My Virgin Cowboy

by Sade Rena

  Parker: “I hadn’t eaten all day and was hoping you may be hungry too. Was considering stopping by Nikki’s and bringing us both dinner. We can eat while we work.”

  Hmm, I mumble to myself.

  Me: “Sure. Same thing we had the other night,” I suggest.

  Parker: “Sounds like a plan to me.”

  Me: “Okay.”

  Parker: “All right. I’m leaving the ranch now. It’ll be about forty-five minutes before I get to you.”

  Me: “Can we make it an hour?” I send but continue.

  Me: “I’m in Bradford with Leah.”

  Parker: “Yeah, that’s fine. How about I meet you at your house in an hour and five minutes? You know, to be a little nice, *winky face emoji*.”

  Me: “Nice, huh?”

  Parker: “Yup, *smiley face emoji*… But, I’ll see you in a little while.”

  Me: “Yes, you will,” I smile.

  Parker: “Renee?”

  Me: “Yes?”

  Parker: “Drive safe for me. Okay?”

  I hover over the keys for a second.

  Me: “I’ll make sure of it.”

  Not waiting for a response, I tuck my phone in my back pocket and pack up my equipment.

  “Where are you going?” Leah asks, returning to our table.

  I glance up at her, still gathering my things. “Parker’s stopping at Nikki’s and is bringing dinner to my house.”

  “Tist tist. You’re already ditching me for some dang-a-lang. Shameful,” she teases.

  “Oh, trick, stop. You were pressing me out to enjoy it a second ago.”

  “I’m messing with you. Drive safe and call me when you get home. Preferably before you climb into bed.”

  I jerk my head in her direction. “I am not going to sleep with him,” I screech.

  “Yeah, okay. Get out of my shop,” she says and walks behind the counter.

  I shake my head with a grin. “I swear you make me sick,” I reply and toss my bag’s straps over my shoulder.

  As I reach the exit, Leah calls out to me. “Aye.”

  I turn with my hand on the door handle. “Yeah.”

  “How does it feel to be a cougar?” she jokes.

  I throw my head back. “I’m a puma, hoe. I’m not over forty,” I say with a dash of attitude.

  Leah cackles behind me, and I shake my head, pushing her silliness aside. I love my girl and would stay a little longer throwing around comebacks with her, but I’m more eager to hurry on to meet Parker.

  Chapter Eight

  Parker

  She had to be waiting by the window for me to arrive. My truck door slams, and there she is, not even giving me a chance to knock. She’s excited to see me. Why else would she be standing in the threshold grinning from ear to ear? It could be the food in my hands, but I hope like hell it’s me that has her this happy.

  Renee steps aside, allowing me to enter. “Hey,” she says as she locks us in.

  “How was your day with Leah?” I ask and make my way into the kitchen to set the bags down on the counters.

  “Crazy as usual. Did you work hard today?”

  “Always.” I turn to face her.

  “We could’ve picked this up over the weekend. When you haven’t been at the ranch all day first,” she offers.

  “And miss seeing the way you light up over a good ole Nikki’s platter.”

  She sucks her teeth and turns away to hide her smile. “Whatever. I did not light up.”

  “Tell that to your cheeks.” I tilt my chin in her direction.

  She chuckles, and the throaty breath she takes behind it drives me a little wild.

  “Besides, it’s the only time I have between the ranch and other projects.”

  “Parker!”

  “Yes?”

  “I wish you told me beforehand. Don’t burn yourself out tryna help me.” The concern in her eyes is genuine.

  “It’s not an issue at all, babe. Let’s eat!” I use my head to wave her over, noting how flustered she is to me calling her that.

  “Shoot. We’ll have to eat standing up. Or we can go to my bedroom,” she blurts out that last bit and instantly stands tall with her eyes wide. “Sorry. I eat upstairs most days, as you can see there’s nowhere to sit down here.”

  I breathe in deep and chuckle. “Standing is fine. But we should think about getting you a dinner table. And some other furniture,” I tease, looking around the space accusingly.

