Loving Skye: Book Three (The Texas Star Series 3)

by Kelsie Stelting

  Damon gave her directions to his pickup, and then we climbed in the bed of her vehicle, which, unlike her paint, was covered in dirty oil, barbed wire, baling twine, and other junk. We shared a quick look, then sat on the toolbox.

  “Not there!” the lady cried. “You gonna break the hinges!”

  Damon sighed. “Wanna walk?”

  I rolled my eyes and moved to sit on a blazing hot spare tire. Damon settled onto a wheel well, and she took off down the road.

  Finally, finally, finally, we came to the pasture where his pickup waited. The diesel truck had looked pretty good before, but now it looked like heaven. We walked back to it, got in, and he took me to his house.

  Unlike all my imaginings of his place, it wasn’t anything special—kind of like my house actually, except the sink was piled high with dishes and the toilet was gross. Like, there wasn’t anything in it, but it was green. Had he ever heard of a toilet brush?

  Almost fearful of what I’d see, I pulled back the shower curtain. Phew. This didn’t look as bad as the commode. I twisted the knobs until I found a sweet medium between burn-my-hair-off hot and Shelby’s-heart cold water poured out.

  A knock came on the door.

  “I’m decent,” I said. It sounded weird, old, coming out of my mouth.

  Damon walked in, sexy as all get out in his swimming trunks. I wanted to reach up and run my hand over his peck, see how water would flow over each of his ab muscles.

  What would my parents say if they knew I was at his house, alone?

  Nothing good.

  But here I was in his bathroom, steam filling the room, and not just from the shower.

  “What’s up?” I asked.

  He leaned against the doorframe and folded his arms across his chest. “Mind if I join you?”

  I eyed the way his tan arms contrasted his white chest, and even though my mind screamed NO! DANGER! THIS GUY IS WAY TOO HOT FOR YOU, I said yes. “But you have to keep your shorts on.”

  He tilted his head to the side. “You sure?”

  I swallowed, nodded. Just another reminder how far out of my league I was. There needed to be a new term for my level of out of my league.

  We showered together. He rubbed soap in my hair and helped me rinse out my suit. It was strange and weird and sexy and…too much. How could I tell him we needed to slow down? Way down. Like, remedial kissing slow.

  For the first time in my life, I was hoping my parents would help cool things down.

  I helped him pick out a pair of nice jeans and a button-up shirt, then we got in the pickup and drove toward McClellan.

  “Hey,” I said, “do you have any gum?”

  He nodded. “Yeah, there should be some in the glove box.”

  I slid out from under his arm and opened the glove box. I didn’t see the gum right away, so I lifted a few papers, then froze.

  A strip of Trojan condoms rested between the vehicle manual and last year’s insurance. I gripped one end of the blue line and pulled it out. “What are these?”

  Damon glanced at my hands. “They’re not party balloons.”

  Impatient, I sighed. “Damon, what are these?”

  “Condoms,” he said, nonchalant.

  My heart thrummed uneasily. “And what are they doing in your glove box?”

  “I keep some around, just in case.” He slowed down and looked me in the eyes. “Is that okay?”

  I swallowed. Just another reminder of how different we were. Damon was the kind of guy who kept not just one, but several, condoms around “in case.” And me, well, if they hadn’t said Trojan, I might have believed the whole party balloon thing.

  We were close enough to my house, I stayed on the other side of the pickup, but we held hands.

  He pulled alongside the road in front of the house and parked.

  “You ready for this?” I asked.

  He took my chin between his fingers. “I’m ready.”

  The touch sent chills straight to my stomach. Good or bad, I didn’t know. Kids my age had sex all the time, and Damon wasn’t asking me to jump in the sack with him or anything. I shook my head. There would be time to think about this later. For now, we had to deal with my parents.

  We got out and walked to the front door, not holding hands, but brushing fingers. I pulled the door open and stared inside at a face so similar to my own.

  There, sitting on the living room couch between Mom and Dad, was Liz, crying. They had their arms around her, and Mom rubbed Liz’s knee, soothing her.

