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First Kiss with a Cowboy: Includes a bonus novella

Page 27

by Sara Richardson


  “It’ll always hurt,” he said as they slowed around the curve. “But after a while the hurt has a harder time clawing its way to the surface. It gets covered up by the good memories of the person you lost and eventually by new joy you let into your life—when you’re ready, of course.”

  She stopped, shoved her hands in the back pockets of her own jeans, and turned to face him.

  She stared at him for several long seconds. They were the only two people outside at the moment, but the way he looked at her made it feel like the quiet street was their own little world. If he were anyone else—if he did anything else for a living other than risking his life—she would… What would she do? The only relationship Ivy’d had for the past two years was with her own grief. She still wrapped it around herself like a blanket—a reminder to protect her heart from ever having to go through that again.

  “You ever lose someone close to you?” she finally asked.

  He nodded once but hesitated before saying more.

  “It’s okay,” she said, breaking the silence. “You don’t have to tell me. It helps enough simply knowing when people understand.”

  He cleared his throat. “We already shared my first emergency since coming to town, my first taste of fried pickles, and my first and last shot of apple pie liqueur. Why not share personal loss as well?”

  His attempt at humor would have sounded callous if she couldn’t tell it was a defense mechanism. She was an expert there.

  “I’m all ears,” she said.

  He shrugged. “I was an idiot kid who got in the car after a party with a buddy who shouldn’t have been driving. But because I’d been drinking, too, I believed him when he said he was okay to drive. Made it all the way to my street before he lost control and wrapped the car around a light post. Front end caught fire. I got out—and he didn’t.”

  He said the words so quickly and matter-of-factly, like it was the only way he could get them out. It didn’t stop her heart from aching, or the tears from pooling in her eyes. He more than understood what she’d been through yet hadn’t said a word all night while she’d cocooned herself in her grief blanket tighter than she had in months.

  She reached for him but pulled her hand away before making contact. This was too much. Their connection kept getting harder to ignore. She had to make a concerted effort to keep him at arm’s length.

  “I’m so sorry, Carter. I—you—this whole night you were so nice to me, and I had no idea that—”

  There were no right words for wanting to wrap him in her arms while also wanting to run as far from him as possible.

  “Hey there,” he said, resting a palm on her cheek and wiping away a tear with his thumb.

  She shook her head and stepped back, hating herself for doing it. But all she had left was self-preservation, and Lieutenant Carter Bowen was the biggest threat to it.

  He cleared his throat, taking a step back himself. “It was more than a decade ago. And I meant what I said. It does get easier. I can talk about Mason now—remember how he was the best at making people laugh, even our teachers. He kicked the winning field goal at our homecoming game junior year. And he had a real future planned, you know? Football was going to take him to college, but he wanted to be a doctor. A pediatrician, actually.” Carter laughed. “He was the one on the straight and narrow path while I cut class more often than I went.”

  Her eyes widened. “I don’t believe that for a second.”

  He forced a smile.

  “It’s true. I never cut for the sake of cutting. It was always for work. My brothers and I knew from the time we were young that our future was already mapped out. After graduation, my two older brothers went to work at my old man’s auto body shop. I was supposed to do the same. It wasn’t like there was money for college for three kids, least of all the youngest.” He shrugged. “I accepted my fate like my brothers had—until Mason died.”

  Ivy crossed her arms tight over her chest, the urge to touch him—to comfort him—almost more than she could bear. “You changed direction after the accident,” she said. It wasn’t a question. She knew.

  He nodded. “Much to my father’s dissatisfaction, but I was done letting others make decisions for me, especially when I know better than anyone else what’s right for me.”

  “What about your mom?” she asked, tentatively.

  “She was sort of caught in the middle. She understood us both but wasn’t about to take sides. So I got my grades up senior year. Did two years at community college, got my EMT certification, then took out a loan so I could finish my bachelor’s in fire science.”

  “So fighting fires is your penance for surviving when Mason didn’t?”

