by D. R. Graham
She folds her napkin into a tiny fan as she sorts through her memories. “I don’t know. I guess because he’s so strong, not just physically, but his attitude when he sets his mind to accomplish something is unstoppable. The first time I ever saw him was at a rodeo and he seemed invincible to me. His strength and confidence always made me feel safe.” She takes another sip of her latte. “Blinded by the buckle. Stupid, right?”
“No. It’s not stupid. Everyone wants to feel safe.” I write ‘strong’ and ‘determined’ in the pro column.
She chuckles with regret. “I went from a guy who would rather die than cry in front of someone to a bleeding-heart tree-hugger who feels the planet’s every pain.”
“Chuck cried over losing you.”
Her head snaps back and her eyes open wide in shock. “He did?”
“Well, more like his eyes watered and his voice wavered.”
“Wow. For him, that’s basically equivalent to bawling.” The news sinks in, and based on how she’s nibbling her lip, the revelation is plucking at her sympathy strings. “Poor Chuckie.”
“Um, Janine.” I hold up the list of ten cons. “Which part of this list wasn’t clear?”
She laughs and pops a chunk of scone in her mouth.
“Seriously. I can’t in good conscience support any type of reconciliation when the results are this tragically lopsided. You deserve better.”
“I know. You’re right.” She spins on the bar stool and signals the waitress for the check, then leans her elbows back on the counter. “Normally, I shake my head at those stupid bitches who think they can change a guy. Imagine my horror to realize I am one of those stupid bitches.”
“You’re not dumb. You put your foot down.”
“But I didn’t want to, and it’s killing me to stay away from him.” She hands the waitress a twenty to pay for both of us and waves off the change.
“I’m sorry he’s not good enough for you.”
“Yeah.” Janine stands and puts her jean jacket on. “Me too. I wish I could stay longer, but I have to get to class.”
“No problem. Thanks for meeting me.” I stand to give her a hug. “It was nice to see you again.”
“I’ll see you around. Just because Chuck is out of the picture doesn’t mean you and I can’t be friends.”
“Yeah. Okay. I’d like that.” I give her another hug before she rushes down the street. My classes are done for the day, so I head to the library to get some studying done. I probably shouldn’t be surprised to find Chuck leaning against the door of his truck a block down from the café.
“How’d it go?” he asks, arms folded.
I pull out the note pad and add ‘stalker’ to the cons list before I tear off the sheet and hand it to him. “I’d say it didn’t go well.”
His forehead creases with anger as he reads the list. I’m not sure if he even finishes it before he crumples the paper into a ball with his fist, then throws it through his open window into the cab of his truck.
“This” I point at him from head to toe to indicate his anger management problem “Is also part of the problem. You need to learn how to control your temper. It’s off-putting.”
He inhales deeply to stifle his rage. It’s taking every ounce of his restraint. “So, there’s no hope?”
Ah, man. He sounds so dejected. I don’t want him to impulsively jump off a bridge or something. There isn’t any hope for him and Janine but maybe for him and the next woman he dates. Possibly. Remotely. If he doesn’t give up. “Despite your atrocious record of conduct, Janine still inexplicably has a soft spot for you. Maybe that means you have a miniscule redeeming quality somewhere deep down inside. To be perfectly honest, I don’t know what that quality is, but if you can find it and dig it up that would be your best bet.”
His face lights up with a glimmer of optimism. “What does she want me to do to prove to her I’m willing to change?”
“She doesn’t want you to do anything. She’s moving on. And she should. My recommendation for you is to completely change everything about who you are and then maybe you’ll have a chance at love at some point in the future. With someone else. Sorry to be harsh but, even though the truth hurts, I don’t think it would be fair to lie to you.”
He nods as he lets the message sink in. I can tell he’s still scheming to win Janine back. Whatever. At least if he has something to work towards he won’t give up on life and step in front of a train.
“Good luck.” I turn and head down the sidewalk.
“Thanks for doing that for me, Della.”
