by Zoe Dawson
But he was just here to attend the reunion and visit with his family. His real life was in San Diego, overseas, wherever Uncle Sam wanted to send him. Reddick, it’s folks and his time here nothing but memories, most of them filled with anger, resentment, shame, so much guilt. Bitterness tightened his mouth at the renewed pain of that day his dream had come to an end. He shook it off, his throat tight from nostalgia, feeling gritty from the trip. So far no one had treated him any differently. He’d get his truck and unload his luggage, take a shower and try out some of that delicious sounding cornbread and chili. He had to wonder if Kia would still be tending bar or if her shift would be over.
Thirty minutes later he was down in the bar, and he knew he’d been kidding himself. He hadn’t just come here for the reunion or to investigate buying back Sweetwater. He had come here for her. To fulfill his curiosity, to find out if the fantasies he’d had could even come close to something…ah hell. He didn’t know why he was compelled now of all times to be here. He just was and the reunion was just an excuse.
When he showed up, the perky blonde came right over to him. “Hey there again, cowboy. A table?”
He glanced toward the bar and saw that Kia wasn’t there. Ah, damn. “Yeah, a table is fine.”
The waitress smiled. “She’ll be back any minute. She just went home to take care of her animals.”
Damn, he was that transparent. He’d have to work on his poker face. “Thank you kindly, ma’am.”
She brought him over to a table near the window, and he sat down. She handed him a menu, and he gave it back to her. “I’ll take two bowls of the cornbread and chili and a beer for now.”
“I gotcha. One of them bowls is for Kia. Well, that’s good. She rarely takes the time to eat because she works so hard.” She nodded. “Two Bowls o’ Red coming up. Excellent choice.”
She served him the beer, and he took a gulp looking out the window at the busy street. The main street was packed with people looking for a place to eat and plenty of them were coming into The Back Forty.
Several people shot him glances when they came in, and he could see the recognition in their eyes. Yeah, there it was…the look that said they remembered him and his dad. His mom had tried to get him to go out to his dad’s headstone and he’d given her some noncommittal answer. He took another sip of the beer, the bitterness flowing back after so many years. He’d thought he’d put this life firmly in the past, but being back here reminded him of everything he’d lost.
He’d saved every penny he’d made over the ten years he’d been in the service and now had a sizable sum. He’d been gung-ho to buy back his family’s ranch, but as the time passed, it got less and less urgent as he immersed himself in training hard, staying elite. All his energy had been to become something more.
He wasn’t sure he’d done that and wasn’t sure that had stemmed from his need to prove to these people, to himself that he wasn’t that coward’s son. He stuck it out, even when the going got rough.
Unlike his old man.
Even now, his dad could provoke him into that rage, a rage he’d channeled into the gumption he’d needed to kill other human beings. It was a fact of war, people died, he just made sure it was the enemy.
He didn’t question what he did now. There were things he liked—the brotherhood of his fellow men in arms was priceless and something sacred. If someone messed with one of them, they messed with all of them. But he would never love killing. To him it was a necessity.
But as long as his dad could goad him into that kind of reaction, Cowboy didn’t have control, and he knew it. And he rebelled against giving a disgraced, dead man that kind of weapon.
He happened to glance over to Millie’s Feed and Grain and a distinct memory of sitting on the tailgate of his dad’s truck as he loaded feed into the back came out of nowhere. It had been a bright, sunny day and Cowboy was all of seven or eight. He had a shiner from a fight with Red Sweeny at school over some unflattering words that had been spoken.
Pride’s a tricky thing, boy, his dad had said. On one hand, we have pride and on the other vanity.
Aren’t they the same? he’d asked.
Nope, they ain’t. He threw one of the huge feedbags into the truck, then wiped his brow. Cowboy couldn’t have wanted to be more like his dad that day, strong, tall and smart.
To be proud, boy, is to know that you are worthy of great things. But, if you go for the petty stuff, that makes you not only petty, but vain. It’s all about hard work and being the best man you can be. Think you’re worthy of these things?
I think so. I want to be good.
There you go. You can be proud of that. His father had grasped his shoulder and crouched down so he could look him in the eyes. Fighting for name calling and such is not a worthy situation. Makes you undeserving of great things, makes you vain and cowardly. Vanity and cowardliness are vices, Wes, but pride and temperance are virtues. Walk away unless you’re threatened, then defend yourself. But don’t let words and small people effect the way you handle your own honor. Am I making myself clear here?
Yessir.
Good, he’d squeezed his shoulder again. Because I think you have great potential, boy. He’d lifted him off the tailgate and set him down. Now let’s go get you a cone and we won’t mention this to your mom when we get home being it’s close to dinner.
Cowboy’s throat tightened up. But is that honorable, Dad? he’d asked.
His father had given him a sly wink and a grin. Your mom’s a fine woman, but sometimes rules can be broken every so often. She doesn’t have to know about it. So, yes, ice cream is always worth a little honor where your mom is concerned. He’d ruffled Cowboy’s hair, they had gotten ice cream and to this day, it had been their secret.
Cowboy had to work to get his head around what his father had said that day and despite what had happened, he’d taken it to heart, even though, now, it was a bitter pill to swallow.
