Cowboys & Kisses (3 page)

“Hungry?” my dad asked as we came down the stairs. I ignored him; he wasn’t talking to me—he didn’t talk to me.

Dax and Wyatt were right behind me. “Starving,” Dax answered.

“Wyatt, is anything open?” my mother asked.

“Yes, ma’am, Peggy’s will be open. It’s mostly burgers, but they’re good.”

Did he just say
ma’am?
He was
so
not my type.

“Care to join us, Wyatt?” my mother asked. “You’ve been such a help today.”

I held my breath.

“No, thank you, Dr. Cooper.”

“Big date?” my dad asked, grinning.

I glanced at my father.
You are such a loser
. I looked at Wyatt then. He had plans, of course he did. Probably a group of redneck friends waiting for him somewhere. And a girlfriend. He had to have a girlfriend. A boots-and-jeans-wearing girlfriend that—

Wyatt shook his head. “No, sir, but…”

“Well then, let’s go.” My dad smiled, trying for the I’m-a-cool-guy thing. I sighed and rolled my eyes.
Oh God.

“Well…” Wyatt glanced at me; I saw him. “Okay. Thank you.” He went out the front door.

“I’ll ride with Wyatt,” Dax offered, following Wyatt out.

Could this day get any longer? I went to the bathroom, ran a brush through my long blond hair, and put on some lip gloss. I frowned at my reflection. It didn’t matter what I looked like. I wasn’t trying to impress anybody. I tugged my hair into a sloppy knot and wiped off the lip gloss, careful with my bum hand. I plugged into my iPod as soon as I climbed into the truck, so there was no mistaking my
don’t talk to me
attitude.

Ten minutes later we were pulling into a very full parking lot. There were more trucks than cars; half of them were jacked up on huge tires, and half of those were covered in layers and layers of dried mud.

Wyatt and Dax got out of a clean white truck, laughing and talking. A clean white truck with three bumper stickers that caught my eye. One was a Trophy Hunter Association sticker; no surprise there. A military sticker: Semper Fi. But the last one? Pink. I read it again: I Support Second Base.

Seriously
? Either he was really into baseball or he was a dick. Was it supposed to be funny? Somehow I hadn’t pegged him as a healthcare advocacy type. So what were the stickers for?

Yep, total prick
.

My dad interrupted my mental tirade. “I remember this place. They have great malts.”

My mother smiled at me, saw my face then turned back to my father. “Sounds good.”

I followed them inside, wishing I was anywhere but here. I knew it was my imagination, but I swear everyone watched us walk in. I let my gaze drift around the room. Families, a few old guys in cowboy hats, and two tables of teenagers.
Great
.

“Sit with us?” Dax asked me. Wyatt’s eyebrows went up in question.

“Us?”

Dax looked pointedly at the tables full of teenagers. “Wyatt’s friends.”

I glanced at Wyatt. He smiled at me, warm-copper eyes waiting.
No thanks, boob boy
. No introductions. No new friends. New house. New room. New school. New life. No more new anything. I shook my head.

Dax looked frustrated. “Come
on.
”

I sighed. “I’m not stopping
you
.”

Wyatt nodded, his grin dimming just a little.

“I’ll order for you?” my mother asked.

I nodded and found us a table, sat in the chair and leaned against the wall. I tore open the white paper straw wrapper and winced, the simple action pulling my stitches.

“How are you feeling?” my mother asked as she joined me at the table. I shrugged.

“I’ll put the screen back on for tonight so we don’t get a bug infestation overnight. We’ll have to see if the hardware store carries glass tomorrow.” My dad dumped some sweetener into his tea without looking up.

I glared at him.
Who are you talking to? The table? Mom? The air?

I stirred my water with the straw.
Hey Dad, I hurt my hand. It was an accident. Mom had to give me stitches. If you care. Which you don’t.

There was a shout of laughter from Dax’s table so I looked over. They were all laughing and smiling. Dax was grinning, which made me want to grin—but I didn’t.

Wyatt’s copper gaze found me. I frowned at him then turned back to my water glass.

“We need to find someone who can help out around the place, Davis.” My mother was looking at her cell phone. “I’ll have to open the clinic no later than Wednesday. And you’ll be flying out on Thursday.”

