Sidewalk Flower (18 page)

“I know, Lucky.
 
You’re a good, good man.
 
Too good, probably.”

“No, you wouldn’t say that if you knew…oh
never mind.
 
I better let you get to
sleep.”

“No, I want to know.
 
Please, tell me.”
 
She’d seen remorse like that tinted with a
play of attraction in plenty of guys.
 
Seeing it in Lucky’s baby blues scared her for a second.

“No, Trista.
 
Really, get some rest,” he said while
fighting with his extra pillow.
 
His
fists clenched it to his chest; he stared straight up.

“You want to have sex with me, don’t
you?
 
And you feel bad about it.
 
Well, don’t.
 
I know it’s your way of wanting to make everything go away.
 
I understand.
 
Really, I know a lot about you men.
 
The good and the bad.
 
And what you’re feeling is nothing to be
ashamed of.”

Still without facing her, he spoke to the
ceiling, letting out a self-loathing chant. “Trista, what kind of ass wants
to…make love to their…friend, who went through what you did today?
 
I mean, what kind of ignorant, selfish ass thinks
about that?”

“And, I’m on my period.
 
You forgot about that.”
 
She poked him in the rounded muscle of his
shoulder.

“And that, too.
 
Thanks for reminding me,” he said sullenly.

It had gotten a sort of reluctant smile
out of him.
 
But then he frowned again
and sunk his head further down into a pillow.
 
He shouldn’t be but he was still angry with himself.

“Come here, Lucky.
 
Please.”
 
Once he faced her, she captured him with clear, wide eyes and spoke the
truth, “You don’t want to have sex with me; you want to make love to me.
 
You want to comfort me.
 
Hold me and make sure nothing bad touches me,
at least not tonight.
 
Not right now,
here in this room, with you.
 
Right?”

His brow crinkled and his knees bent
until they made contact with her thighs, like her understanding of his true
intentions had broken him.
 
“Yes.
 
I swear that’s all I want.”

There wasn’t a snuggling position
invented to get her close enough to him.
 
The unmistakable hardness of his erect penis, the one he was so ashamed
of right now, pressed against her tummy.
 
“There is nothing wrong with this, Lucky.
 
It’s beautiful.”
 
She stroked him a few times and heard Lucky
moan low in his throat.
 
“I’d kiss him
right now but I’m—

“Oh no.
No.
 
I don’t expect that, darlin’.”

“I know you don’t.
 
But look at me.
 
I would.
 
I want to.
 
I’m just so wasted
right now.
 
He really is beautiful.”
 
She smiled but even that took too much
energy.
 
She nudged her knee in between
his muscular thighs, attaching herself to him
..
 
They could only have been closer if making
love was an actual possibility that night.
  

“I never felt safer or more comfortable
or more protected than I do right now,” she said through a yawn.

“Good.
 
That makes me happy.
 
Good night,
Trista.”

* * * *

What Lucky really wanted to say was that
he’d fallen in love with her tonight.
 
Instead, he kissed the top of her head and gently stroked her back until
he heard her snore.
 
He reached down and
removed her sweet hand from his cock and kissed it before placing it close to
his heart.

Chapter
Ten

“So where are we headed?
 
I’m hungry.
 
Aren’t you?
 
That beef is starting
to look real good.”
 
Lucky’s stomach
rumbled loudly as they drove past several herds of grazing cattle.
 

“We’re almost there.
 
Just
be
patient.”
 
Trista patted his thigh as she
drove them along historic Route 66.
 
She
had to remember that she had a solid and tall country boy with her who required
regular feeding.

It had to be hard to believe her promises
of food when all they could see in the stretch of road up ahead were more of
the same things they had been passing for the past fifteen miles.
 

Green spring grass grew in patches along
the sides of the historic route, some trees stood here and there that had begun
to get their leaves, a few cows hung out near the rotted, weathered wood of the
fence and a few unfriendly potholes made the roads hell to drive on.
 
It was decidedly country.
 

“Trust me.
 
We’re only a few miles away now.
 
Just keep your eyes on your side of the
road.
 
I don’t want you to miss it.”

“Miss what?”
 
He purposefully watched her instead.

“You’ll see, just watch.”
 
She nudged his cheek back to the right as a
group of motorcyclists passed them going the opposite direction.
 
The tail gunner flashed
her
the
peace sign as they crossed paths.
 
She returned the favor, admiring the blur of patches sewn onto the back
of his black leather vest, a stand-out gold star in the center rimmed by the
numbers, 3-7-8.

Lucky’s stomach gurgled again.
 
“Maybe I can go catch something to eat.”

She shook her head at his hungry
impatience and flicked him in the shoulder, grinning widely.
 
Her country bumpkin had an impressive
appetite.
 
The thought made her mouth
water.

She guessed Lucky wasn’t one to skip
breakfast or wait this long to eat it.
 
It made sense.
 
The work days were
long when you were responsible for your own home and business.
 
Best to start the day fueled up and let the
coffee thermos take care of the rest was what Gramma had always said.
 
She pictured Lucky sipping from a thermos
cup, chopping wood.
  
Yummy.
 

