cavort all day, but I’m going back to the campsite. I’m tired of eating dirt.”

  She left Bear by his lonesome staring at the community of foot-high, fuzzy critters, his mouth open like a child. Sometimes D’Anne wondered what it might be like to crawl inside his trivia stuffed head. On second thought, some things were best left alone. And with her own brain off balance from the information he’d just laid on her, she left.

  She longed for a cool glass of homemade lemonade to soothe her parched throat. The only thing dragging her feet and tugging on her conscience was the inevitability of seeing the man that drove her crazy. The cowboy she seriously needed to avoid—Tyler.

  ****

  A mix of disappointment and relief met her when she discovered Tyler was nowhere to be found. Ricky-Bob lounged on the couch with PlayStation controls in his hand, attention fixated on the television screen.

  “Hey, Dee,” he said.

  D’Anne went straight to the refrigerator for the lemonade. “Where’s Tyler?”

  “He and J.T. went shopping.”

  “How have they got money to shop when I haven’t been paid in over a week?”

  Ricky-Bob flashed her a how-the-hell-should-I-know look and went back to moving his thumbs over the game controls.

  She started throwing things from the refrigerator onto the counter: potatoes, celery, and onions. “Thought I’d make potato salad, corn on the cob and hamburgers for dinner tonight. Tyler and I can have veggie burgers.”

  “Mmm, tator-salad.” Ricky-Bob’s eyes never left the TV.

  A few seconds passed with D’Anne sorting and washing vegetables before Ricky-Bob spoke. “I talked to my kids today. Told ’em I love ’em. Gina’s good. Hanging in.”

  D’Anne stopped her task and smiled to herself. Maybe her interference with the waitress the other night had driven the point home about being faithful. “That’s great, R.B.”

  “Thought you’d like that.”

  A mild ripple of affection for Ricky-Bob surprised her. What with Bear’s subtle lecture, and R.B.’s relaxed camaraderie, these guys were beginning to feel like friends and it felt good.

  A few more comfortable seconds passed with both of them intent on their deeds. Ricky-Bob spoke first. “I think Tyler’s got a thing for you, Dee. Don’t tell him I told you ’cause he’d kill me.”

  She stopped cold in her tracks. What was the deal with today?

  “Personally, I’d like to see him with a more stable woman like yourself.” Ricky-Bob tore his eyes away from the TV. “His first wife was only after his money and the second was a drunken flake. You, now you’re down to earth. And hey, Clint Black’s got his fine looking older girl Lisa. Tyler could use someone like you.”

  “Where is all of this coming from?”

  “J.T. insulted you last night. That’s why Ty hauled off and cuffed him.”

  “But J.T. bought me a drink. I thought he’d apologized.” She held a potato in her hand and peeled the skin away with a vengeance.

  “Let’s just say, he doesn’t appreciate…” Ricky-Bob stopped as though to choose the best word. “Mature women. If they ain’t less than twenty-five, they’s old to him.” He scratched his head. “Now Ty is a different story. His last lady was nearly forty.”

  D’Anne closed her eyes tight and cringed at the implications. She scraped her thumb with the peeler and drew blood. “Shit!”

  Dexter rushed to her side, looked at her with concern. She pushed her hand under the faucet and reached for soap.

  Ricky-Bob glanced over his shoulder for half a second. “You okay?”

  Choosing one of Tyler’s favorite phrases, she said, “Peachy, R.B., just peachy.”

  ****

  J.T. and Tyler turned up at the campsite an hour later wearing Buddy Holly horn-rimmed glasses. Tyler pitched a pair to both Ricky-Bob and Bear, who’d just returned from the shower house and were lounging in patio chairs shooting the breeze.

  “Would ya lookey here, an Injun wearing glasses,” Bear chortled. “I guess Three Wolves is going by the name Four Eyes now.”

  D’Anne tensed, waiting for yet another fight.

  J.T. looked like he was considering a protest. He lifted the glasses to his forehead and surprised everyone with a good-natured gripe. “Native American…dickhead.”

  She relaxed and took a breath. Maybe they could all get along. Tyler approached the picnic table and handed a pair to her.

  “I brought you a present,”
he said with a country boy smile.

  “Thanks,” she said. “But I’d rather get paid.” She put them on, thinking the only other things she needed were a fake nose and black feathery mustache.

  “It’s coming. After tomorrow night and the annual Buddy Holly Hall of Fame concert, I’ll settle our accounts. That okay with you, Slick?”

  He looked at her through glassless black horn rim frames, shades of purple and red mottled around his eye, the remains of a goose egg just above his brow. D’Anne fought back a laugh and shook her head knowing when to give up.

  “Whatever.”

  He handed her a large sack and sat down beside her.

  “What’s this?”

  “Another gift.” He sat perfectly still and watched her open the bag with a sparkle in his eyes. His moustache twitched the tiniest bit.

  D’Anne reached inside and withdrew a beautiful wide-brimmed ladies black felt cowboy hat with a label stating Tombstone. She noticed the soft, high crown tilted in a deep crease with a fine braided silver strip circling it. “It’s beautiful, Ty.” The oddest sentimental feeling crept up her spine. He’d given her a gift and looked damn happy about it. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.” He patted her knee, then quickly turned to the others. “I’ve got rehearsal time scheduled in one of the rooms at the civic center tonight. We’d better get those Buddy Holly songs down. People will be coming from all over the country for this festival. Cain’t let the Peggy Sue crowd down.”

  If she hadn’t been so ecstatic about her special gift from Tyler, she might have been insulted. Did he really think he could avoid paying her off by giving her trinkets? But she realized his gesture didn’t come easy, being short on cash was always an ego challenge for a man. Because of that, his gift meant that much more. She’d think of a way to thank him, sometime when it was just the two of them.

  ****

  D’Anne used her solitary time while the band rehearsed to call Dean, but her younger son Randy answered the phone.

  “Hi! What are you doing there?”

  “I gave up my apartment, so I’m crashing on Dean’s floor for awhile until that job I signed up for comes through.”