  “Hey, now. I didn’t want to buy stuff until after we fix the house. Plus, it’s only me.”

  “That’s really not healthy for you.”

  “What?”

  “Eating in bed.”

  “Yeah, well, I ain’t dead yet,” she adds while taking her place beside me.

  I dig out each dish. “One meat combo with mustard greens, baked beans, and cornbread.” I pass her a plate.

  “Thank you,” she singsongs and steps around me to peek inside the bag. She pulls out the plastic utensils and tears into the wrapper with her teeth.

  “You’re welcome,” I open my container and take my fork from the bag as well.

  “I’ve actually been thinking about making a trip back to Nikki’s.”

  “Oh yeah? I wonder what gave you that idea?” I joke.

  “Oh, hush. Don’t get cocky.”

  “Never. I’m just a very sure person, darlin’.” My gaze falls on her, lingering a little.

  She blinks and looks away. “Well, decisiveness is a glorious thing.”

  “It is. That’s why I live the way I do. No sense in beating around the bush.”

  She glances at me. “I agree.”

  “So, what about you?” I say before taking a forkful of greens.

  “What do you mean?” She does the same.

  I swallow. “Are you certain in your decisions?”

  “God, no.”

  We laugh.

  “Don’t get me wrong. I get there, but it’s never a straightforward path for me. I weigh every possible solution, outcome, and consequence before doing anything. No matter how bad I want it, I’ll go through the motions a million times before solidifying anything.”

  “Ain’t no fun in that.”

  “Life isn’t all about fun. Some stuff requires more thought.”

  “Fair enough,” I add with a mouthful.

  “You don’t agree?” She digs into her pulled pork, using her fingers to drop a piece in her mouth.

  I bite back a smile. She’s fucking adorable. “No. I never had to think twice about things. I’ve always been sure of what I want and taught to go after them. If something makes sense, I do what’s needed.”

  She huffs. “I wish I could be that—blatant.”

  “Why can’t you be?”

  “Because it’s unrealistic. At least in my world. I mean yeah, you do what you have to, that’s natural. But there are some things you have to weigh. Some plans you can’t just act on because said plans affect other people. Sometimes what you want doesn’t equate to what someone else or even yourself may need.”

  “Where’s the fairness in that? It sho’ ain’t no way to feel all the time. Nothing you want should be that hard to have. The same effort you put out for the benefit of someone else, you gotta do it for you too.”

  Renee drops her gaze, shying away like I inadvertently struck a nerve. But a second later she looks at me again.

  “Everyone’s wise today.” She smirks and pushes her food around with her fork.

  “Who else?”

  “Leah.” She presses a palm into the counter and tilts her head to rest on her shoulder. “She said something to me today along those lines.”

  “Well, babe. Birds of a feather.”

  She chuckles.

  There’s that throaty breath again. I don’t know what it is about her, but even the simplest thing holds my attention. I want to touch her, but I contemplate if I should. Listen at me—debating after telling her how sure I am.

  “Okay. So you’re sure about e
verything, you’re an amazing contractor—” she looks around at the not so attractive state of her kitchen. “A real live cowboy. Young, educated, my best friend’s little brother-”

  “In-law,” I correct.

  “In-law. What am I missing?”

  “Well, you forgot virgin.” I hold up my pinky. “Can’t dance fa’ shit.” I count out another digit.

  “No, come on. You did pretty good.” She clenches her teeth. “To have two left feet,” she plays, drawing out the last of her rebuttal.

  I laugh while picking up a salt packet to throw at her. “So, you’re funny.”

  She dodges me, sending the packet to the floor. “Okay, I surrender.”

  “Dang. That was easy. Gimme a lil’ fight next time, darlin’.”

  She grins. “What were you like as a kid?” she asks, changing the subject.

  I huff. “Wild. If I had a dollar for every time momma nearly pulled her hair out in worry—” I say, but she cuts in.

  “You’d be a rich man. Ha.” She finishes for me.

  I smile and nod.