He began an even yummier series of
stretching movements, balling his hands into fists and curling them up to his
shoulders.
 
His elbows jutted out and he
grunted in satisfaction.
  

“Hey, look, you’re gonna miss it.”
 
She’d almost missed it too, watching him.

Lucky sat forward and squinted.
 
She couldn’t help but bite in on her lower
lip as they came closer to the shiny, silver metal of their destination.
 
She had to admit it stuck out like a sore
thumb.
 
Eye sore or not, who wouldn’t
marvel at a fifty-foot tall, gigantic, neon-lit, coke-shaped bottle?
 
With a bendy straw sticking
out the top?

“It’s cool, huh?”
 
Her Kool-Aid smile was in full effect.

“Yeah, but what is it?” he asked, his
eyes not having left the spectacle yet.

“It’s a giant soda bottle.”

“Thank you.
 
I kind of figured that much out.”

“Welcome to Pop’s.”
 
She pulled her Jeep up to an empty fuel
pump.
 
“It’s a gas station slash diner
slash soda pop store.”
 
She dug out her wallet
and was fiddling with extricating her debit card from her driver’s license
while giving the Captain Obvious explanation to Lucky.
 
Man, it felt good.
 
She felt good.

“Hey, put that back.
 
I’ll get it.”
 
Lucky waved a hand in the direction of her fiddling.

He hopped out and made his way to the
cashier inside Pop’s, giving her a chance to admire his Levi jeans and the way
they hugged his butt.
   

Too bad it wasn’t nighttime, but even
without the giant colored LED lights making the bottle glow, it was still
amazing.
 
She wondered what Lucky thought
of the hundreds of brightly colored soda bottles lining the inside walls.
 
And the wall coolers that cased more brands
and flavors of pop than she’d ever imagined existed.
 

At thirteen, she had been
mesmerized.
 
And hadn’t
wanted to leave.
 
At thirty-two,
she wasn’t ashamed to admit this place still brought her the same joy.

Lucky strutted back through the silver
and glass doors.
 
She was waiting
for a thumbs
up to start pumping but her long, lean friend
walked over and took the handle from her.
 
He leaned up against the side of the Jeep and pulled her into him while
the gas pumped.
 

“Wow, now that was a sight to see.
 
Very cool.”
 
The sparkle hadn’t left his eyes.

“Isn’t it though?
 
And did you see that they have a counter and
a kitchen that serves real, hot food?”

“Yes, ma’am.
 
I already know what I’m gettin’.”

His dip back into deeper southern slang
was hot.
 
She remembered how to talk the
talk.
 
“Whatcha gonna order, good
lookin’?”

“Country fried steak, biscuits an’
gravy.
 
Side o’ bacon,
side o’ sausage, order o’ home fries.
 
And a coffee.”

“And let me guess, you’ll take that
black.
 
Geez, that’s a lot of food.”
 

The tip of his tongue made its way to the
corner of his mouth before he spoke.
 
“I’m a big guy, Trista.”

“Yes, you are.”
 
She winked.

The automatic shut-off lever popped out
of place and the clicking sound jerked them from the playful back and
forth.
 
Before he replaced the nozzle,
Lucky leaned down and kissed her.
 
Her
hands fisted themselves in the pockets of her gray and white striped dress and
sheer giddy desire lifted her up onto her tiptoes.
 
For wanting to see Lucky’s face, she opened
her eyes and noticed another car had pulled in.
 
Normally it wouldn’t have mattered but this particular group of citizens
brought out her reluctant side.
 
The new
patrons were a grandma and grandpa.
 

Lucky chuckled.
 
“So you do have some modesty left in
you.
 
Good girl.
 
I knew it was in there somewhere.”

“Lucas Dylan…”

Lucky held his hands up but then reached
down into the left pocket of her dress.
 
He pulled out her keys and kissed on the tip of her nose.

“You go on inside.
 
I’ll park this…sin wagon.”
  

Oh, so he was a Grease fan.
 
She wondered if she reminded him of Sandy
caught between her leather and pom-poms.

“Hey…it’s not a sin wagon, yet.” She made
to swat him on the shoulder but he hopped into the driver’s seat so quickly she
had to step back so he could pull through without getting her toes.
 
With his hair tethered in its usual ponytail,
the lines that formed all the way back to his ear from his wide grin were plain
as day.

She’d show him a sin wagon, one of these days.

“Where do we go from here?”
 
Lucky asked from the driver’s seat.

Here was Amarillo, Texas.
 
They’d left Oklahoma’s red clay and sprawling
rural landscape for the flat northern section of the Lone Star State.
 
The wind howled like crazy and for once she
wished she had something a little sturdier than plastic pull ups for
windows.
 
She should have known her bun
would be the first casualty.
 
As soon as
her crazy curls were free, they took to the wind and flew in a southerly
direction, snapping at Lucky’s cheek.

“Oh crap, I’m sorry.
 
Did I get you?”
 
She was concerned but kept up the fight to
tie her hair back up.
 
Finally after a
few twists and turns, she had almost succeeded.
 
“Sorry, Medusa’s back under wraps.”