“Hey, hey, baby, what’s wrong? What just happened?” I’m confused; the emotional whiplash unsettles me but I will find out why she turned inward so quickly.
“It’s just—just that—this can’t be real, can it, Cash?” The hitch in her voice nearly knocks me down, my heart breaking for this beautiful girl and her sadness.
“Of course it can.” I hold her face, keeping her eyes on mine. “This is the most real thing I think has ever happened to me. I know we just met and it’s new, but this,” I gesture between us, “is real, Hurricane. I want to know what happens next. Don’t shut me out. Let me in.” I lay a hand on her heart, begging her with my eyes.
“No man has ever made me feel the way I have felt in the last week. This town feels right.” She puts her own hand against my heart. “This feels right. But,” her face crumbles and tears run down her cheeks, “I’m not good enough for you, Cash. Look at me.”
“I am looking at you, Callie. And I have never seen anything more beautiful in my life.” I wipe her tears away. “I don’t know who did this to you, but whoever it was, he didn’t deserve you. Hell, I don’t think I deserve you, gorgeous gorgeous girl.” Planting a small, chaste kiss to her wet lips, I pull her to me until she’s pressed against my chest, and I can feel her heart beating a rapid rhythm.
At exactly the wrong, or maybe right, moment, Tank pads into the kitchen and sees us hugging, deciding he is not going to miss out on the action. Nosing between us, he presses against our legs. Callie reaches down and strokes his head, a teary, wet laugh escaping.
“Where is the bathroom?” she asks me, pulling away. I point her to the door off the kitchen that leads to the laundry room with the downstairs bathroom inside.
As she disappears, I look down at Tank, rubbing between his ears, and ask him “Should we keep her, boy?” Looking up at me, he just thumps his tail on the floor.
I take it as a yes anyway.
Chapter 14
Shotgun Rider
Callie
My phone vibrating on the table next to the bed wakes me, bright and early, Thursday morning. Groaning, I glance at the clock and see it’s barely seven. Must be an early rising cowboy. I blindly swat my hand and feel around for the phone before lifting it close to my face.
Grumpy Not-Cowboy
Wanna go fishing?
What the hell?
Grumpy. It’s 7:03 AM. As in IN THE MORNING. I need my beauty sleep. I’m going to change your name from Grumpy to Sadist.
Grumpy Not-Cowboy
You’re beautiful, enough. Calling me a sadist seems a bit of an overreaction. I guess I’ll go spend my day on the lake all alone.
I’m coming.
Grumpy Not-Cowboy
That’s what I like to hear.
Was that a sex comment or am I reading way too much into this? I’m kind of excited to find out if there is more to Duke than what I’ve seen so far.
Twenty minutes later, I have my hair in French braids and wear biker shorts and an oversized t-shirt that falls to my mid-thighs, and sandals. I run down the porch steps and practically skid to a stop in front of Duke’s old truck. Today it pulls a tiny fishing boat barely large enough for two people.
The door on the old truck creaks as I pull it open before sliding into the cab and smiling widely. I get a small smile in return. Leaning over, I press my lips to his cheek in a chaste kiss which earns me a larger, toothier, grin.
“Good morning, Sunshine. I see you recovered from my early morning disruption of your sleep.”
“Fortunately for you, I have.”
Pulling away from the curb, we ride with the wind and the radio as our soundtrack, his large hand gripping mine on the seat between us.
Duke maneuvers the boat expertly down the ramp and into the lake when we arrive. He fills the boat with a cooler from the bed as well as a few fishing poles and a tackle box. I lean against the truck, watching him. He moves confidently, as though this is a regular pastime for him, and I get a little thrill that he thought to invite me. I’m not much of a fisher, but being here with him means a lot more than a proper date anywhere else.
“Come on, sweetheart. I’ll help you climb in.” Taking my hand, he pulls me against him, kissing me gently before lifting me by my waist and depositing me into the tiny boat, the watersloshing around us before he follows behind me. He wears a lightweight t-shirt today, his strong arms on display and a pair of swim trunks, which makes sense. I’m distracted by his pale legs that don’t look like they see the sun much. Boating shoes are on his feet. This Duke is so much different than I usually see. I’m fascinated.