  He shook his head. “Maybe it started that way, but the more I learned, the more I realized I could help people in all sorts of capacities. Even did some presentations at local schools about my firsthand experience being in the car with someone under the influence. I hope to set up a similar program in Meadow Valley and neighboring areas.”

  She let out a shaky breath. “You’re a good man, Carter. Your father should be proud of you. I hope he comes around someday.” Ivy dropped her hands to her sides. “I’m only a few more minutes this way. You can head back if you want.”

  He glanced up at the star-studded sky, then back at her. “Don’t really have anywhere to be. Plus, I promised Casey, and I don’t want to get on the bad side of the person who runs the one nighttime establishment around here.”

  She shrugged. “Suit yourself.”

  But she smiled softly as she turned away from him and strode toward the bend in the road. The safest thing she could do was put as much distance between herself and Carter Bowen as possible, but a few more minutes with him by her side wouldn’t hurt anyone.

  He didn’t say anything for the rest of walk, letting her silently lead him to her porch, where she stopped short of the front door and pivoted to face him once again.

  “Can I ask you something?” he finally said.

  “Okay,” she answered.

  He scratched the back of his neck, avoiding her eyes for a moment, then squared his shoulders and set his blue-eyed gaze right at her.

  “I’ve dated plenty. Some relationships got more serious than others, but I’ve never told a woman about Mason until tonight, and it hasn’t even been twelve hours since I met you, Ivy Serrano. Why do you suppose that is?”

  Because, Lieutenant, there’s an undeniable connection between us.

  Because, Lieutenant, if I believed in such a thing, I’d say we were kindred spirits.

  Because, Lieutenant, it feels like it’s been more than twelve hours. If it didn’t sound so crazy, I’d say I felt like I’ve known you all my life.

  But it wouldn’t help either of them to say any of that. So she swallowed the knot in her throat. “Because, Lieutenant, I’m simply a good listener. It’s my blessing—and maybe my curse. People like to tell me things they wouldn’t tell anyone else. I guess I just have one of those faces.” She shrugged, hoping it would sell the lie. “I wouldn’t read any more into it than that.”

  Except that I’m a liar, and I want to kiss you, and you scare me, Lieutenant.

  She finally gave in and skimmed her fingers along the hair at his temples and where it curled up above his ear. She couldn’t let the night end without any sort of contact, hoping he understood this was the most she could allow herself to give.

  “You need a trim,” she said. “I could do it. Casey went to cosmetology school right after high school. She used to practice on Charlie, even taught me how to do a simple cut.”

  He laughed. “And here I thought you were going to break your own rules and do something crazy.”

  “Like what?” she asked, but she knew. She wouldn’t be the one to say it, though. She wouldn’t break the rules.

  “Like kiss me,” he said. And even though he was teasing her, hearing the words out loud made her realize how much she wanted them to be true.

  Her cheeks flushed. “I don�
��t date firefighters, Lieutenant. And you made it very clear that you don’t want to date me.”

  “Good. Then we’re both on the same page. I can’t let anything get in the way of work right now. My future rides on everything that happens in the next month. Plus, I’ve already dated a woman or two who either couldn’t handle the hours I worked or the risks I took. I won’t change who I am, not for my father and not for any woman, even if it means missing out on something great. On someone great. No matter how much you bat those big brown eyes at me.”

  “I do not bat my lashes,” she insisted. “Wait, what did you just say?”

  She stood there, eyes wide, for a long moment as everything he said registered. Then she held out her right hand.

  “Friends, then?” she said, the word leaving a bitter taste in her mouth. But it was all she could offer and all that it seemed he’d be willing to take.

  He wrapped his hand around hers, his calloused palm sending a shock of electricity up her arm as he shook.

  “Friends it is.”

  “Well then,” she said. “I’m around after five tomorrow if you want that haircut. No charge, of course. Just a favor from one friend to another.”

  He nodded once, then let her hand go. “Appreciate the offer. I’ll get back to you on that. Good night, Ms. Serrano.”

  “Good night, Lieutenant.”

  He flashed her a grin, spun on his heel, and then headed off the way he had come.