He’d always believed his dad was an honorable man.
“So, this is a backhanded way of asking me to dinner?”
He jerked out of his musings to find Kia standing at his table with two bowls in her hands. He immediately stood up in deference to her, and she inclined her head, a soft smile turning up the corners of her mouth at his chivalry. She had delicate bones, a single silver band around her middle finger with skulls on it. Her skin had been soft when he’d clasped her hand, her palm showing that she was a working girl. She set his down in front of him and the aroma made his stomach grumble. The savory chili with chunks of beef, a helping of sour cream to the side, along with a wedge of lime and the two triangles of moist cornbread, crunchy at the corners just the way he liked it, made him want to dig right in, but his manners won out.
“I heard that you don’t eat much when you’re working hard and that won’t do. Hard work deserves reward. Now set that bowl down and get yourself something to drink. I’m sure your boss won’t mind.”
She did just that and handed him a spoon. “No, my boss is a pussycat,” she said with a grin. She turned and went to the bar which gave him too much of an opportunity to watch her.
Compact, not an ounce of wasted movement, the girl was put together with fishnet on top and on the bottom. Underneath a sexy cropped motorcycle jacket, covering the oh-so-feminine parts of her tantalizing anatomy and beneath the mesh was a black bra with rollicking horses in shades of brown and on her smooth rolling hips, a barely-there strip of brown suede that would probably be identified loosely as a skirt. But there was nothing loose about her shapely backside, nicely curved and tight, a silver and black concho belt, decorated with iron crosses nipped her waist with a pair of edgy black cowgirl boots with metal at the toe and heel. But the kicker was a piece of leather around her neck with spikes. It conjured up the image of bondage and being submissive, but there was nothing at all submissive about Kia. He suspected, to her, it was a simple choker. It, nevertheless, turned him on.
She sauntered back over after taking the bottle t
he bartender handed her. He stood and held her chair while she settled into the seat. “I know you’re itching to dig in. Have at it,” she said. He didn’t hesitate, but picked up the spoon and scooped up a heaping helping and popped it in his mouth.
“Mmhmm.” He groaned. “Just the right amount of heat. What are you waiting for?”
“I just wanted to see your reaction to my cooking.”
“Your cooking?”
“I’m a multi-faceted woman, and I wear many hats.” She smiled and took her own bite, nodded. “A good batch.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“I heard you joined the navy became a SEAL. Is that true?”
“The God’s honest.”
He expected her to ask what everyone asked. But she took a totally different tact. “Maybe some time you could teach me to shoot or throw a punch.”
He smiled because it was so unexpected. “Yeah? You got someone you want to beat up?”
“No questions about me wanting to shoot someone?”
“I’m leaving that one alone for now.” She didn’t smile, and he leaned forward. “Kia? Is there something wrong?”
“No, well, I had a break-in and it scared me.” Cowboy stiffened, inhaling abruptly as every primal instinct in him surged to life, and he automatically went into military combat mode. His sudden, intense reaction caused her eyes to widen. “That is a scary look I’d rather not have directed at me.”
“Details?” he ground out.
She hesitated, and he deepened that menacing look that had seasoned SEALs backing down and subordinates running to do as he ordered. She gulped and her gaze hardened. “I’m going to tell you, but not because you’re getting all hot and alpha bothered.”
“Kia, what happened?”
“I was in the shower at the time and completely unprepared for the intended violence. I didn’t like that either. It’s not great to be exposed to someone who wants to do you harm, but even worse when you feel helpless.”
“Do you know who this son of a bitch is? I can go have a talk with him.”
She jutted her chin out. “I don’t.” She shook her head. “I also don’t expect you to beat the shit out of him.”
Terrorizing a woman was at the top of his “Beat the Shit Outta” list and the fact that Kia had to endure that kind of fear made him a little crazy. “That’s just a perk,” he growled.
Her features softened, and she reached out and touched his hand in a neutral way, but he felt it all the way down to his groin. It also affected him that she was trying to soothe him when she’d been the one frightened. “The deputies say it was most likely a vagrant.”
“Still scary.” She nodded, the look in her eyes breaking his heart. “The paper on the bar? The one with the ads for dogs circled. You buy yourself a dog?”
“I didn’t exactly buy him, he was a stray, but I did get a guard dog, German Shepard/Pitbull mix.”
“Interesting combination. What other animals are you feeding?”
“Three horses and one ornery, untrusting cat. He came with the dog.”
“As in a pair?”
“Yeah, they’re inseparable, and I didn’t have the heart to be the one to come between them. Triton is wonderful, well-trained and I already love him, but BFA—”
“BFA?”
“Ah, short for Brute Force Attack. It’s a hacker term.”
He chuckled. “Go on.”
“He’s impossible, and I don’t get it because animals usually love me.”
He bet she got a lot of attention. He’d like to give her his, but he was stymied by the distance and the fact that he just wasn’t keen on getting involved with a woman in his home town when he disliked even being here, the memories crowding around him like tortuous ghosts. Everywhere he looked, he saw his dad, their life together, the promise that was long gone.
