Date.
left her wondering whether he’d intended that all along or if she’d given him the idea. Either way, her heart had raced and she’d had butterflies. Even now, thinking of it, she still got fluttery inside.
She was going on a date with Dallas Miller, her heartthrob. As she’d fantasized about it for the next week, she known one thing: even though she’d rejected Joel’s post-Prom plans—and thus refused to go with him at all—if Dallas wanted to do “it,” she would. Who better to be her first? Besides, she’d be a high school graduate. It was time for her to give up that V-card.
So she fed her dad a story about spending the night at her bestie’s house, dressed in her favorite, most sparkly Miss Me shorts, a tank with cute leather laces, and the new boots she had thanks to Dallas, and she went. His parents were off at some music festival, so he’d invited most of the senior class to their ranch.
The party didn’t disappoint, and neither did Dallas. He held her hand from the minute she got there, mingling past groups of kids, and, sitting close on the tailgate of his truck as the bonfire flickered on faces across from them, he’d put his arm around her shoulders.
Her heart had skipped a beat when he asked if she wanted to go for a walk down by the river.
“Sure,” she’d breathed. Or maybe she’d only thought it, but she still remembered those dark-as-night eyes of his staring back into hers as Say Something came on the portable speaker. The song they’d danced to at Prom—this was meant to be.
Once they’d been out of sight of the crowd, he’d stopped behind a tree and pulled her close. Her heart probably hadn’t beat since they’d left the tailgate; she felt dizzy from not breathing. His lips were warm, strong, determined. He tasted like Pepsi, and a little Jim Beam or whatever the guys had been spiking their drinks with. She leaned into him for support, loved the feel of him, pressed closer. Warm, strong hands cupped the sides of her face and he sucked in a deep breath.
“Whew!” He let the breath out and in the moonlight she saw him catch his upper lip between his teeth.
She liked that he seemed as overwhelmed as she felt.
Music drifted from the party through the woods, and while he kept staring at her, Lonestar’s Amazed started playing.
She loved that song. “Somebody’ll be changing the music in a second,” she guessed.
“No, they won’t. It’s on Bluetooth from my phone, locked in my truck.”
“Oh.” Had he known that song would be on right after the one from Prom?
He grinned down at her. “The playlist is called For a Hot Cowgirl.”
God, was he smooth! “I saw one of those last summer at the state fair.”
As he looked away at the moon, his Adam’s apple bobbed. “You hear about that new restaurant on the moon?” he asked in his joke-voice. “The food’s okay but there’s just no atmosphere.”
“God, what a dad-joke.” But she couldn’t hold back a laugh.
“Your smile is so pretty.” He went all serious, his eyes wide and then closed when he kissed her again, this time longer, deeper, his tongue warm on hers until he paused again, his forehead against hers. “Tasty, too.”
Ha. Tasty smile. What a goofball thing to say. She loved it.
“Is it working?” he asked. “The playlist? You feelin’ all seduced by my mad music-selecting skills?”
“Crap. I thought I was doing the seducing.”
Another bout of kissing and his hands slid down to her butt, pulling her tight into him. “You just fit,” he whispered, barely loud enough over the thundering in her ears.
She couldn’t answer, didn’t want to. His mouth on hers. His everything on hers, was all she wanted. A sound came from her throat—moan? Growl?
He shivered against her. “Jinx.” Against her neck, he breathed, “I want you.”
“Have me.” She didn’t think twice; didn’t need to. He was what she’d been waiting for.
They’d hurried to what he called “the guest house,” an old but clean single-wide trailer his parents had lived in when they were first married, before his grandparents died.
Though she’d expected a teenage guy to be fast and not so skilled, he’d taken a long time building her up. He’d made love to her. When he first touched her there, heat arced all through her, and when she first touched him, the sound of his breath catching sent that same needy heat rolling over her in waves. Wearing a condom he’d grabbed from the nightstand, he’d slid inside her, caught, pushed past the edge of heat into pain she’d heard of but hadn’t expected. She shuddered, bit her lip, hoped he wouldn’t see the tears her eyes brimmed with. Maybe if she kept them closed…
“Jinx? What’s… What the… Fuck.” He pulled back out, but it still stung. “You’re not a virgin.” Not anymore. “You told me you weren’t—”
“Not what I said.” Sure, she’d misled him at Prom when they’d talked about Joel. She hadn’t wanted to own the tired old story of the virgin unwilling to give it up to her boyfriend because she didn’t feel he was the one.
