Between Hope & the Highway

by Charissa Stastny

  “Cows are cute. Don’t you have some favorites you’ve named?”

  “Nothing I can repeat to you for fear of being slapped.”

  She giggled as I leaned in to peck her cheek.

  “Are you done?” My voice sounded husky with desire.

  She pulled out of my arms. “Yep. Did you have something planned?”

  Oh, did I ever. Grabbing her hand, I reeled her into my embrace. “Thought we’d go for a drive.”

  She bit her bottom lip, making me gulp. I ached to take over that job for her.

  “Let me run inside and change.”

  “Climb in. I’ll drive you to the house.”

  After I pulled up to the door and she disappeared, Damon’s ring-tone blared.

  “Yo,” I answered.

  “Roz, you got any beer?” My friend sounded twitchy.

  I heaved a weary sigh. “What happened to the Buds Chance brought you?”

  “I think he drank them all.”

  I rolled my eyes. Damon made a habit of lying. Deciding a few beers weren’t the worst he could ask for, I said, “Give me fifteen minutes. I’ll drop by with a resupply.”

  “Thanks, man.”

  I hung up and groaned. My friend had the worst timing. Grabbing two cases of Budweisers from my hiding spot in the back of the garage, I returned to my truck and tossed them into the bed just as Liz walked out, looking sweet and kissable in a baby blue blouse and jeans.

  I whistled.

  “Oh, hush,” she laughed as she climbed into my cab.

  I wrapped an arm around her as I pulled away. Her warm body next to mine ignited so many fires it was a miracle I didn’t explode. I needed to drop off the Buds to Damon quick so I could drive somewhere dark and cozy and kiss my girl senseless.

  When I pulled up to the old homestead, I squeezed Lizzie’s shoulder. “Hang on a sec, babe. I’ll be right back.”

  Without waiting for a response, I shut my door and lugged the cases of beer into the pigsty Damon had been hiding out in. I winced as I entered. The place reeked to high heaven.

  “Damon?” I kicked the door shut behind me. “I bring you good tidings and a couple cases of Bud.”

  He staggered out of the back bedroom, smelling like a homeless person.

  “Took you long enough.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  His stained clothing told me he hadn’t changed for days. He hadn’t shaved either, though I didn’t blame him the way his hands shook. Withdrawal was one son of a biscuit. I shook my head at how I couldn’t even cuss without substituting Lizzie’s silly vernacular into mine now.

  His lips quivered. “Haven’t seen you in a while.”

  “Getting ready for calving season.” I set the Budweisers on the coffee table.

  He grabbed for the beer like it might fly away. “You’re the best, Roz.” His speech had the same tremor as his hands.

  Anxious to return to Liz, I asked, “You doing all right?”

  He burped. “Life sucks.”

  “Ain’t that the truth.”

  He looked up at me. “Take me to town, Roz. I swear I won’t do no crank. I just need a woman.”

  That’s what he always claimed. “I have to get back to the herd,” I lied.

  He wrung his fingers. “Take me with you. I gotta get out of here.”

  “Sorry, man.” I hated letting him down, but Liz waited in the truck, and I couldn’t take him to the cattle house. Dad had put Rusty with me just for that reason. He’d rat on us before I could say Bo-diddley. “I can’t. But I’ll come next week and we’ll hang out.”

  He began digging into his scalp.

  Clenching my jaw, I tried to convince myself he’d be fine. Once the alcohol took effect, he’d sleep. Then I wouldn’t need to worry about him. I walked to the door.

  “Please, Roz,” he whimpered. “Do-do-don’t leave. I’m afraid I’ll o-o-off my-myself.”

  I closed my eyes. The couple times he’d talked about killing himself in the past, he’d made good on his words and attempted just that. Luckily, I’d been close by and thwarted him.

  “Okay, fine. Let me grab my bag.”

  I reluctantly approached Liz in my truck. As I looked at her, I wished my friend was doing better. I’d so looked forward to being alone with her. I kicked at the dirt.

  “Damon’s not doing so hot. I think I better stay the night. Sorry to bail. Do you mind driving home and picking me up in the morning?”

  The sparkle in her eyes dimmed. “Why do you waste time on that loser?”

