by TC Rybicki
“Most definitely, jerk. I’m going for a ride. Cash is the only one that can help my mood,” I stomped so he’d know for sure how mad I was at him. I certainly didn’t expect Dane to follow me because he kept telling me to leave, but maybe he really did want me to stay. Sometimes people say the opposite of what they mean hoping to manipulate a situation.
He grabbed my wrist a little too firm. “Let me go.”
He let go that second, but he prevented me from opening the door. “You can’t take Cash out.”
“Why not?”
“Because I already rode him and the ground’s still muddy. It was a tough ride. He’s worn out. I gave him a rub down and promised him the remainder of the week he could rest. Besides, you’ve never gone riding alone.”
I would never put a strain on Cash, but I felt like riding. There were certain places on Dane’s ranch that affected me in the best way. I needed a retreat from my thoughts. I shied away from the other one because Dot was scary, but Dane made me so angry, I was going to do what I wanted. I was pissed about his day drinking and that he was being so rude to me for no reason. I couldn’t stand the fact he never called after what happened between us on my birthday. This Cash deal was the final thing that made me enraged. Sure, Dane didn’t expect me, but why today? He didn’t ride that much and admitted he rode more this summer than he had in years because he never made time for it.
At least he backed off to head back to his couch and the stupid baseball game. “Fine, I’ll figure something else out.”
My feet slid under the damp ground the second Dane yelled, and I barely gained my footing. “Absolutely not! What the hell do you think you’re doing? I said no riding.”
“Correction, you said Cash needed rest. I’m saddling up Dot.”
“Dot hates you, and you’ve never ridden her. There’s a reason for that.”
“She doesn’t hate me; we just need to get acquainted, and you’re always hogging her.”
Dane came closer and inspected the saddle. He pulled on both straps. “This girth strap isn’t tight enough, and the back strap is too tight. You’ll fall the minute you mount her not that she’d let you get that far, or she will definitely throw you because the saddle isn’t even sitting right on her back.” Dane started to undo everything I’d done. He pushed his way around me and kept apologizing to Dot like I’d wronged her. That bitchy mare made a face at me. I stuck my tongue out at her. “I almost missed it. The whiskey delayed my reaction, but your words hit me a few minutes after you slammed the door. ‘I’ll figure something else out,’ coupled with the fact I didn’t hear the loud rumble of the old truck meant you were about to start trouble.” He kicked the ground outside the stable. “You see how slick it is. If by a miracle you got on with this half ass saddle job, you’d get thrown about hundred yards from the house. I’m sure of it, so turn around and leave. You’re giving me a headache, and I need another drink.”
“No, please don’t. I don’t want you to drink because of me.”
Dane tossed his head back to laugh. “Hells bells, woman. You are self-centered and stuck on yourself, aren’t you? The world doesn’t revolve around you, I promise. My drinking doesn’t have shit to do with you.”
My feet didn’t move, but I wanted to run. That would be humiliating though. I couldn’t run away just because Dane laughed at me and called me names, but I sure as hell didn’t want to start crying either. He pulled off the saddle and put it over the first stall. I had it. I’d watched Dane saddle the horses a ton of times, and I knew the girth strap was loose. I wasn’t done yet. I reached out to touch Dot’s face and she went a little crazy which got me to back up quick.
Dane turned around. When he touched her, she calmed down, “She loathes you.”
“Mean bitch. She’s jealous because both her fellows like me best.” I stuck my tongue out again.
“Sure, about that? Maybe one of her fellows. Cash is a sap. Good lady, sorry she bothered you.” Dane patted his horse one more time before walking away from us to go back inside.
I wasn’t done saying what needed to be said. He never talked to me, and I was using the horse to delay leaving. I figured he’d give me another chance once I got back. Like a fool, I ran after Dane. He just pointed out the slick ground. I wasn’t as lucky the second time my feet skidded. I fell flat on my ass and this time crying was unavoidable. It hurt, and I was embarrassed. Things only got worse. My hand grasped at the soil to steady myself. Dot had left me a present at the edge of the stable another day. I knew it was her. She was always the one that went right before we put them away. I guess Dane had been lazy a few days and wasn’t cleaning it.