Surprised at how well he’s taking the bad news, I turn and walk backwards. “You’re welcome. And by the way, politeness and manners are good first steps. Keep it up, you might actually be able to redeem yourself.”
With his hands in his pocket and a genuinely vulnerable look on his face, he asks, “Will you help me?”
“I can’t help you be a better person, Taylor. You have to do that for yourself.”
“I’ll do the work.” With a renewed sense of hope that comes from having a plan, he walks towards me. “I just need someone to ride my ass and keep me focused. You’re good at nagging, right?”
“Seriously? Nag yourself.” Already offended by him, I turn to leave.
He runs to catch up and matches my stride. “Nag was a bad choice of words. I should have said coach. I need a coach. You understand women. You’re nauseatingly nice. And you’re not afraid to stand up to me.” He hops in my way and stops me in my tracks with a goofy, enthusiastic grin. “I would really appreciate it if you’d be my coach.”
Admittedly, I am the perfect person for the job. And the chances of him succeeding without help are astronomically small. But I have more important things to focus on. Oh, who am I kidding? After sizing him up, I roll my eyes in surrender. “Fine. I’ll coach you. But not so you can win Janine back. I’ll do it because I want to one day be proud to call you my friend.”
He pumps his fist, and I already regret that I agreed.
Chapter 20
Easton
Just before midnight a car rolls in and parks in front of the barn. We aren’t expecting anyone, so I get up and open the loft window. When I make out the Volkswagen Beetle, I smile and lean against the window frame.
“Surprise,” Della whisper-shouts up to me as she springs out of the car and flings her arms out to the side. She’s wearing a fluffy, pink rabbit costume, which doesn’t faze Brewster. He runs over, wagging his tail. Della crouches down to give him some love.
I can’t help but laugh at the sight of a bunny reluctantly patting the stomach of a dog. “Get up here, you goofball.”
Della says something I can’t quite hear to Brewster, then grabs her bag out of the back seat of the car and hops towards the stable door with Brewster following and jumping, too. I meet them at the bottom of the stairs and Della launches herself into my arms for a hug. A hug I really need. It’s been a long week. Meetings at town hall, at the police station, and with the lawyer. Doing all my dad’s work on the ranch. Falling behind at school. God, I’ve missed the way she makes me feel when I’m with her. I can’t even explain exactly what it is that she does. She just makes me happy. With her arms still wrapped around my neck, I reach down to hook her plush-covered legs up around my waist, so I can carry her upstairs. It’s hard to blindly judge the steps and she squeals, worried I’m going to trip and kill us both.
“I’ve got you. Don’t worry.”
She clings tightly to me like a baby monkey, or a bunny in this case. Once we reach the top of the stairs safely, she presses her lips softly to mine. Then she steps back and drops her bag to the floor before spinning around and wiggling her butt to show off the white puff tail. “Do you like your surprise?”
“A midnight visit from an adorable five-foot-five Easter Bunny?” I snap and point to the stairs so Brewster will head back to the barn. He mopes because he’s being banished from the fun but turns and disappears down the stairs.
“It’s too weird, isn’t it?” She glances down at her giant fuzzy body and frowns. “It seemed like a good idea when I was wandering around Walmart, depressed because I missed you so much, and also because I needed staples—as in literal staples for a paper stapler not like the flour, sugar, and butter type of food staples, although we did need salsa, which is arguably a staple here in California—and I was also looking for a new hairbrush. Anyway, they had their Easter products on clearance. Which I’m just realizing is not sexy. Unless you have one of those fetish things.”
I scoop Della up in my arms and gently place her on the bed to unzip the costume. “I love my surprise.” She’s not wearing anything underneath, which makes me grin “You drove four hours like that?”
“No, silly. It’s too hot. I drove nude for four hours and then stopped at the beginning of your five-mile-long driveway to put it on.”
“Ah. That makes way more sense.”
She laughs and shimmies out of the bunny suit.