“Jesus, Jinx. I wouldn’t have—”
Yeah, she’d been afraid he wouldn’t. That’s why she hadn’t told him. Too many guys were afraid of virgins. “It’s okay. Just…keep going.” She’d dug her heels into his butt, urged him back to her. “Please.”
“Sorry I hurt you.”
“You didn’t. It’s just how it is for girls.” She pulled him down to her again, afraid if they waited much longer she’d hurt too much and not want him back inside her.
He finished, but she could feel his reluctance, his body stiff and sorry. She waited until he fell asleep and then she tiptoed from the room, dressed in the dark living room and left. A few partiers were sleeping in tents around coals of the bonfire when she snuck past to her car and drove away.
The next day, she heard people were saying she and Dallas had hooked up, but he swore they’d only “hung out,” and she hated it.
He didn’t call, he didn’t text. But neither did she. She figured he must be pissed at her for lying about her experience—or lack of it. She had misled him, and she felt like an ass for it. Next time they were at the same rodeo, she avoided him. And made a habit of it from then on.
* * * *
Dallas wandered through the house, counted eight totes of groceries they still had to put away, saw the puppy sleeping—stopped to watch her for a few seconds. She was pretty skinny, but with a few days of eating regular, she should fill out. Damn, what a cutie—didn’t see Jinx in the kitchen but she was halfway through a tote of dried goods. The place was so damn quiet, sometimes he felt like life’s soundtrack had been turned off, but the film just kept rolling. Not a sound in the house, aside from Annie’s soft breaths in and out.
“Hey, Jinx!” he yelled on his way to check for her in the pantry.
A few clunks and thwacks came from that direction, and when he got there he found her upright but had the impression she’d just stood. Weird. Had she tripped and fallen down or something? Her face and chest were flushed, and she was breathing fast. And her nipples…he should look away. A better man would. But… Whoa. Those suckers were out there.
“Er. Hey.” She smoothed her hands down the front of her jeans, turned her back to him. “Just…putting away the spaghetti.”
Instinct told him to make a smart remark about hiding the salami—something about her made him think “sex”—but he went with common decency instead. “Uh. I switched the generator over so we can run the washing machine, if you’re ready.” He stared at her ass because he could, without being caught, waiting for her reply. She had on a pair of worn jeans she’d taken from her saddle pack and he liked looking at the dark ring around the edge of where her butt met the saddle.
“Um. Okay. I’ll…finish with these noodles and then go grab my laundry.”
“Pup’s out cold, huh?”
“Yeah.” She faced him with a gentle smile. “I let her eat just a little again, to make sure it wasn’t too much for her tummy. Then
she conked out.”
“Guess we’ll have to think of a name.” He’d thought of one, but…
“Any ideas?” she asked, reaching to a high shelf. Her shirt rode up and he got a nice show of her middle.
“Well.” He shrugged. “She is an orphan, so…”
“Annie?”
Just what he’d been thinking. “Yep.”
“That’ll be good for a baby and when she’s a sweet grownup girl, too.” One last box of noodles on the shelf and she stopped, covering her face with her hands. “This is stupid. What good is any of this pasta with no cheese? We’ll never eat cheese again!”
“Should we even plan to go on?” He joked, but then realized… “Shit. Pizza. No pizza.” Ever?
“Without pepperoni, sausage, cheese… Ham. Ugh.”
Damn. He always looked forward to having pizza when he came down from cow camp. Had forgotten about it this time. Since the power had been out for days, they couldn’t even scavenge any frozen pies.
She pulled her hands from her face, shook her head, looking sad. “So I’ve been thinking…chickens.”
“Cheese doesn’t come from chickens.”
“No shit.” She play-punched his arm. “Dad’s neighbor has a bunch. We might never see dairy products again, but we can have fresh eggs if we catch some of those hens and bring them down here.”