  Her words gutted me.

  “I know he was your friend, but he killed your brother. He damaged Benny. How can you stand him?”

  I stiffened. “He’s still my friend.”

  “Your friendship is one-sided. You give and give and give…and he takes and takes and takes. He’ll take you to hell if you let him.”

  “You know what?” I tossed the keys onto her lap. “I’ll get one of the other hands to pick me up in the morning. Don’t put yourself out, Miss High and Mighty.”

  I slammed the door and marched into the abandoned homestead. As I sank into the ratty couch next to my friend, his mood visibly improved as mine spiraled when I heard my truck start up and pull away. The night kept nosediving from there. Damon tanked down on beers as I stewed on the words Liz had lobbed like nuclear missiles.

  “Ready to go ta town, yeah?” Damon slurred.

  “Nah. Let’s stay here.” My hands shook as I found myself coveting the beer in his hands. Alcohol once had loosened Damon up and made him a riot to hang with; but as he opened a fourth can, I realized it didn’t agree with him the same anymore. He reminded me of his old man.

  “Why don’t you share no more?” He glared at me.

  “What kind of tick’s burrowed under your skull? I share. Freak. I brought you two whole cases of beer.”

  He threw an empty can on the floor. “No. You got that hot babe at your place you keep all ta yourself.”

  I clenched my fists. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “I remember. She was with Benny and you took off after she left ’cause you wanted her for yerself.”

  “You’re drunk.”

  “I’m not so drunk I don’t know you’re holding out on me.” He started ranting about finding Liz and showing her a true man. I knew he was just venting. I’d kept him cooped up here for over a month. Still, hearing him mouth off that way about my Lizzie set off a bomb in me. When he grew more graphic, I clutched him by his throat and shoved him into the corner of the stained couch.

  “Shut up!” I roared. “If you go near the ranch or think of touching her—even to breathe on her—I’ll break every bone in your damn body. You hear me?”

  He slithered out from under my grip. “Oh yeah? How about I stick your woman with a needle and make her mine?”

  I lost my mind at his threat. When I found it again, Damon screamed beneath me as I rained punches down on his face. When I gained control enough to stop, he scrambled on all fours into the corner and curled into a fetal position.

  Memories hit me like bricks as I recalled witnessing his father beating him through a window of his trailer in junior high. I hung my head. Mr. Hollis had been the scum of the earth…and I was exactly like him.

  “You need to get help, man. You’re jacked up and not thinking straight.” I squeezed my eyes to relieve the pressure building in my head. “I don’t know who you are anymore. You scare the hell out of me.”

  As he began to weep, I fled into the raunchy bathroom. Mold grew behind the back of the ancient toilet, and the room reeked of urine and vomit. Lowering the cracked toilet lid, I sat and buried my head in my hands. Regret battered me as I called up the past. Everything was my fault. I’d been the mastermind behind obtaining the fake I.D.’s Damon and I used our junior year. Who knew both of us would take to beer like bears to honey? We were the big men on campus, full of pomp and pride that wouldn’t allow us to admit we had a problem. Both of us bl
amed our sucky lives on our fathers until the accident revealed our dark secret. Damon was thrown into juvie. My parents threw me into a posh rehab to finish out my senior year. From there I went straight to Stanford.

  For six years, I’d kept my vow to stay sober. I owed my family that much. It’d been hard to decline at parties and bars, but I mastered my appetite and desires for my little brother’s sake. Or at least I thought I had. Tonight proved I still harbored a rabid thirst for that which had almost destroyed me.

  “My name is Rawson Law, and I’m an alcoholic,” I muttered between my fingers.

  Rehab had drilled into me the importance of acknowledging my weakness. Not until meeting Liz, had my daily battle dissipated to some degree. She’d made me laugh and feel hope again. And I repaid her by sending her away in a fit of temper.

  My shoulders slumped. Although I hated her attitude toward Damon, she had a point. I was wasting my time. He needed more than a few cases of beers twice a month. My friend needed intervention. I kneaded my forehead, wondering how I could convince Dad to unfreeze my trust fund. Until he did, I didn’t have access to enough cash to admit Damon into rehab. And Dad would never sanction helping him.