But she was so damn delectable. She leaned even closer over the table, her voice softly tender, her gaze darkening with concern—her breasts pushing toward the overfill maximum of that lively bra. She’d pulled all that silky hair into a ponytail, but as she spoke, an errant strand slipped free and fell in a silken purple curve to her chin.
Something inside Cowboy turned over, and it was all he could do not to lean across the table and take her mouth with his, to slide his fingers up into the violet and ebony silk of her hair and bend her into his kiss. He wondered if there was a name for this kind of reaction to a woman. Obsession might cover it. Horny certainly did. When she looked at him all starry-eyed and tenderhearted, like she wanted to take care of him instead, reassure him that she was okay when she wasn’t, he wanted to make his fantasies his reality and take that second chance.
“I’m sure he’ll come around, darlin’. He is a male and you do have some charm.”
Telling himself to slow down, way down, he stayed put on his side of the table and did no more than hold her gaze. He did have a point he was trying to make, and maybe he better make it.
“If you ever need me to “talk” to anyone ever, all you have to do is ask me.”
She gulped again, but this time it wasn’t about his scary look at all, and he wasn’t sure if he was making the smartest decision by coming here.
A man caught his attention in the dim light and the crowd. His hackles went up, his gut tightening. He couldn’t quite make out the guy’s face, but when he concentrated, he rose and threw some money on the table and even though Cowboy tracked him toward the door, he got lost in the exiting crowd.
Kia looked over her shoulder, but there was nothing to see. When she looked back at him he just shook his head. “I should get back to work.” He went to reach for his wallet, and Kia held up her hand. “No, it’s on the house.”
When he went to protest, her mouth firmed. “Wes, it’s my treat, and it’s wonderful seeing you after all these years.” She rose and stepped back. “Stay and have whatever you like on me.”
Whatever he liked on her? He liked to be on her, all over her. She walked to the bar and lifted the hinged partition slipping through. It was really getting crowded and when the music sounded from the loud speakers, people got up to dance.
He watched them twirl around, his two-stepping pretty rusty. In fact, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d danced.
Making a decision, he rose and threaded his way through the patrons now crowding the place. It seemed that the restaurant was closed and the bar was now open. He leaned across waiting for Kia’s attention from the customers lined up for orders. When she spied him, she smiled and came over. “You need a refill?”
“No, a dance. Any chance your boss will give you a break?”
She gave him that secret smile again and nodded. She walked to the end of the bar and called into the kitchen. A young guy answered and took over. She came around, and he offered her his hand. “I’m a little rusty,” he confessed.
She giggled and said, “It’ll come back to you like riding a bike.”
He walked her out to the dance floor and joined in, the quick-quick, slow-slow of the two-step was like slipping into a broken-in pair of shoes that he hadn’t worn in a while. Second nature to a cowboy born and bred.
She followed his lead, and he took a chance, twirling her, getting rewarded with her soft laughter. “See, I told you.”
After the song finished, the music went to something slow and sweet. Before Cowboy could even think about letting her go, he swept her up against him, the slow song giving him a reason to pull her close. Were second chances possible? Did he miss his window with this woman a long time ago? Was he fooling himself into thinking that he could seduce her into his bed and then disappear for another ten years?
The loneliness pressed in on him from so many deployments and not enough of a personal life. Had he been waiting for this? He had to take everything into consideration, especially Kia’s feelings in the matter. He wasn’t the kind of guy to keep mum about his intentions and ghost out of a woman’s life. Serving his country made personal relationships complicated and h
is history with this town made it even doubly so, regardless of the distance.
The song ended and he stepped back, suddenly wary of his own ability to keep this simple. With Kia, simple didn’t fit.
She felt his withdrawal and blinked a couple of times. “Break time is over,” she murmured and left the dance floor. He caught her arm and said, “What time do you close?”
“Usually about one-thirty, but I have to cash out and clean up, so realistically not until two.” There was a hopeful look on her face, and he couldn’t shake the feeling that he needed to stick close to her. It was just a nebulous feeling his gut kept broadcasting. He wasn’t sure if his instincts were getting mixed up with his desire. He hated like hell to destroy her expectation.
“I’ll walk you to your car.”
She shook her head. “That’s not necessary. It’s just in the back lot. I’ll be fine.”
“I insist.”
“That’s terribly late and very noble of you, but I can make it from the bar to my car all by myself.”
“Two it is,” he said firmly.
She patted his arm. “Good night, Wes.”
I’ll walk you to your car about summed it up. Getting close to that man had made her go stupid girl crush again when he was just being polite. Maybe he was reacting to her story about being attacked. Whatever it was, she was fooling herself into thinking that a man like Wes McGraw would actually think getting involved with her was a good idea. After all, they lived hundreds of miles apart and he was a Navy SEAL which meant he was gone a lot of the time. She lived here in Reddick and him in San Diego. Then there were these world-changing, axis-tipping secrets she’d kept from him. She had no idea how he would feel once they were out. Did she actually think he’d just take it in stride? Not really. It was best to just keep her distance, too. If only her silly heart could get the message. It was again no contest, stupid girl crush four/Kia still such a big fat zero.