Pulling it off over her bare feet, I toss it onto the chair, then kiss her toes. “I thought you had to meet your study group to work on your project tomorrow?”
She smiles and inhales deeply as I leave a trail of kisses from her belly button to her collarbone. “I told them I have a contagious skin virus and offered to participate via video call instead. They were all more than happy to oblige.”
I slide down next to her and run my fingers along her waist and up to cup her breast. “Your skin looks contagion-free to me.”
She rolls and leans in until her lips are hovering seductively close to mine. “I lied.”
“What? Not possible. Della Koskov doesn’t lie.”
“Hmm. Apparently when a bunny suit and a boyfriend she misses desperately are involved, she’ll stoop to all sorts of devious lows.” Her hand slides across my abs tentatively as if she’s thinking about making the first move but instead pops up on her knees and straddles my waist. “Speaking of devious lows, this disobedient version of Della might even use a curse word.”
“Really?” I run my palms over her thighs. “Let’s hear it.”
She slides her hair over her shoulder and then drops forward until her breasts are pressed to my chest and her lips caress my ear. “Just kidding,” she whispers. “I would sound weird if I swore. But it starts with an f and ends with a k, and I want you to do it to me. Please.”
Wow. That was unexpectedly hot. “Naughty girl.”
She winks, and I flip us both over until she’s on her back. I push my boxer briefs down to expose my erection but then freeze because I don’t have a condom.
“In my bag,” she says, breathlessly. “I brought the ones from your room.”
So glad that she thought ahead, I reach over the side of the mattress to grab her bag and then hand it to her so she can find the box of condoms inside. Along with the box she timidly pulls out a satin blindfold and a pink feather.
“I don’t know if you’ll like this,” she says and tickles my chest. “I went to a sex shop, thinking I could find some things you’d like, but honestly I was mostly just confused and embarrassed because I had no idea what anything was. The sales clerk could tell how out of my comfort zone it was to even buy the blindfold. She threw in the feather for free.”
“You don’t need to pretend to be someone you’re not comfortable being just because you think it’s what I would like. You’re already everything I could ever ask for just by being you.”
Her lips pucker in a sexy way from the compliment before she whispers, “Thank you.” Then her eyebrow lifts with a mischievous arc as she rolls the condom on me. “To be honest, though, I’m kind of into trying the blindfold. If you are.”
Man. She’s awesome. How did I get so lucky? I love everything about her. Seriously. Love her. Whoa, Havie. Do not tell her you love her in the middle of sex. She won’t believe it’s genuine. But say something. If you don’t, she’s going take the silence as a rejection.
Her smile fades as she notices my hesitation. “Is everything okay?” she asks.
Damn. Speak, dummy. But not I love you. Not now. And swallow back whatever that emotion is that’s threatening to choke you up. I nod so she won’t worry. Then after admiring how beautiful she is for a little longer, I finally find the right words. “I’m really glad you’re here.”
Her eyes sparkle with a smile as her gaze blazes into my soul. A million thoughts seem to flicker through her mind as she studies my expression. Her mouth opens slightly as if she’s going to speak but then she presses her lips together to stop herself. When she starts again, she says, “I’m really glad I’m here, too.”
I reach for the pink satin blindfold and stretch the elastic over her head, kissing her before drawing the fabric over her eyes. Knowing it will heighten her other senses, I run the feather over her skin. Then touch my tongue to her nipples, one at a time, and watch them react. As I continue to explore down her midline with my mouth, and make my way between her legs, she clutches at the bedspread, her body writhing from the sensations. Bathed in the moonlight, the curves and angles of her body are so beautiful—the arch of her back, the flex of her legs, the extension of her neck, and the slope above her upper lip as her mouth opens in a gasp. God. I need to be inside her. Now.
She inhales sharply, head falling back onto the pillow as I enter her, and she bucks her hips up to meet my thrusts, enticing me in deeper each time. I lace my fingers with hers and lift both her arms over her head, watching her breasts bounce in rhythm to our movements. It’s a huge turn on, especially the soft moans that escape from the back of her throat each time I penetrate fully into her.