  I tore my eyes away from the scene to look at Damon’s confused expression, but immediately looked back. “Wha—what’s going on?” I asked.

  Their heads snapped to me, and Mom jumped up, coming toward us. “Oh, honey, I’m sorry. We forgot your friend was coming.”

  This was…strange. Having Liz home must have sent Mom into full-blown codependent mode.

  Damon stepped forward, took off his cowboy hat, and stuck out his hand.

  Mom shook it, and if I wasn’t mistaken, she blushed ever so slightly.

  “Oh my God.” Liz stood up from the couch, looking scary with mascara running down her face. “Damon.”

  His mouth hung slack. “Liz?”

  Chapter Six

  What.

  The.

  Hell.

  Liz turned on Mom and Dad. “This is the guy you’re letting her date?”

  Dad stuttered. “We’re meeting him for the first time tonight.”

  Liz drew herself to her full height. “I hooked up with this scumbag in high school at a party. He’s a player, a loser, and he’s not getting anywhere near my sister.”

  Well, Damon was right. I did look familiar. That was my first thought.

  My second thought? Liz ruins everything.

  “Are you kidding me?” I asked, looking from her to Damon. This had to be some kind of cosmic joke.

  All the color had drained from his face and landed at the back of his very red neck. “It was a long time ago… We were drinking, and...” He sighed. “We didn’t stay in touch. I didn’t even know her last name.” He gulped and met my mom’s eyes. “We were just stupid kids. I’m not like that anymore.”

  Dad stood up from the couch and walked toward us, his face clouded with pure rage.

  I couldn’t breathe. What would Dad do to him?

  Dad stood toe to toe with Damon, and even though Damon was taller, Dad stared him straight in the eyes and made his voice a hiss. “You need to leave.”

  Damon looked at me, his face a battlefield of emotions. I caught regret, shock, and fear, but there had to be more. “Call me when it settles, babe. I’ll explain everything.”

  Dad punched Damon, and the sound crashed through the living room. “Don’t you ever talk to my daughter again. Either one.”

  I gasped. “Dad!”

  Damon steeled his jaw. “Forget it.”

  Then he walked out. And the last thing I saw was his back. But the tears blurred that too.

  I turned to escape to my room, but Dad grabbed my arm. “Sit your ass down.”

  Hatred—no, pure malice—bubbled up until it stung my throat, my eyes, and I ripped my arm out of his hand.

  “Sit down, or I’ll sit you down!” Dad roared.

  Damon’s engine thundered outside and faded into the distance.

  I’d sit down, but I wasn’t going to do it anywhere near him. I went to the opposite side of the living room and dropped onto the floor.

  Dad’s jaw clenched, but he went back to sit beside Liz. The three of them, Dad, Liz, and Mom, looked like the perfect dysfunctional trio, three peas in a horribly misshapen pod. I couldn’t wait until I could get as far away from this mess as possible.

  We all stared at each other for a long while. With each passing second, curiosity battled my anger. After the big blow-up a couple years ago, Liz had promised she’d never come back, never talk to Mom and Dad again. What had happened to bring her back here looking like a tearstained, washed-up mess?

  Cur
iosity won. “What’s going on?”

  Liz looked me in the eyes, and what I saw terrified me. She looked dead, drained, like all the life had left her body. “Things didn’t work out with Dorian.” She choked over her words and collapsed over her knees in a sob.

  Mom rubbed Liz’s shoulder. “Your sister is going to be staying with us for a while until she gets back on her feet.”

  But something didn’t make sense. “How did she get here?”

  “I picked her up in Austin,” Mom said, “at the train station.”

  Okay. “What about Damon?” I asked.

  Dad glared at me.

  I stood up from the floor and glared right back. “If I had to avoid all the guys Liz hooked up with in high school, I’d have a hard time finding anyone.” Tears threatened to fall again, and I took a deep breath. “I’m going to go clean out Liz’s side of the room, and then I’m going on a walk.”