I kept trying to get up, but it was almost impossible where I was. Dane came to help.
“Are you okay?”
“No.”
“Where does it hurt?”
I was surprised by his sudden concern. Everywhere, mainly in my heart.
Once I was upright, Dane backed away. “Yikes. That wasn’t just mud, sweetheart.”
“I know. I’m covered in shit, and it’s all your fault. I surrender. Bye, Dane. I’m leaving now.”
He grabbed my arm. “No. Rusty’s old, but even he deserves better. Go inside. Take a shower first. Drop your clothes on the porch. You’re not walking in my house like that.” I was going to protest. “Don’t worry, no one will see. I’m going to put Dot up for the night. I hear thunder in the distance, looks like another round of storms.”
I can’t believe I stripped buck naked outside of Dane’s home, but I trusted him. The shower was hot and satisfying. I’m not sure why I went to his bathroom, but I did. I always used the guest bath after swimming. His soap was spicy and masculine, but it was all I had, and I needed multiple scrub downs to get rid of the odor. Who cares if I smelled like a man? I was going home as soon as I was done, climb under the covers and never come up for air again. I’d die miserable and alone under the quilt smothered in the scents that reminded me of Dane.
One other thing I realized when I shut the water off was I was also going home in a towel because I had no clothes. Gram would have questions, and I had no good answers other than I’m a disaster.
There was a wadded-up shirt just inside the door. He stuck it in, but Dane didn’t invade my privacy. There wasn’t a door on Dane’s shower and he would have seen more than I was willing to show at this stage in our relationship. I liked the way he showed me respect in all the subtle ways. When I lifted the shirt, a pair of pretty pink panties fell to the floor. Oh, hell no. He might respect me, but he wasn’t perfect by any means. I slipped on the shirt. It hid mid to upper thigh, so I was concealed. I marched out into the living room holding the pink undies out in front of me by the tips of two fingers.
“I don’t think so. Whose are these? You’ve got some nerve offering me another woman’s panties. I don’t care how many times they’ve been washed; these are skanky.”
“What the hell are you blabbing about? Look at them, Sydney. They’re your skanky panties, and they’ve been here since the first day you tried the hot tub. I found them on the bathroom floor. I forgot to return them.”
I held the panties up to inspect them, and he was right. Oh. I forgot all about that pair. They were cute not skanky. My taste in underwear was stellar.
Dane walked over to me and made me put my hands down. “Stop waving those around and put them on.”
“Where have these been, Dane? I’ve been here countless times, and you never hinted you stashed my panties. Are there more?”
“Yes, dozens of them and they’re all nailed to my headboard. Give me a break. I stuck ’em in a drawer because they were mixed in my laundry. That’s why I forgot, but when I grabbed you a shirt, I remembered. I’m not a pervert.”
I bent over ready to step into them.
“Stop it, princess. I’m not a pervert, but I’m not a saint. Do not put those on in front of me. Have you lost your mind?”
Dane turned around and I ran to his kitchen, so the bar would co
nceal me while I slipped on my favorite pair of panties. I can’t believe I forgot all about them. “Okay, you can turn around now. I’m decent.”
No, Sydney. You are pure indecency.
I met her in the kitchen. The whiskey bottle taunted me from the bar. It was so tempting to pour another drink, but I grabbed a water bottle instead. I turned around to see her staring at me, but it was really me staring. I grabbed the biggest shirt I had hoping it would fit like a dress. The long discussion over the panties and the minutes she held them out in front of me most definitely caused the dress idea to bomb. Sydney had wet hair and a wild look in her eyes. She damned near put panties on in front of me. I’d spent the better part of five days drowning in my work and booze not to think about her birthday and what we did and didn’t do.
“Dane, will you talk to me now?”