  When I returned, my friend looked up at me with his battered face and whimpered, “Sorry, man.”

  I tended to his wounds and tried to get him into bed since he was slammed. As I pulled a sleeping bag over him, his face scrunched up.

  “Thanks for not giving up on me, Roz. You’re the greatest friend ever.”

  My stomach churned with guilt, so I hurried outside to sulk on the porch. Greatest friend. Bah! I should be shot for what I did, but I was the oldest son of Bartholomew Law, pillar of the community. Damon was the son of a drunk. It was easier to lay the blame of the accident on him.

  I must have dozed. When I awoke, I was frozen solid and my back ached. Glancing at my watch, I texted Seth to see if he could pick me up. At home, I showered and headed to the dining room for breakfast. I gulped when I saw Lizzie and shame filled me. But pride wouldn’t allow me to roll over and beg forgiveness. Humility didn’t come easy to me. Taking my seat beside her, I made small talk with Mom as she flitted in and out of the kitchen. Tension stretched between us as we quietly ate.

  As I filled my mouth with cranberry muffin, Lizzie’s hand crept beneath the table to rest on my clenched fist. Startled, I turned to look at her. The vulnerability in her golden brown eyes worked like Kryptonite on me.

  I’m sorry, she mouthed.

  Muscles unclenched as I relaxed in my chair. For the last few hours, I’d despaired at the thought of ruining what we had together. Clutching her hand, my lips quivered with gratitude for my sweet, forgiving angel.

  After breakfast, I wrapped an arm around her and walked to the arena. “Sorry again for last night. Let me make it up to you. I have a few hours before I have to be back with the herd. Put me to work.”

  “Are you sure you don’t want to catch up on sleep? You look beat.”

  No wonder. The sleep I’d received at the old homestead with Damon had been anything but restful.

  “I don’t want to miss out on anymore time with you.” I brought her hand to my lips. “Again, I’m sorry.”

  She lowered her eyes. “Me too. I shouldn’t have said those things.”

  “Maybe we can slip in that kiss you owe me.”

  The blush that stained her cheeks made her stunning in the morning light. “You have a one track mind.”

  She had no idea.

  Instead of a hot make out session, she put me to work with a new gelding. I would’ve preferred she not have such a strong work ethic. When it was time to leave, I cornered her by the washing bay.

  “I have to go.”

  “Thanks for your help.”

  “My pleasure.” My gaze dropped to her lips.

  Her mouth parted slightly as her breathing hitched. Not breaking my focus, I dropped my hands to her waist and leaned in for much anticipated contact.

  A startling crash of metal against wood made us both flinch. I turned to catch Garret looking smug as he knelt to pick up a pile of bits and bridles he’d probably purposely thrown against the wall.

  Liz made to escape, but I was sick of Ferret ruining our moments.

  “Oh, no you don’t.” I grabbed her by the arm and reeled her back into my embrace. Ignoring her wide-eyed startled deer look, I leaned down and covered her mouth with mine. She felt stiff and rigid, but as my lips plied hers, she gradually relaxed.

  Garret cleared his throat behind us, which made Lizzie freeze up again. Before I allowed her to pull back, I nibbled her bottom lip and elicited an audible sigh from deep in her throat.

  “That was just a teaser.” I winked as I relinquished my hold on her. “I’ll call you tonight, babe.” Throwing a mock salute to Garret, I headed to the door, saying over my shoulder, “You should get your own girlfriend instead of drooling over mine, Buckwheat.”

  Chapter 65

  Liz

  Kissing had nothing on this. As Rawson nibbled my neck, I closed my eyes and sighed. I hadn’t seen him since our hurried kiss two weeks ago that had left me weak in the knees. But the way he savored my skin now made me weak everywhere. Benny knew the drill and valiantly pretended to ignore us as he watched the movie until the credits rolled up on screen.

  He smirked at us before waving goodnight and limping upstairs. As soon as he disappeared, I jumped to my feet. No way would I stay cuddled on the couch alone with Rawson. His bedroom was only ten feet away. Being alone with him was like taunting the devil with smoochie faces and thinking I wouldn’t get a pitchfork in the butt. It wasn’t that I didn’t trust him. Well, maybe I didn’t. He was too handsome for his own good, let alone mine.