“Might be able to nab a cow from the dairy up the road, too. If their calves are in with them, they’ll still have milk.” But they’d need a safe place for all this livestock, especially at night. He’d decided all the horses had to go in the barn at night from now on. He cleared his throat. “I’m gonna need to drive up and check on the cattle soon too. And figure out a way to keep them safe once we bring them back here. Which needs to be in a week or two. It’ll start freezing up on the mountain and they won’t have any feed.”
“Like, what are you thinking? A bigger barn to put them all in at night?”
He was thinking of a fence. A tall one. “I’d like to put something around the whole property—if those guys decide they want in here one night, all they’ve gotta do is throw a rock through a window.”
Her face paled. “Comforting. What kind of fence will keep out people?”
Visions of prison fences with razor wire on top came to mind. But he had no way of making something like that. “Don’t know yet. I imagine they could get over just about anything we could build. It’s more about making it easier for them to go somewhere else instead.” It would be hard for the sick to see what they were doing in the dark of night and with eyes they couldn’t focus. A tall pole fence, maybe, with vertical sheets of corrugated steel roofing? Could he get his hands on that much of the steel? How long would that fence take to build, anyway?
“Do you think as time goes on, more of them will…” Her voice broke. “Die? I mean, winter will be hard for them, right?”
Shit, her eyes. Tears. “Maybe… Shhh. No. Dammit. Jinx.” He had her in his arms, her face against his shoulder before he thought better of it. “Maybe they’ll come up with a cure before winter. Yeah. I bet that’s what’ll happen.” It had to happen. His parents, his sister and her little boys…even that asshat she’d married. This epidemic had to end, and he’d only consider it ending right.
“My dad. He’s all,” she sobbed, “alone. How will he stay warm? What will he eat?”
Assuming the guy had even survived the illness, it was hard to guess. How did people feed themselves when they couldn’t see stuff within arm’s reach? No wonder they went scavenging and hunting. He tried not to think of his folks out there somewhere between Kansas and home, in unfamiliar territory. “Shhh.” He smoothed a hand over her hair. Her tears had soaked through to his shoulder. “We’ll take him some food, okay? Tomorrow, we’ll go up and rustle some chickens, take your dad a picnic basket of…something. Leave it on the front steps, knock or ring the bell and tell him it’s there. Alright?” He hated parting with the food they’d pilfered, but they were healthy. They could hunt and grow food. Possibly wasting some of their stash would be worth the cost, if it’d make her feel better.
She nodded against him. “’kay. Thanks. But it’s your food too. You shouldn’t have to part with it. I’ll eat less to make up for it.”
“I doubt we’re gonna starve.” He looked at the shelves bulging with dried goods. “It’ll be a miserable existence without pizza, but we’ll make it.” Her half-giggle encouraged him. “I’ve got mad fishing skills and the river is practically just out the back door.”
“Ah. Pasta and trout. The diet of survivors.” She wiped her eyes and lifted her head from his shoulder, looked up at him.
“Hey, there was an upcoming cheese shortage anyway. Didn’t you hear about that explosion in the French cheese factory?” It was an oldie, but maybe she’d smile. “Nothing left but de Brie.”
“Ugh.” She pushed away from him, fighting back a grin. “The future of mankind: puns.”
As she walked away, he watched that ring on the back of her jeans and couldn’t help thinking if they were the future, they’d have to reproduce, which meant they should—
“Get your laundry together, Dad-joke,” she said. “I’ll meet you at the washing machine in five.”
* * * *
They barreled through the back door, arms loaded with piles of clean but damp clothes they’d rescued from the line, as waves of rain poured down.
Jinx used the heap in her arms to wipe water from her forehead, then dumped the clothes on the coffee table. “Geez. That was just in the nick of time.”
Dallas dumped his pile in his dad’s recliner and followed her lead, draping the clothes over furniture and shelves to finish drying. The first thing he picked up was, of course, a nifty hot pink thong.
Jinx snatched it away and tossed it to the couch. “That’s dry.” While she sifted through her heap for the rest of her underwear, he watched. “Seriously?” She threw a pair of his jeans at him. “God. I know you’ve seen panties before. And what they cover,” she muttered at the end.