  I kept it together until I entered my room. Were we back at this again? Back at having Dad being violent with my boyfriends? Back at having Liz home, stirring up drama? I felt bad for her, I did, but where was she when I needed her? When I begged her for advice? She’d ignored me ever since she left, and when she wasn’t ignoring me, she was ruining my life, whether she meant to or not.

  I lifted a pile of clean laundry off her bed and dropped it on my own. Then I sorted through her dresser, taking out all my extra stuff I’d stashed there. This was unchartered territory—who knew how long she would be staying with us. From the look in her eyes, she might never leave, might never get that fire back that let her get away from here and never look back. Until, well…

  I forced my mind away from those thoughts. Away from the part of me that worried I might let some guy ruin me the way Dorian had clearly ruined her. If I got out of here, I wasn’t coming back. No matter what.

  I finished cleaning the room, and for the first time, I left through my window. Not to run toward someone, but to get away from three someones.

  I had to put distance between me and this mess. I pounded down the dirt road, thankful that the setting sun had relieved some of the heat from earlier in the day.

  When I got half a mile away from the house, I opened my phone to call Damon, but something stopped me.

  For the last couple of weeks, I’d built him up in my mind as this sexy cowboy with rough hands skilled at more than just farm work. He’d been an amazing distraction from Andrew, a little light of hope in my pathetic love life. But today was…too much. And there was only one person I could think to call and tell about it.

  Andrew.

  Chapter Seven

  The phone rang long enough I thought he wouldn’t answer.

  “Hello?” His voice sounded through the speakers, soft, clear, pure. Clean in a way Damon’s hadn’t been, and I sat down on the gravel road and burst into a fresh round of tears.

  “Skye?”

  I tried to say his name and apologize, but it came out muddled through my sobs.

  “Skye. Are you in trouble?” He was so steady, but forceful in his question. “What’s going on?”

  This was the person I needed in a crisis. I sucked in a rattling breath. “Everything.”

  “Are you safe?”

  “Yes.”

  A relieved sigh came through the phone.

  I picked up some gravel from the road and sifted it through my fingers. No one was coming for miles. All I saw was the wide Texas sky giving way to sunset above me, reflecting the emptiness I felt in my chest.

  “I’ve missed you,” he breathed.

  Warm tears coated my lashes. “I’ve missed you too.”

  He paused. “Skye, I’m worried about you. What’s going on?”

  The earnestness in his tone had me spilling my guts. About Liz, about Damon, about everything. I even told him about Damon’s crusty toilet and the condoms and how everything had been too much.

  He sucked in a sharp breath.

  “What?”

  “Nothing. So where are you now?”

  Was he seriously trying to change the subject now? “Andrew, tell me what.”

  He sighed. “It’s just…that’s what happens when you date older guys.”

  I scowled at the dirt. “Just pour some salt in the wound, why don’t you.” I scrambled to my feet and brushed off the pebbles sticking to my legs. “I called you because I—” My voice cracked. “I thought you would care.”

  “Skye, I—”

  “But apparently I was wrong.”

  I hit the end button and closed my eyes. The sinking feeling in my chest already told me I shouldn’t have been so harsh, but I couldn’t bring myself to apologize.

  My phone rang. Andrew. Calling me back.

  I sent the call to voicemail.

  Andrew: I’m sorry. I was just surprised. Please call me.

  But for whatever reason, I couldn’t. I turned my phone off.

  And then I walked home.

  Chapter Eight

  Liz spent the rest of the weekend in bed, crying, eating only what Mom brought her and forced her to eat. My heart ached for her, but she didn’t talk to me, and I wasn’t going to be the first to budge. I had a heartbreak of my own going on.

  I kept my phone turned off and would have kept laying around myself if I didn’t have a job. One I’d need to get out of there. I got up with the sun Monday morning and drove to the Lanes’ feed yard. Rhett was going to teach me to drive the skidsteer. Whatever that was.

  When I arrived, he was waiting by a tiny little tractor Dad had always called a Bobcat.

  “Morning,” he crooned.

  I groaned. “It’s so early.”