  I heard him chuckle as he caught up to me on the basement stairs. “You in a hurry to hug your pillow?” He took my hand in the darkened stairwell.

  “Four a.m. comes fast and furious,” I muttered, trying to ignore how electricity seemed to shoot from my fingertips into my whole body as we climbed the stairs.

  “That it does.”

  I paused when we reached the landing leading to the upstairs bedrooms. “Are you heading back to the herd tonight or in the morning?”

  “Tonight.” He gifted me with a dazzling smile.

  I squeezed his fingers. “Well…drive safe.”

  “I will, beautiful.”

  He tipped my chin, and before I realized what was happening, his mouth closed over mine. I expected the type of kiss he’d given me before—soft, gentle, savoring. But his lips didn’t caress, they plundered and demanded in the sweetest agony I’d ever experienced. The only other time a man had kissed me passionately had been during my engagement to Justin. He’d swept my mouth with his tongue, and I’d pretended to like it, even though it had sort of grossed me out. I’d wondered why movies, books, and friends made such a big deal over that kind of kiss.

  Now I knew.

  Rawson’s tongue didn’t just sweep; his probed, tangled, and twined with mine in a passionate dance uniting us as one. As his hands wound up my back and into my hair, time ceased to exist. Emotions exploded and shook my entire being. My fingers found their way into his hair, playing in it as I had dreamed. He moaned into my mouth, awakening a ravenous hunger in me I hadn’t known existed. I clutched him tighter and allowed my tongue to mimic his as he deepened the kiss. It felt so incredible. So right. Why had I resisted for so long?

  When I pulled back for air, his sexy lips twitched. “Mmmm.” The deep rumble of his voice made me tremble. “Sweet dreams, my love.” He brushed the lightest of kisses across my forehead. “I know I’ll be dreaming of you.”

  I swallowed and took several breaths, literally too tongue-tied to speak.

  As he chuckled, I turned and raced up the stairs. In the safety of my room, I slumped against my door and melted into a pile of mush. Touching my tender lips, I banged my head against the door. What had I done? And why did I so badly want to scramble back down the stairs and do it ag
ain? What had happened to the careful girl who had determined not to lose her heart?

  I hid my face in my hands and groaned.

  So much for avoiding crashing on the highway of heartbreak. Instead of using caution and slowing down, I’d tripled my speed toward the cliff up ahead.

  Chapter 66

  Rawson

  “Are you ready, gorgeous?”

  Lizzie blushed and seemed to spot something intriguing on the ground. “Yep.”

  I stifled a smile. Even after almost six weeks of kissing, she still became adorably flustered in my presence. Of course, since calving season was in full swing, I could count on one hand the number of times we’d spent together. Dad kept loading me with more responsibility than one man could handle.

  Helping her into my truck, my body buzzed as I considered the evening ahead. I definitely liked kissing my girl but hoped we could push our relationship further. Climbing into my seat, I raised a skeptical brow at the way Lizzie hugged the passenger door.

  “I don’t bite…hard.”

  She giggled, but didn’t move. “You’re driving. I don’t want to distract you.”

  “Too late. You’re alive and sitting in my truck.” Just her scent distracted me, let alone that clingy white blouse she wore. I patted the middle seat. “If you don’t scoot your fine behind over, then I will…and I assure you that me driving from the middle seat will be a whole lot more distracting than if you sit there.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Oh, all right. You win this round, birthday boy.”

  I grinned and pressed the gas as she slid closer. Thank the good Lord for birthdays…and moms who coerced their husbands into giving their son the day off to celebrate his. Liz still had to work, but I’d spent the morning helping her, and besides putting up with that Florida ferret, it’d been enjoyable. Much easier than working cattle.

  Leaning over, I pecked her cheek.

  “Keep your eyes on the road. There’s a tight turn ahead.”

  “Relax, babe. I could drive this in my sleep. Probably have at one point.”

  “That’s not funny.”

  When we reached the canyon and began the descent, Liz wrung her slender hands at each hairpin curve. She became a nervous Nellie on curvy back roads. At the bottom of the ravine, she let out the breath she’d been holding as I parked by a grove of aspens.