  “What’s the wildest thing you did when you were little?” she asks and steps toward the fridge, returning with two bottles of water.

  “God, too many things. One time, I let Chance rile me up to smack my horse on his ass because we wanted to see how good I can take a kick.”

  “Wait, excuse me?” She passes me one.

  “We grew up on a ranch. You’re bound to get kicked by an animal, fall off something, or have near-death accidents. But how do you know if you’re resilient enough for this lifestyle? When I was that age, my biggest fear was growing up and not being built like my daddy and brother.”

  “How old were you?”

  “Ten.” I shake my head.

  “So you let an animal with a deadly kick, kick you to prove you were a true rancher?”

  I nod.

  “What happened?”

  “I smacked him on the ass and got the wind knocked out of me,” I note.

  She gasps through her laughter. “Were you hurt? What did your parents say?”

  “Not too bad. Dad saw me and pulled me out of the way. Not before a hoof nicked my side, though. Still got the scar and everything. He just broke the skin; I had to get stitches. Luckily, no other damage.”

  “That is crazy. What is up with boys? It’s like y’all have a death wish or something.”

  “It’s how we are. We do wild shit and live to tell our kids not to.”

  We laugh.

  “What’s your most cherished memory?” I ask while finishing my food.

  “Ah, that’s hard.” She grips the counter and rocks to gather her thoughts. “I was five, and my uncle let me drive on his lap. He was my favorite person.”

  “Was?” I crane my neck to catch a glimpse of her.

  She sighs while pulling her bottom lip into her mouth. “Yeah, he’s passed on,” she adds while crossing her arms to comfort herself.

  “Sorry, you lost him.”

  “It’s okay. It was ages ago, I miss him, but it’s not painful.”

  “That’s good!” I take her hand, squeezing it for support.

  “What was your first kiss like?” She cuts in.

  “The worse. I’m surprised the girl ever talked to me again. We were in the sixth grade, and I liked this girl named Cindy. Chance, Zack, and our other friends, all had claimed they’d kissed a girl and assured me I needed to kiss one too-”

  “Chance seems like a bad influence on you,” she vows, though her tone is light.

  “You don’t know the half. But, it isn’t all bad,” I admit, knowing full well she has no idea I mean her.

  “Well, I bit the po’ girl and put a knot on her forehead.”

  “Ooo. You head-butted her?” She loses the fight with laughter and huddles over.

  “Aw. Don’t laugh. That was by far the most embarrassing moment of my life.” I pause, remembering that point in time has nothing on the most recent sex-related failure.

  Glancing down at my phone on the counter, shocked to see the time. I peek at the window, noticing we’ve lost daylight. Talking with her is effortless. I didn’t even notice how long we’ve been standing here. Neither does she.

  “I can’t be the only one with a bad first kiss. Tell me yours!”

  She clears her throat and takes a sip of water. “Mine is probably more humiliating than yours. I didn’t have my first kiss until I was twenty.”

  “No way! Even I kissed before that.”

  “I’m serious; it scared me. In middle school, we had a pregnant girl, and our computer teacher didn’t appreciate that. So she called herself educating us on all the diseases you can get. And I saw you can catch stuff from kissing.”

  “So, you wouldn’t kiss anybody?”

  “Nope. Not until I had a boyfriend and felt it was my job to kiss him.”

  “When you were twenty?”

  “Yup. I didn’t have relationships in school, so my first real boyfriend came as a young adult.”

  “Wow.”

  “What?”

  “I’m surprised no one wanted to kiss you before then.”

  “I didn’t say that. I just wasn’t kissing them. I had little play boyfriends, but kissing was a big deal, and I wasn’t about to do it. I imagine your decision to wait, went a little like that.”

  “No, it had nothing to do with germs or STD’s. I didn’t want to be like my friends. They were all so eager to bed a girl first. My momma and dad have a great love. It helped me know exactly what I wanted when I got older. So, I didn’t want to do it, just to do it. I want to enjoy it with a girl I loved the same way my dad loves my momma. My friends and other kids didn’t understand, but then I met Madison, and she felt the same. So I guess it was a lot easier to fight temptation when I had someone who wasn’t determined to be like everyone else.”