He was leaving? Of course he was. He always left. That was part of his job: Mr. Corporate Security Investigator. Gone at least three weeks out of the month, longer if his case was Super Important. It didn’t matter we’d moved where
he
wanted to be, were living the life
he
wanted, he still wasn’t planning on being around.

“I’ll ask around at the hardware store in the morning,” Dad answered. “After this month, things won’t be so tough.”

My mother smiled, a real smile, and they stared at each other. It was weird, this new connection between them. I guess it was nice, they were my parents, but it was an adjustment. The last five years, they’d both been so busy with their careers that they were practically single. Now, they were acting like…a couple or team or something. “I can’t wait,” she said softly.

Dad smiled at her, a sweet smile that made his whole face relax.
Huh.
“Me too,” he said.

Her smile grew as she reached across the table, taking his hand in hers.

Okay, enough.
I shook my head. “What’s happening now?” I asked her, curious in spite of myself.

I made the mistake of looking at my dad.
His brows lifted, his hazel gaze darting to me before he stood and made his way to the counter, waiting to collect our food.

Mom watched him, sighed, then said. “He’s cutting back on the travel. Once a month, unless some emergency comes up.”

I blinked. That was…unexpected.

Dad brought the food to our table and the two of them started talking about all the repairs that needed to be done, so I zoned out. I didn’t care. That was their thing. I put my earbuds back in and turned on some music.

I took a bite of the burger. So, one good thing came out of tonight. Awesome burger. I took another bite—at the same time Wyatt looked at me. He smiled.

I took a huge bite, knowing I’d look revolting—but that was the goal. I was really good at pushing people away.

So why was he smiling, with the white teeth and the adorable dimples? Apparently I needed to work harder at making the whole new girl mystique wear off quickly. I didn’t want a thing to do with Wyatt or his dimples.

***

I was exhausted. I couldn’t find my sleeping pills. Without sleeping pills, I dreamed. Dreaming was bad. Dreaming led to nightmares…or memories…whatever… I didn’t get much sleep. But the sun spilled into my room—no curtains or blinds to keep it out.

“Heard you last night,” Dax said from my doorway, tossing two apples back and forth.

I pushed up onto my elbows, not quite awake. “What?”

“Rough night?” he asked.

I yawned. “Kept you up? So you’re here for an apology?”

He shook his head. “You’re
so
rude.” He bit into an apple, adding, “Do you
want
everyone to hate you? Really?”

“I get enough lecturing from Mom and Dad.”

“I’m not lecturing. I’m curious.” He threw an apple to me. “I don’t get it.”

“So?” I flopped back onto the bed. “Feel free to close the door and leave me alone.”

“Allie… There are nice people here, ya know? Would it have killed you to try last night? I mean, Wyatt’s a nice guy.”

“I don’t give a shit.”

“I know you miss Lindie. I miss Lindie too. But she would kick your ass if she saw the way you were acting.”

“Shut up, Dax. Shut. Up.” I stood, the anger appearing so fast I could barely contain it. “
You
don’t know what Lindie would do.” I poked him in the chest, my voice rising. “She was
my
best friend, not yours.” I pushed him back, slamming the door in his face.

“I’m sorry, Allie.” I heard him through the door. “I’m sorry.”

“Go away.” I hit the door, wishing I could hit something more substantial. “Leave. Me. Alone.”

Everyone was
sorry
. I hated that word. It didn’t change anything. It was my fault. All of it was my fault. And now I was stuck,
here
, alone. And Lindie was…

I heard the squeak of the board. He was leaving. He was going. I was alone. No one would bother me or check on me. No one.

I need to get out of here.

No car. No phone. No one to call.

I pulled off my PJs and dug through my suitcase for my running clothes. I dressed, pulled my hair into a ponytail, grabbed my iPod, stopped in the kitchen for a water bottle, and took off.

I ran, letting angry music rage in my ears. Every time I felt winded, I thought of Lindie running beside me—smiling, red-faced, and shaking her head. “Keep up, you pansy.” She’d poke at me until I found the energy to keep going. She knew me, how to keep me going.