  “Gotta beat the heat, beautiful.”

  “Yeah, yeah.” I rolled my eyes. He was making fun of me. I knew my frizzy hair was already taking on a mind of its own, and I hadn’t bothered with makeup.

  For the rest of the morning, he taught me how to use the little machine to clean pens and make sure the cattle weren’t just walking around in a pile of their own manure. Still, the steers seemed determined to walk to the top of the massive pile of crap I’d built up.

  Rhett came and got me around lunch, and we drove to check cattle while we ate. Part of my pay was getting his mom’s home-cooked meals for lunch and sometimes supper, and it was already my favorite part of the job.

  I bit into the roast beef sandwich on French bread and moaned. “Do we eat like this every day?”

  He laughed. “Most days. She made this one a little special for you, though.”

  “Tell her I love her.”

  A chuckle lifted his chest, and mine too, a little. “I’ll tell her.”

  I took another bite of my sandwich and savored the food. Even just driving a tractor had gotten my appetite up.

  “Sounds like you had a big night,” Rhett said.

  I lifted my eyes from my sandwich. Obviously, he’d spoken with Damon. “So we’re talking about the elephant in the room, then?”

  He shrugged, hands still on the steering wheel. “If you want to.”

  I sighed. “What did Damon tell you?”

  “Basically that your sister slash his ex-one-night-stand was there when he came to meet your parents and your dad hit him like a little bitch.”

  My eyes flew open. “Rhett!”

  He lifted his hands. “That was a direct quote.”

  “So he’s not going to call.”

  Rhett shook his head.

  “I guess that’s good.” I stared out the window, trying to get lost in the scenery instead of my regrets.

  Sometimes, I wished I could be a cow. Just eat all day, hang out with friends, not worry about being fat or good-looking or wearing the perfect clothes for the occasion. But the whole beef-it’s-what’s-for-dinner thing kept me from being too jealous.

  “So,” Rhett said, “it wasn’t working out?”

  I looked back at him and pulled one corner of my mouth back. “It was kind of working out too well, if you know what I mean.”

  “
I’m not sure I follow.” The pickup slowed to a crawl, and he parked on the trail, giving me his full attention.

  “Basically, he’s way more…advanced than I am, and I’m not sure I can keep up—or that I want to.”

  “Ah.” Rhett took a bite of his sandwich and chewed slowly. But that was all he said.

  And I remembered Rhett’s reputation and immediately felt like a little girl sitting next to a man.

  “It’s just.” I sighed, looking at a waving yucca plant. “This is the first time someone’s ever been that interested in me, or that it’s even come close to getting that far.”

  He reached out and rubbed my shoulder. “You shouldn’t go all the way ’til you’re ready. And don’t let some asshole swipe your card before you want him to.”

  I raised my eyebrows. “I thought you guys were friends?”

  “That’s why I’m allowed to call him that.” He smiled. “Seriously, though. Just wait, okay?”

  The look in his eyes had me confused, but I nodded. “Okay.”

  Chapter Nine

  For the next few days, our house was an even less fun place to be than usual. Liz and I stayed on our respective sides of the room in the evenings. And she was devastated, clearly. We didn’t have any family dinners together. Liz even refused to go to work with Dad. The way she was laying around, hardly eating and not talking, had me worried. But she wouldn’t speak to anyone, no matter how much I begged, sweet-talked, or even yelled at her. It scared me.

  Surprisingly, I wasn’t that heartbroken over Damon. Deep down, I knew it wouldn’t last, and there was no way I was coming back from what Dad did to him. Mostly, I missed the chance to be a teen, to go out and have fun and have a guy say all kinds of things about me I’d never dreamed a guy would say. Really, I missed Andrew, but I wasn’t ready to face him yet. I decided to go to bed early, still not texting him. To be fair, I was exhausted from the backbreaking labor I was doing with the Lanes.

  I had looked forward to Saturday all week so I could sleep in, but I woke up at five and couldn’t get back to sleep, so I turned on the lamp and pulled out my journal. Time to get my feelings on the page.