  “That makes sense.” She nods.

  “But you grew out of yours. You kissed me,” I brag.

  She smiles gingerly. “I did outgrow it. Though I am very selective in who—I put my mouth on.”

  Something takes over me at the sound of her words, and I inch closer, mending the distance between us. Her breath hitches, but her gaze doesn’t falter. I want to taste her lips, but I won’t until she asks me to. And I hope she does, because dammit, I need her to ask.

  Both of our chests rise at the same pace. I don’t think she notices it, but she leans closer to me. Not on purpose. Almost like it’s her body telling her she should. I lift my hand to the side of her face, pushing a lock of curls behind her ear. Her cheek presses into my palm, and I run my thumb along the bone. I snake my fingers to the nape of her neck and slide closer. There’s not a lick of space left between us, but I do it anyway. Her eyes find me as I lean down to take her mouth. But her phone rings from the other room, interrupting our moment.

  She shies away. “Maybe we should get some work done.”

  I clear my throat and reach for my drink. “Yeah. It’s already dark out.”

  Renee walks to the other side of the kitchen for the work gloves I gave her on our first demo day. I smile inwardly and do the same before instructing her on the next part of the process.

  Chapter Nine

  Renee

  “Vann’s? Okay!” I say enthusiastically.

  “What? You think cus’ I’ma rancher, I don’t wear sneakers,” he teases through that dimpled grin of his, playfully bumping shoulders with me.

  “No—you can,” I stutter and smile in surrender. My cheeks heat when he smiles back at me, and my steps waiver as I sway alongside him.

  We turn a corner, and he reaches out in front of us to guide me into our destination. My ears bloat from the change in air pressure from the booming sound system, while my eyes readjust to the dimmer lights. I follow the length of the shadowed walkway with Parker close behind me. So close, I feel his thick thighs up against the back of mine with each forward stride.

  Our path is relit when we reach the center of the
ranch house, where the party seems to be happening. Parker moves up next to me, his fingers brushing against mine as he braces himself for an incoming greeting. He hugs a friend who shifts on his heels to walk next to us while we head further inside.

  The guy pats his back before stepping off and pointing at the victim of his next drunken conversation. Parker glances to me, smiling and looking me over, using his eyes to ask if I’m all right. I nod, the corners of my mouth lifting to telepathically tell him I’m fine. He tilts his head in understanding and reaches to take my hand. My gaze falls to our grasp as he leads me into a piece of his world.

  The music’s volume rises, and so does the pressure in my ears, making the beat sound more like a distant hum. He turns, grabbing me by both hands and pulling me on to the dance floor. He smiles, his cheeks touching his eyes when he brings me close.

  I rock into him while glancing around my surroundings. My eyebrows raise when I’m hit with the realization this is everything I missed out on when I was college-age. And I’m suddenly reminded of not only our age-gap, but the cultural differences.

  I push on a smile and let go of my thoughts to enjoy being in the time with him as he goes about his normal life. Because being here, even if it’s only for the moment or just an experiment—makes me want to be a part of his world.

  A chill runs through me, and I shiver at the irony of me buzzing from the thought of my world colliding with anyone else’s. After what I’ve been through, I never wanted to be in this position again. I shake off the eerie feeling and will myself to open up to the moment.

  The music takes me, and I tune out all the youngins’ around me, envisioning only the two of us. There’s a great rotation of songs stretching across genres. Not at all what you’d expect when you think about your typical country, small-town boy experience of tight flannel button-ups and country music. But instead, it’s your good ole,—I’m just living my best life in twenty-twenty vibe. And just like that, I feel bad for mentally stereotyping this whole thing.

  Parker pulls me from the dance floor towards the kitchen, where he hands me a Michelob Ultra and himself a Bud Light. Not slowing one bit as we exit the other side to a beautiful farm-style backyard.