The Country Duet

by HJ Bellus

Only half of his face is shaven, but I’m already beginning to see a brand new man. Dave even slips up a time or two, letting a smile grace his face. Rinsing the razor off, I continue shaving his face.

  “Dave, got a question for you.”

  He’s unable to talk, but I know he’s listening when he makes eye contact.

  “When you were in the hospital, I got hit with some pretty tough questions. Do you have any idea what you’d like…um, for your funeral? Do you want to be put on life support or…”

  He leans back, so the razor isn’t pressed against his face. “Going to be cremated and scattered on the farm. I’ve already paid the funeral home and have it all lined up. When it’s time to go, it’s time to go, no other bullshit.”

  “‘Kay.”

  That was a whole a lot easier than I thought it would be. I should’ve known he’d have everything lined up exactly his way.

  I clean up a little bit with the razor then wipe his face clean with a fresh towel.

  Dave stands up on his own this time. He groans out in pain, slowly walking over to the mirror and takes a long, hard look at himself. He stays quiet for long minutes.

  “Damn, I’m a good-looking man.”

  I wouldn’t expect anything different from Dave. The man whose body is failing him on a daily basis and has a mind like a fox is managing to find something positive in his life.

  I’m not sure how I would react if I were in his situation, or if I would even find the will to live and survive. But he’s doing it. He may be a grumpy old bastard with tons of issues, controlling, demanding, the list could go on forever, but he found something positive in this tenth of a second in his life. It makes bathing him, cleaning up his feces, dumping his piss bottles, and putting up with him looking over my shoulder for the past months rewarding, watching Dave find a piece of his soul.

  “You remind me of him,” he whispers.

  “Who?” I ask.

  “My son.”

  Chapter 12

  Hunter

  “Our lives are entwined with the people over the footlights. We are a part of them.”

  –June Carter Cash

  “Crooked line.”

  “Babe, not drawing balls on this page.”

  “It’s a glass of water. Just two ovals will do.”

  I flip Teale over, pinning her against the mattress. “Trying to tell me something?”

  “Nuts are sagg-ish.”

  “Need an up close?”

  The sound of her giggling serenades my room. It's a welcome noise after dealing with Dave for days on end. Teale and my time has been limited. I’m slowly learning she’s my favorite vice. It’s when her palms roam up and down my chest that I find solace, even if she’s coaxing me to draw a nut sack on an innocent glass of water.

  “No,” she manages between her giggles. “Seriously, it’s two ovals and not loop-dah-loop, saggy…”

  Her words die off when our lips meet. Our time alone has been few and far between, but we always manage to make the best of it. Teale seems to end up in my bed a good four times a week. It doesn’t matter if we are dead asleep; it’s the contact. We take what we can get.

  Our clothes begin to disappear, hands roaming, and desire igniting on contact. My fingers are tangling into the perfect shade of red. Then it happens. My fucking phone goes off.

  Teale pushes up on my chest. “Get it. It might be Dave.”

  Even though she’s never met him between our busy schedules, she’s as invested as me, if not more. It’s admirable. It makes me love her even more.

  “Not Dave, Babe.”

  “Answer it,” Teale challenges me.

  “Hey.” I put the phone to my ear, pushing down into her body with the cock drawing game long gone. In fact, the Christmas gift is resting quite nicely on the floor. I thought that little bitch would be a cock blocker, again I was wrong. It doesn’t matter if I have her four days out of the week…I need her five, six, and seven days.

  “Hunter! Man, where is your ass? Haven’t seen you since your twin left for home.” Loud bass fills the background followed by clatter and maybe a bit of tit sucking. “C’mon, we miss Burton. You’re like his spirit animal.”

  “Been busy,” I reply. Simple is best.

  A chorus of voices serenade me. “Get your ass out here.”

  I swear to God there is titty slapping in the background, like true to life nipple action. Burton would nut himself if he was here. Me? I’ve got everything I need below me.