“I’m hungry. Why don’t you sit on the other side of the bar while I make some food?”
“I can help. What are you hungry for?”
Her questions were almost always loaded. “I made pulled pork yesterday, give me a sec to think of something else to do with it.”
“I can make hot Cuban sandwiches.”
“Good idea, but no thanks, I will. I told you to have a seat. Go ahead and talk. Maybe cover up with a blanket, and then I’ll do my best to listen. Doesn’t mean I’m going to like what you have to say.”
“A blanket? I’m hot.”
“Precisely,” she didn’t get it, so I started to prepare our dinner.
“I like lots of pickles.”
“I know.”
“You know a lot about me, Dane.”
“And yet I’m clueless.”
“I’m sorry I never did what you wanted.”
I stopped slicing, so I could be sure what she was sorry about. I questioned her with my eyes.
“Grant.”
I nodded and went back to work slicing ham and chopping, “Grant. Got it.”
“Can you take me to Austin Friday?”
I dropped the knife.
“Dane. Please trust me? I need closure. It’s not only about Grant. It’s everything about my past. As soon as I left Dallas, I pushed it all down, never really facing what I left behind. I have to see him again. Gram won’t let me drive Rusty and she sure as hell won’t allow me to borrow her car. She’s freaky weird possessive about Woodrow.”
“Who?”
“The Buick, you know that car reminds me of a fancy butler.”
“Why do you need to see him? To know if you’re still in love with him?”
“Maybe. Or maybe to see if I ever was.”
“So, I’d be taking you to break up?” Now we were getting somewhere.
“Do we have to label it?”
“Um, yeah Sydney, we do. Because one scenario is positive; the opposite reason would make me a huge tool. It’d be like taking you to hook up with the enemy. Do you want to break up with him or not?”
“I want to see him.”
Every sentence and question made me walk that much closer until I was standing directing in front of her on the barstool. She never grabbed a blanket either. My hand landed on her knee. She looked down not up at me. “That wasn’t what I asked. Look at me, Sydney.”
Her scent filtered my senses at this distance. I questioned earlier why in the hell she ran back to my bathroom in the first place, but I got busy getting her soiled clothes going in the wash and concentrated other things to distract me. Talk about the fast track to sobriety, knowing where she was in my house and what she was doing pushed all the alcohol out of my veins. I broke out in sweat the second I slipped clothes between the small crack I made with the door.
“Before I say another word, what soap did you use?”
“Yours. It’s all I had.”
Knowledge was gained at that moment. A woman can change a man’s soap just by rubbing it over her skin. She sure as hell didn’t smell like I did when I got out of the shower.
Sydney reached for me. I needed to step back, but I didn’t. I walked in between those soft uncovered legs that I’d watched turn several shades of tan. She’d been my entire summer. I let her in my life and she allowed me in hers. We spent so much time together; our lives felt mingled. Where did hers end and mine begin? I hugged her, but I promised to contain it only ten seconds. Sydney made that noise that was unique to her when she was satisfied, and I stayed five more seconds just for pure sweet torture.
“I missed you, Dane.”
I missed her. I said something else, “Tell me you are going to Grant’s to say so long buddy. We’re not the same people we were at graduation or the miles have torn us apart or any such breakup bullshit teens normally spew, and I will drive you to Austin. I will drive you to the ends of the earth. I will make a fool of myself doing anything to please you, but that’s what I need to hear from you. Tell me that’s what the trip’s about.”
Her hand splayed out on my cheek, and one finger pressed into her obsession. “I asked you to trust me, but I’m not going to let you tell me what to say. I’m a poet. That goes against my nature.”
“You’re also spoiled rotten and frustrating as hell.”
“And super young and inexperienced, so I’m going to make a lot of mistakes. Not everyone will stick around to watch me make them.”