  Ivy leaned against her door and let out a long, shaky breath.

  “Friends,” she said to herself. “Friends.”

  If she said it enough, she might even it believe it was true.

  Chapter Four

  Ivy went through the store, checking all outlets. even though she hadn’t used any up front. You never could be too careful. Then she went to the back office, where she checked on her new battery-powered mini fridge and powered down and unplugged her laptop. She went to her design table, where she’d been trying out a new pattern, hated it, and went at it with the seam ripper, then unplugged the sewing machine as well. Then she scanned the small space twice, made sure the circuit breaker looked up to snuff, and locked the back door. Once over the threshold and into the store, she doubled back one more time to make extra sure she hadn’t left an unknown fire hazard behind.

  It was a quarter past five. She remembered her offer to Carter the night before. It had been in the back of her mind the entire day. One minute she hoped she’d make it home to find him waiting on her doorstep while the next minute she prayed he’d forgotten the whole thing.

  Why had she even put the offer out there? A haircut, one-on-one? It was almost as intimate as kissing. It wasn’t like she could blame it on the alcohol. By the time he’d walked her home, she was as sober as could be. But the things she’d confided in him about losing Charlie—and what he’d told her about Mason? She’d connected with him in a way she hadn’t anticipated.

  Shake it off and move on, she said to herself as she turned off all the lights in the shop. You get close to someone like that and you’ll never find peace. It was why she’d established her rule. And it wasn’t just firefighters but police officers, too. She had the utmost admiration for those who put their lives before others, but she couldn’t fall for someone like that. No way. No how.

  When she’d finally satisfied herself that the shop was safe to leave for the night, she hoisted her bag over her shoulder and slipped out the front door and locked it behind her. After spinning toward the sidewalk to walk home, she gasped to find Carter Bowen leaning against a dusty, beat-up red Ford F-250.

  “Evening, Ivy,” he said. “Didn’t mean to scare you.”

  She shook her head, half hoping she simply needed to clear her vision and it would be Shane or Wyatt or any other guy she didn’t think about kissing the second she saw them. But nope, it was Carter Bowen all right. Lieutenant Carter Bowen. And tonight he was wearing a blue-and-white-plaid shirt rolled to the elbows, jeans that looked about as old as his truck, and dirt-caked work boots.

  Shoot. He looked as good in clothes that should probably be marched straight to the washer as he did in his uniform. He’d have to take said dirty clothes off, and she’d bet he also looked pretty darn good—

  Stop it, Ivy. You aren’t doing yourself any favors letting your mind go there.

  “Ivy?” Carter said, and she realized she had not offered him any sort of verbal response yet.

  “Lieutenant. Hi. What are you doing here?”

  He crossed his arms. “First, when I’m not in uniform, Carter will do just fine. Second, are we going to do that thing where we act like you didn’t invite me around last night for something as innocent as a haircut?” He ran a hand across the stubble on his jaw. “Could probably use a shave, too. Don’t suppose that’s included with the cut?”

  She swallowed, her throat suddenly dry. “I’m not pretending anything,” she said. “Guess I was expecting you at my house, though, rather than outside my shop. My trimmer and barber shears are back at home.”

  He shrugged. “It’s early yet. Sun won’t go down for another few hours. Figured we could take a ride first, show you the trail I rode with some ranch guests earlier today. It’s real pretty, and there’s a great view when you get to the hill. Though I have to admit the view’s pretty good right where I am now.”

  She rolled her eyes and fidgeted with the messy bun on top of her head. Today she wore a chambray linen tunic that had wrinkled the second she’d put it on, but she loved it anyway. It was so comfortable and looked great with her floral leggings and black moto boots. Comfort all around. Maybe she’d been sober when she’d gotten home last night, but that didn’t mean waking up this morning was easy after putting away four drinks the evening before. She hadn’t had it in her to wear wedges today.

  “With corny pickup lines like that, it’s a wonder you’re still single. Wait, you are single, right? Not that it matters. I mean it might matter to other women, but not to me.”