  I know exactly what and where they’re talking about. The Farm House fraternity is out partying. The clink of the metal tailgates and the crunch of beer cans fill the background, accompanied with the nipple harmony.

  “I’m busy…”

  Before I’m able to finish my explanation, Teale rips the phone from me.

  “It’s a full moon and Friday night, see you bitches in a few.” She ends the call, smirking at me.

  “Bitches?” I ask.

  “You were just drawing nuts on a page, so that means you are a bitch.”

  “Ovals,” I correct her, then pull the sheets up over our heads.

  Our bodies meld and melt together in perfect harmony until we are both left breathless.

  Hot water pours down on us in a blink of an eye. My palms will never get enough of her skin. It’s like honey. Sticky, sweet, and addicting.

  While drying off and dressing, I get drunk on the vision of Teale. I stare at her long, lean legs slipping into her cream skinny jeans. I’ve gladly cleared out a drawer or two for her collection of seductive clothing. And Jesus, the reward is invaluable. It doesn't even matter if I’m inside her; it’s her voice, laughter, and touch.

  “Do we really have to go?” I plead and beg even though she’s fully dressed and I have a barely-there towel wrapped around my hips.

  “Hunter, seems you failed at nut drawing, so I demand some entertainment. You’re so boring.” She twirls around, stopping so her perfect ass is in view, her red hair cascading over her shoulder. Fucking perfection. “I mean, is it too much to ask for a modern day cowboy?”

  The towel wrapped snuggly around my waist tumbles to the tile, and I teach my Jeff Gordon every single rule about being a cowboy before going out. Her moans fuel each of my actions. Like I said; a vice…hook, line, and sinker.

  ***

  “Damn, the man lives.” Solid slaps to my back.

  “The bitch of Burton lives.”

  “Inherited millions yet?”

  “That old man has deep pockets, yeah?”

  “Smart asshole in and out of the classroom. Wish I was quicker on the gun to get Hendricks’s millions.”

  “Smart move, man. I’d be his bitch, too. Dollars are pennies, and they all spend the same.”

  “Bastard.”

  All of it merges into one screwed up vision. Then I realize it’s my reality. With Burton gone, so is my target. He took all the shit and grief on his broad shoulders. Now it’s just me, and I’m lost. So fucking gone, until I feel her finger squeeze between mine. It’s a pressure I’m unable to avoid.

  It sucks me in just like she did. Teale sneaks up on her toes in her fancy town boots, pecking me on the cheek. One simple kiss wipes away every single doubt. This woman grounds me in a way that should frighten me.

  “Hunter.”

  Her endless ocean of blue eyes gazes right up to me. “Yeah?”

  “You okay?”

  I raise my shoulders, really not knowing the answer. All of my good friends surround me and find it funny to give me hell. They would’ve given Dave the bird then sprayed gravel on his front steps with their trucks instead of sticking at his side. And him having millions, that’s the furthest thing from the damn truth. He may be sitting on millions, but it’s all tied up in assets. And the man does not spare a penny for anything. Hell, he still tells me all the time that I’m making good money with him. The sad reality is I’m not making a single dime between running back and forth to the hospital and nursing home and now going out t
o his place three times a week.

  “I’m good, Baby.” I squeeze her hand in mine. It makes everything disappear.

  “Make You Mine” by High Valley blares out from one of the jackass’s truck. On instinct, Teale and I intertwine into a fierce two-step. It’s intense, raw, and real. The two of us belt out the words, howling to the moon. Her fancy boots kick into my cowboy boots, but it doesn’t stop us as we both sing out, hallelujah. She saves me when she doesn’t even realize it.

  It’s an unspoken message…we were made for each other. Each on our own journey, but brought together. There are so many questions of what if or what you believe in, but when something works seamlessly together, does it really matter? Mother Nature and the element table even see eye-to-eye on rare occasions. I know this for a fact when Teale still has me in her arms dancing to a Luke Bryan song.

  Shit, I’ve trained my younger sisters to call him Puke Bryan because what country singer cuts the circulation off to his nuts with skinny jeans. Back to those lessons…life can be a bitch, but when the stars align just right, they soothe the pain.