She had a good point there, and I often had to remind myself what it was like to be nineteen. Maybe I expected too much from Sydney because my feelings for her were so strong. “No doubt. Good thing I’ve already been through that stage of my life and developed patience and tolerance for such things.” I took her hand from my cheek, so I could press my mouth against the tender skin between her thumb and forefinger. We were both breathing heavily and the invisible force that always pulled me closer was pushing harder than ever, but I wouldn’t do it. I gave in a few days ago. It was inevitable the minute she entered the room wearing a sundress when I picked her up for her birthday. I saw all those moments leading up to our first heated encounter: Sydney teasing me from the other massage table, her fingers holding my wrist when that scraping thing tickled my feet during our pedicures and me wiping chocolate off her lips at the end of the night. It was impossible not to kiss those lips several minutes later. I could still taste her, see her eyes when I gave her a glimpse what we’d be like and hear her excitement because this minute standing between her legs was almost too similar.
Sydney laid her head on my chest. That should be safer than the way she was looking at me when I pretty much agreed to drive her to see her boyfriend. Who was I anymore? Hers. I was hers and she and I both knew it. “You’re too good for me.”
“I know, but flattery won’t get you another kiss. I need more than words.”
She pushed me away. “Jerk. Who mentioned kissing? I don’t want another kiss. I’m confused enough.”
I hated when Sydney lied to me, so I made it my mission to see her eat those words. We were face to face again, so I highlighted all the signs. My first touch was over her heart. “Take it back.”
“What?”
“That you don’t want me to kiss you again. You wanted it since the first day, and I’m not spouting off some caveman mantra. You made the first move in the water.”
“I stopped.”
“So, did I because I respect you more than I respect myself, obviously.”
“So, what are you saying, you could’ve pushed, and I would’ve given in?”
The second touch caressed her neck, and I walked closer even though we were already too close as it was, “Every single day and I’m pushing right now. What’s going on in that pretty head of yours? Ready to admit I’m right?”
My other hand reached down and grabbed her thigh. I lifted and pulled her body, so Sydney would move forward, but the chair stayed put. There was no speculating how turned on I was since I’d worked all day in a pair of sweatpants and cotton tee. Sydney’s fingers clenched the fabric at the bottom of my shirt, and her head fell back. I said no kissing, but my nose took a hit off that cl
ean skin, and she did more than I bargained for. Her feet wrapped around the back of my legs, the shirt she had on was completely out the way, and we spent the next few minutes participating in the most non-friendly hug in history. It was sweet torture, but we both held out. I didn’t kiss her, and she didn’t try to get me to, but we both sure as shit wanted it. The loudest rumble of thunder and subsequent strike of lightning brought me back to my sense.
I let go. “Cuban, extra pickles coming up.”
“I’ll be right back.” Sydney hopped off the barstool and ran to the bathroom. She stayed in there until I plated our dinner.
“You want to eat here or the couch?”
“Here’s fine. I need to go. Are my clothes almost done?”
“I just started the dryer, thirty more minutes, but you’re not going anywhere.”
“What? Why? I think we’ve said and done enough for now.”
“Sydney, look outside. No way am I letting you get out in this.”
“It’s less than five miles.”
“No.”
“Then you can take me home.”
“No. I was drinking earlier.”
“So, you are drunk? Now I understand.”
“No, I’m not drunk, but there is no reason to take a chance and what do you understand?”
“Nothing. Forget it. I’ll need to call Gram.”
“I already did. She told me it’s fine; only come home tonight if it lets up, but she said the weather said expect local road flooding. Oh, and she also said not to get you pregnant.”
That last part made me laugh. It was awkward when Josie said it to me, but she was damn hilarious.
“Oh my God! She is too much.”
“Yeah, I think it runs in the family, at least with the females.”
“Maybe, but I’m calling her to let her know it’s impossible to get pregnant from the other room. If I stay the night, I won’t be staying anywhere near you. Speaking of the women in my family, I read the letters.”
“Your mom’s?” When would I tell her about the ones I’d read from Marlene to my father? I wanted to, but she and I were still working out our own shit.