  She winced. She was about as smooth as sandpaper.

  Carter grinned. “I’m single. Not that it matters, since we are just friends. Is that a yes to the ride, then?”

  She opened her mouth, then closed it.

  “Everything okay?” he asked. “You said you were free after five. It’s after five. It’s not too hot, now that the sun is headed west…”

  Not too hot. Ha. He was funny. Carter Bowen was an actual riot. Had he looked in a mirror? He was hot on a stick dipped in hot sauce. That was part of the problem. His overall charm didn’t help either.

  She rolled her eyes again and groaned.

  “Okay now I feel like I missed a whole conversation,” he said.

  She laughed. “Only what’s going on in my head. And trust me, you do not want access to what’s in there.”

  He pushed off the side of the truck and took a step toward her. “May I?” he asked, lifting her bag off her shoulder.

  “Um, sure,” she said.

  Now that he had her stuff, she guessed she had no choice but to go with him. Her house keys were in that bag, which meant she was practically stranded. That was sound logic, wasn’t it?

  He opened the passenger door and held out a hand to help her climb in. She plopped down onto a black leather seat with a stitched-up tear down the middle. The interior was clean as could be, but the dashboard looked like something out of an old movie. There was no USB port and a very minimal digital display for the radio.

  When Carter climbed into the driver’s seat and pulled his door shut, she gasped.

  “Is that a tape deck?” she asked.

  He nodded. “Works, too.”

  “Wait a minute,” she said, brushing a hand over the dashboard. “Does this thing even have airbags? Because I’m not sure if you remember my safety setup in the shop, but I don’t do risk.”

  He laughed. “The truck’s old, but it’s not ancient. Twenty years never looked so good on another vehicle.”

  She put one hand on the door handle
, threatening to get out. “You didn’t answer my question, Lieutenant.”

  He cocked a brow. “I’m not in uniform, Ivy. See how easily I bypassed the Ms. Serrano? I bet you can do it, too.”

  She sighed. “I can call you by your name.” Except that meant they were dispensing with formalities, which also meant they were—what? They’d agreed on friends, but this little after-work activity already felt like something more.

  “That’s funny,” he said. “Because I didn’t hear you say it.”

  “Please, Carter, can you confirm that this vehicle is safe by today’s standards?” She smirked.

  He laughed. “Yes. There are airbags. It has four-wheel drive if we ever get stuck in the mud or—highly unlikely for this time of year—snow. Hell, it even has working seat belts. You forget I’m the son of a mechanic. I know a thing or two about maintaining a vehicle.”

  She pulled her seat belt over her shoulder and clicked it into place, then crossed her arms over her chest. “Tease me all you want, but there’s no reason to ride in a death trap when I can walk almost anywhere I need to go around here. Plus, it’s enough that you do what you do for a living. The least I can do is make sure you’re cruising around town in something safe.”

  He laughed harder this time. “Cruising? Darlin’, you don’t cruise in a machine like this. You ride, drive, and sometimes even tow, but wherever you’re going, it’s always with a purpose. Cruising is aimless, and I am anything but.”

  Damn he was sure of himself. In any other man, that quality would be sexy as all get-out. But she didn’t want Carter Bowen to be sexy as anything.

  He put the key in the ignition and shifted the truck into drive. She expected the tailpipe to backfire or the vehicle to lurch forward, but the engine purred quietly as Carter maneuvered smoothly onto the street.

  “It’s been a few years since I’ve been on a horse,” she said, her heart rate increasing. It wasn’t because she was afraid of riding, though. It was being next to him, the thrum of anticipation, but of what she couldn’t say. If he’d have kept to the plan and come over for a haircut, she’d have been in control. But Carter Bowen was literally at the wheel, and Ivy had no idea what came next. “Used to ride every summer at sleepaway camp,” she continued. With her big brother, Charlie. There he was again, creeping into her thoughts and reminding her of what unbearable loss felt like. Her throat grew tight, and she hoped Carter would fill the silence while she pushed the hurt back into its hiding space.

 

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