  “Need a drink.” Teale taps my cheek.

  “Follow me.”

  The fighting, country side of me prickles up when I guide Teale back to my truck. For Christ sake, her legs aren’t even exposed. Yep, caveman. Damn straight. It’s like a country love song. I’ll beat anyone down who looks sideways at her.

  Teale pats my chest, still giggling about my nut sack drawing ability. Her laughter is adrenaline to my bloodstream. Every single touch makes loving her easy. I reach down into the cooler in the bed of my truck, grabbing a chilled bottle of water. She doesn’t flinch or hesitate like in the past. Her lips are around it, chugging down the refreshing water…easy.

  Teale pulls back, grabbing the bottle of water, then brings it to my lips. It’s an odd sensation to be taken care of. It feels good at that same time.

  It’s when her long legs wrap around my middle, locking right above my ass, I smile like an idiot. The action is followed by a chorus of catcalls, but they all fade away because I’m rooted in her.

  Her taste.

  Soft skin.

  Smell.

  I believe in the ways of the world. I was put on this world to love her.

  Chapter 13

  Hunter

  “I've always felt that if you've been blessed, you should try to help as many people as you can. I just think that's the right thing to do.” –Larry the Cable Guy

  “Hello.”

  “Is this Hunter Yates?”

  “Yes, it is.”

  From the deep accent making it nearly impossible to hear the pronunciation of my own name, I know it’s more insurance bullshit. Every single time I’ve called, it’s been the biggest run around of my life. They don’t know the answers and promise to get back to me. Then it’s a new person calling needing all the information again, starting the cycle all over.

  “I understand you’ve had some questions about Dave Hendricks’s insurance?”

  “Yeah, this is about the eighth call.” I don’t hide the frustration in my voice while pacing the car I’m working on. “He’s been billed for his recent stay at a nursing home facility in Lewiston.”

  It doesn't feel right taking time off work to deal with this shit, but the damn insurance companies don’t care.

  “Yes, it’s still processing on our end, then Medicare may pick up some of the charges as well. It all takes time.”

  “So, what is he supposed to do in the meantime with the nursing home wanting their money? When he was transferred, this was all set to go, and now there are all these hoops to jump through.”

  “We understand your frustration. Unfortunately, it’s all a process.”

  “I think I still need answers why it’s a problem now and a few weeks ago it wasn’t.”

  “I’m making notes of your concern in his case and will have a manager get back to you.”

  I slam my fist into the concrete wall, frustrated as hell. “This is fucking ridiculous.”

  “Sir,” she tries to interrupt me.

  “I’m at my wits’ end here with all this bullshit. I have two jobs and go to school. Nobody is watching out for this man and all you do is give me the fucking run around. I want answers.”

  “Your language is unacceptable. Please refrain from using it.”

  “Oh, bite my ass.”

  “Sir, I’m going to hang up now.”

  “Fucking shocking.”

  I gasp in horror to add extra emphasis, then the line goes dead. Well, that was productive. The anger inside of me rages out of control. I don't lose my shit often, but when I do, it’s something else. My phone vibrates in my hand, setting me off. I throw the fucker into the same wall I tried to destroy with a fist. Crack, snap, pop…it shatters into pieces on the floor.

  Then the trucker hat on my head pisses me off. I rip it off then proceed to stomp on the bastard just to make me feel better. It's the perfect outlet for all the rage.

  Hands wrap around me from the back, a chest I know quite well pushes into me, and then I smell her sweet scent.

  “Impressive, Hunter.”

  The tension coursing through my veins begins to simmer down.

  “I’m pissed off.”

  “Really?” She giggles. “I had no clue.”

  “Funny girl.” I turn in her arms, holding her tight to me.

  “You really used the shit out of the F-bomb. You delivered it like a damn steroid induced sailor.”

  “Sorry you heard that.” I brush the pad of my thumb over her cheek. “I don’t lose my shit like that very often.”