And she could
run
. For hours straight and never get tired. She was on the track team, long distance running. She rarely made it off the bench during soccer season, but the coach kept her around because she was a one-woman powerhouse of motivation. She’d get a little too intense if she forgot her ADD meds. That was one of my responsibilities, making sure she remembered them every day.

Thinking about her like this didn’t hurt so much. It was like she was with me, running beside me like she used to. But she wasn’t. And just like that my heart was twisting and my lungs were on fire.

I’m sorry, Lindie. I’m so freaking sorry.

An hour later, I was still running, my lungs desperate for a break. I stopped and pulled off my t-shirt. I was drenched; my sports bra was soaked through. But there wasn’t much of a breeze to cool me off.

I took a long sip of water and leaned against a tree, hoping to get my bearings.
No luck, no idea where I am.
I finished off my water.
I’m screwed.

I pushed off the tree and started back, trying to retrace my steps. It would have helped if I’d been paying attention when I started, but no. All the trees looked the same; so did the cactus. I kept on walking, hoping…searching for some guidepost or landmark. I was going to take a long, cold shower. Maybe take a nap. If I ever reached civilization again.

There was rustling in the trees. Something was there. Every girl-stranded-in-the-woods horror movie sprang to mind. There were
actual
dangers out here, too. Snakes. Javalinas. Coyotes. Turkeys. Foxes. Skunks.

Music?

Music was coming…this way.

I stopped, still very aware that something was lurking in the bushes, and turned. It was the country. I was on my property, wasn’t I? So whoever was coming would not be some cannibalistic chainsaw-wielding serial killer, right?

The rustling in the bushes stopped; maybe
it
was hiding from whatever was coming?

Shit. What’s coming?

Wyatt’s truck was driving across the field, making a beeline straight for me. I stopped, so relieved I almost smiled. Almost.

“Hey.” Wyatt smiled as he pulled up alongside me, all gorgeous.

I glanced down at the sweaty t-shirt I held. I could only imagine what I looked like.
Not that it matters how I look.

“How’d you get out here?” He tipped his beaten up baseball cap back.

I shrugged, trying not to notice how tan his forearm was as he rested it along the open window. “I went for a run.”

He nodded, brown eyes sparkling. “Lost?” His smile was hard to resist.
But I will resist it.

I bit my lip and nodded.

“Need a ride?” he asked.

Now, I
knew
that I did. But I didn’t want his help. I didn’t want to ride in his truck with the boobies sticker on it. “You can point me in the right direction.”

He stared at me for a minute, shook his head, and said, “I was headed to your house.”

“Oh…” I had to go with him, boob stickers and all. What other choice did I have? Let the thing in the bushes get me? My eyes met his.
Holy crap.
“Sure.” I walked around the truck and climbed in.

He waited for me to close the door. “You run every day?” I nodded. “Dax said you’re an athlete.” I glanced at him. “Soccer mostly?” I nodded again. He grinned, shaking his head. “You talk a lot.”

I couldn’t help it. I smiled…and laughed a little too, damn him. His honey-copper warm eyes fixed on my face, making my stomach knot and my heart go crazy.
Wrong. No way. None.

I rolled my eyes and looked out the window. We drove on in silence.

I don’t know why he got to me.
Did
he get to me? No, he didn’t. I was bored. He was there. And, so far, nice. And hot…really, really hot.
Whatever. I don’t like it.
I frowned, thankful he didn’t say anything else.

His truck bounced over a few hills, skidded around a windmill, across a massive field, and through a gate. I saw Dax walking, looking supremely pissed and overheated.
Awesome
.

Wyatt pulled up alongside him. “Hey.”

Dax glared at me, then nodded at Wyatt. “Hey, man.”

“Ready to go?” Wyatt asked.

Dax nodded, opening the passenger door. “Scoot over,” he said.

I could tell he was really mad, so I did, very aware that I was in my sports bra and sweaty…wedged next to Wyatt, feeling dirty and sticky. I prayed I didn’t stink. Because
he
smelled just as good as he looked.
Of course he did
.

“Allie.” Dax sighed and I looked at him. I knew that look—a Dax-sermon was coming.

I held up my hand. “I needed to get out of there. I screwed up. Again. Got it.” I didn’t want to fight, for a change.

“Okay,” Dax murmured, sounding surprised.