Mmm. He had. But it’d been a longass time, especially since he’d seen what hers covered.
“Even if you have been living like a hermit lately.” She hung one of his work shirts over his mom’s potted palm.
Wait. What? “Hermit? It’s cow camp, Jinx. Somebody’s gotta do it. Besides. I see people. In the fall and winter.”
“What people?” she demanded.
“People.” He opened and closed his mouth like a dumb fish. “Just…people.” She didn’t need to know who he did what with. None of her damn business. That’s who.
She huffed. Making it clear she was mentally calling bullshit.
“Maybe I don’t see as many as you do,” he said, watching the way she felt a pair of his underwear to see if they were dry.
“Oh! Exactly what is that supposed to mean?”
He’d heard stories. Oh, he sure had. Not that he wanted to. He’d rather not hear about any of her adventures or who she’d been on them with. “Come on. I travelled the circuit for a year, remember? Don’t tell me guys aren’t hitting you up at events.”
She dropped the next pair of his underwear on the floor. Stepped on it as she came closer. “And I suppose you think I just fall into bed with every set of Wranglers and spurs that comes my way, huh?”
She’d done it with him. He wisely kept that thought in his head, but her whole face puckered.
“That’s exactly what you think. Grrrr!” Now she moved away from him, back to the pile, where she wadded up a t-shirt of his. “I wasn’t overcome by a sudden urge to be with you, Dallas. It was premeditated.” She flung the shirt at him.
He caught it and tossed it onto the chair pile. Why did she say shit like that? Premeditated. What the blue hell did she mean?
“Well, you act like I was some kind of slut—”
“Clearly you weren’t.” He couldn’t help himself, and he didn’t want to. Time to address the monkey in the room or the white elephant on his back or
whatever the hell it was.
She blushed. Actually turned that peachy color. Growled again. Scooped up her pile o’panties and turned toward the hallway. “I’m not now, either. Going to shower.”
He watched her disappear down the hall wearing those big baggy pants of his mom’s, which she’d put on so she could wash all her other stuff. Last night it had seemed like a good plan to give her loose clothes so he wouldn’t have to see her shape. What a stupid idea. Maybe not as stupid as antagonizing her, though.
Annie whimpered at his feet, so he lifted her up, rubbed her fuzzy little head against his cheek. “Yeah, I know, baby. Looks like we’d better hang up the rest of these clothes and figure out what’s for dinner.”
* * * *
The watermelon they’d brought home was fine, but the cantaloupe had gone over. Not much other produce had been left in Walmart, though. Looked like the infected had been partying hard there at night. The place was disasterized. He’d brought in tomatoes and cucumbers from Mom’s garden, and tomorrow they could eat squash if they wanted. Tonight they had tuna sandwiches—making use of the bread before it got old or moldy—sliced tomatoes, and fat wedges of watermelon. They’d decided if they cooked any hot meals it should be for breakfast or lunch, so the smell wouldn’t carry and bring in unwelcome visitors. At least, until they could build a security fence.
Jinx didn’t seem mad at him anymore, and once they’d cleaned up supper, they still had a couple hours of daylight. Rain poured outside so he didn’t think many sickies would be out and about looking for food, but it was hard to tell. He didn’t plan on testing his theory by going to bed before dark, only to wake up and find some infected dude inside the house.
“Guess it’s good I went out to brush Korbel and check on him earlier.” She scowled at the window. “Stupid rain.”
He bit his lip to keep from laughing at her looking pissed, standing there in a Broncos sweatshirt and Broncos pajama pants that didn’t go together, and it looked like she had on the Broncos tank top underneath. At Walmart, she’d grabbed a stack of teamwear on their way to the grocery section. It did sort of suck that she only had a few of her own clothes. But this was more entertaining for him. Seemed like she’d grabbed a lot he hadn’t noticed at the time. She had several new bottles of stuff in the shower and a stack of packages of razors under the bathroom counter, which interested him more than she’d probably like. Also, other girly hygiene items he’d rather not know about.
Cowboy Strong (Cowboy Up Book 5) Page 27