  “No need to be sorry.” She winks at me. “It was sexy in a Hulk kind of way.”

  I drop my forehead to hers. “Not sexy and no excuse, but this insurance shit is frustrating.”

  “Trust me, I know how irritating some processes are. It’s a bottomless black pit, and it seems you can never work your way out of it.”

  “Yeah.”

  “You have to cling on to hope and work your ass off at that. You’re a good guy, Hunter, and what you’re doing for Dave, I don’t know one single person who would take care of him the way you do.” She pauses, running her nose along my jawline. “Am I ever going to get to meet Dave?”

  Something always happens when I plan on introducing Teale to Dave.

  “Yeah, keep going,” I prompt her with a chaste kiss on her sweet, sweet lips.

  “Are you fishing for compliments, mister?”

  “Maybe. Remind me how good I am in the sheets.”

  “Incredible. Amazing. Mind-blowing. But that thing with your tongue needs a bit of practice.”

  “Oh, yeah?”

  “You need lots and lots of practice with that little ditty.”

  She continues telling me just how much training I need as I back her up into the parts room. I grab the door behind us, shut and lock it.

  “Teach me.” I smile up to her, dragging her pants down her thighs then further down her legs, being careful not to let them fall into any grease.

  I pick her up, placing her on the counter. It's the cleanest section I can find. Then I slide her panties to the side, steadying myself for the best practice of my life. Her needy scent is convincing me she was right and that I do need lots and lots of practice. Teale’s hands grip the sides of my head, tugging on my hair and urging me on.

  “Stalling is not cool.” She lets out in breathy plea.

  “Hunter.”

  Booming knocks pound on the door of the room, rattling parts on the shelf.

  “Hunter, are you in there?”

  Teale squeals but I cover her mouth quickly. I freeze, not knowing how to answer. Why, yes, sir, I’m in here and was mere seconds away from being inside your daughter.

  “Hunter?”

  “Yeah,” I manage to croak out.

  “The damn door is locked.” He rattles it from the outside.

  “Give me a second.” I back up from Teale, warning her to remain quie
t. “Got my hands full right now.”

  Not a total lie.

  “Have you seen Teale?” he hollers. “The phone has been ringing off the hook.”

  Shit, it’s lie or die time.

  I stare at Teale, searching her face for answers. She hops off the counter with no fear in her movements, then pulls up her pants.

  “I’m in here, Dad.” She unlocks the door, opening it.

  Frank’s shocked, standing before us. Cupping my junk to conceal my boner would be a bit obvious. However, Frank joining us is working magic, wilting the monster down.

  “Any reason why?” Frank asks.

  “Yes, Dad.” She throws her arms up in the air. “He was oiling my piston while cranking up his drive shaft.”

  Son of a bitch. She didn’t just say that. I was feeling guilty for a taking a call on my shift, and now I’m totally busted oiling the boss’s daughter’s piston.

  “Get back to work,” he grits out between clenched teeth.

  Teale glides right past him with no care in the world, leaving me alone with her pissed off father. I’ll deal with her later. Maybe I'll bend her over my knee and smack her perfect, plump ass. It's not the right time to be thinking of this, man.

  “Any reason your phone is shattered in my shop and your hat is stomped to the ground?” The veins in his neck throb.

  “I was dealing with Dave’s insurance. Sorry, shouldn’t have taken the call while on the clock.”

  He dips his chin, knowing all about Dave. The men around the shop, including Teale, love hearing the latest stories. Most of the time they think I’m bullshitting them with wild tales, but every single thread is honest to God true.

  “I can respect that, but you having my daughter locked in the parts room is another thing.”

  “I’m sor…”

  He cuts me off, holding a hand up. “I’m no fool. Know what you two have been up to, but not in my garage or on my time clock.”

  I drop my face, feeling like a toddler who was just caught with his hand in the cookie jar. It’s entirely accurate.

  “Teale is just getting her life back together. You’re good for her, but I don’t want to see her broken again.”