Propping her up by the hips into a bridge position, I kneel and, with my knees wide, extend her legs to rest on my shoulders. It’s a position that brings us even closer together. Our movements synchronise and her muscles quiver as I feel her start to come. At the peak of her wave I release, and she screams in unbridled ecstasy.
God damn. It doesn’t get any better than that.
After soaking up the high for a few extra beats, I pull out, slide her legs off my shoulders, and flop down beside her. She pushes the mask up onto her forehead before leaning over to kiss me. In between rapid breaths she says, “That was fun, right?”
I nod, unable to form words quite yet.
Super jacked, she drums my chest with her palms several times and then shoots up to stand on the bed. “I’m going to hop in the shower. Do you want to join me?” She bounces up and down on the mattress, trying to get me to move.
“Jesus. Did you take speed before you got here or something?”
She holds up two fingers on her left hand and one finger on her right hand. “Two green tea lattes and one Red Bull.” She blinks exaggeratedly and then opens her eyes wide. “I’m going to be awake for a while. And probably super annoying.”
I sit up and spank her bare ass, which makes her jump off the bed and run to the bathroom. I laugh as I follow, throw the condom in the trash and then step into the shower behind her.
“Sorry I’m hyper. I didn’t want to get sleepy while I was driving.”
“It’s okay. I like the hyper you as much as the calm you.”
“And the grumpy me?”
“I like all of your yous.”
She bounces up on her tiptoes and kisses me. “Have lots of women slept over here?” she asks as she lathers my back with shower gel.
“No. I stayed in my childhood bedroom in the house up until I built the loft apartment last summer. You’re the one and only guest I’ve ever had up here.”
She nods in a satisfied way and hands the shampoo bottle to me, so I’ll wash her hair for her. “I’ve been avoiding asking you the next question because I’m afraid to know the answer, but we have to talk about it at some point.”
“Okay,” I say, worried that it’s not something I’ll want to talk about.
She leans back and lets the water pour over her head, then wipes her eyes as her forehead creases. “How much more school can you mi
ss before they kick you out?”
I curl my finger under her chin and tilt her head up to make eye contact with me. “Don’t worry. I’ve emailed all my instructors and explained my dad’s medical situation and that I need to run the ranch. All of them except for Cavendish have said that as long as I get the assignments in on time, and do well on the exams, they’ll waive the classroom participation mark.”
“What are you going to do about Cavendish’s class?”
I kiss her forehead and then slide conditioner down the length of her hair. “Show up on Wednesdays and Fridays, I guess.”
“That’s so much driving back and forth.”
I shrug and kiss her shoulder. “I’d be driving out on weekends to spend time with you anyway.”
She smiles and reaches up to squeeze my face. “That makes me happy. But your dad needs you.”
“And I need you, so either way, I’m going to be putting a lot of miles on the old Silverado. I don’t want you to worry about any of that. I’m going to make it work, no matter what it takes. Okay?”
She nods, and after rinsing her hair for her, I step out of the shower to get two clean towels from the linen cupboard. She twirls her towel into a whip and snaps it at my ass, then sprints out of the bathroom. I chase her, and she squeals as I spin her around and toss her onto the mattress.
Straddling her legs, I tickle her mercilessly. She laughs franticly and squirms, then rips a huge fart. Her face immediately freezes in a horrified, shocked expression, which makes me buckle over in hysterics.
“Oh, my goodness. I want to die.” She covers her face with both hands to hide the embarrassment. I try to stifle my laughter, but it’s not going that well. And she’s completely mortified, so she flips over and crawls under the sheet to hide. “I knew that giant burrito from the taco stand on the side of the road was a mistake,” she says, muffled under the fabric.
I pull the sheet back and kiss her cheek. “Don’t worry about it. You’re dating a cowboy, remember? I rip them way better than that. Especially after I eat eggs.”
She crinkles her nose. “Uck. I smell bad.”
