“He wasn’t as real as you,” she replies, but I refuse to feel bad over what happened all those years ago. My dad wouldn’t have killed a child, though it’s not to say someone close to her wouldn’t have been hurt. “Besides, I can protect myself.”
“Yeah, by hanging out with senior citizens at the VFW?”
She looks downward, hiding her eyes from me again and bites her bottom lip.
“I’m doing alright,” she answers with a shrug.
Leaning down, I pause a breath away from her lips. “That isn’t good enough. Not for you.”
Figuring she would have pushed me away if she objected to my presence, I’m just about kiss her when Margo closes the slight distance between us. Her supple lips press firmly against mine, and I hold still, letting her take control. At least until the second she nibbles on my bottom lip, that’s when I know I’m done.
The only thought going through my head when I thrust my tongue into her mouth, swirling it around hers, is how soon I can get a property cut on her. There’s a nagging voice in the back of my mind, telling me to slow my ass down, that there’s too much I don’t know about her.
It’s just that my cock and my heart are beating in unison, outweighing the logical voice.
Sliding my hand up from her hip, I cup her breast and lightly massage it; this is something I started doing in high school, trying to figure out how much padding the chick’s bra has versus her own and I grin, pleased with the knowledge that her breasts are very full and all natural.
That’s when there’s a knock at my window. Opening my eyes, I notice the flashing lights behind me before looking to my left and rolling down my window.
“Evening, Bull,” one of the local deputies says, acknowledging that he knows who I am as he studiously keeps his eyes on me and not the woman in my arms. “We had a report of a disabled vehicle. Is everything alright?”
“What’s your name?”
“Vargas,” he replies, finally pulling his eyes from me when Margo moves back into her seat.
“That’s right. Sorry for the trouble, we just needed to get something sorted out,” I tell him, and his lips tighten as he studies Margo.
“Is everything sorted out, Miss?” he asks, emphasizing the last word as he notices that she’s a bit younger than both of us.
“Yes, sir. Thank you for checking on me.” Her sincerity rings through, and I wonder how the cops down in Oklahoma dealt with her ex.
“May I see your ID?” he asks her, grating on my patience.
“Oh, y’know, I just have a paper one. I’m new to the area,” she says, reaching into her pocket for her phone and opening the back flap attached to the case. “Crap. I don’t have it in here. Could you look it up in your system? My name is Margo Tucker and I work for the town of Clear Creek. They did a full check on me during the hiring process, so it should be easy for you to find me.”
“Yeah? What do you do for them?”
“I drive the snowplow, it’s been a busy few weeks, I’ll tell ya,” she replies, leaning into her drawl.
“The snowplow?” Honestly, from the look on his face and how his jaw dropped open, I’m surprised he even got those words out.
“Count yourself lucky you live down here,” I mock whisper to him. “She’s taken out most of the mailboxes around town.”
“Hey!” she exclaims, smacking my arm. “Your driveway is on a curve, it’s really tricky.”
Vargas’ demeaner has done a one-eighty and instead of his expression of concern for her, I can see I have him firmly in my court now as he tries not to laugh at us. “I’ll just wait for you to get moving then.”
We’re mostly quiet as I drive the next thirty minutes it takes to get to the clubhouse, but instead of heading in the front door, I lead her up the private stairs that go to the back entrance of my room here.
“It’s cozy,” she says, taking in the space after I’ve turned on the light.
I’m in no mood for small talk, but when I see her crossing directly to one of my mother’s paintings, I give her a moment to study it.
“Is that you?”
She’s pointing at a little boy with curly brown hair that nearly reaches his shoulders on a beach I’ve never been to. He’s about to skip a stone as his mother—my mother—watches him and the sunset from a few feet away.
I nod, not trusting my voice past the knot that has formed in my throat.
