by Virna DePaul
Lexi’s smile faded when she pictured the last time she’d seen her father. Smiling as always, but aging far too fast. He was getting older, and he should have already retired from the rodeo life. But he couldn’t. Didn’t have any other skills to make a living. And Lexi certainly didn’t have the money to help. Not yet. Soon, however. Soon she’d write that screenplay, fulfilling her dreams and helping her father at the same time. Giving him an easier life, for once.
Or so she hoped.
God, she loved her father. He had given up everything for her, and she didn’t take that for granted. He was her favorite person in the world. Being with him made her smile. As did being with another man…
The image of her father faded away and an image of Eric took his place.
Lord, she couldn’t deny that Eric had pretty much fucked a feeling right into her. Some light, slick bubble that was lodged in her chest and wouldn’t pop no matter what she did. And that was just something she was going to have to ignore. Because she wasn’t looking to settle down. Not now. And not ever with a ranch owner in Montana.
When she finally did settle down, after fulfilling her screenwriting dreams, she’d settle with a world-wise L.A. man, maybe a writer himself. He’d know the right people and take her to hole-in-the-wall restaurants where they served authentic food she’d never even heard of. Maybe her dream guy would surf and play the acoustic guitar in the mornings with his feet up on their kitchen table while she drank a cup of coffee and got started on writing. And her father would live close so she could visit him and treat him to little luxuries now and again.
Good movies. Good food.
Good times.
Yeah. That was the life she wanted. She’d grown up with wrangler men. Worn jeans, a week’s worth of stubble, a can of Skoal in the back pocket. She knew those men. Men who partied hard, dreamed about things they’d never shoot for and who could calm a nervous filly with just a hand across her mane. Those men were appealing, sure. Nothing sexier than a man in a tight T-shirt and worn jeans. But, Lexi reminded herself, they weren’t just made of quicksand, they were stuck in the quicksand themselves.
Something about Eric had seemed different, though, which was why she’d accepted a job from him. Still he wasn’t different enough for her to accept a relationship from him. No sir.
“Lexi?” a woman’s voice called out as the front door slammed shut.
“In here!” Lexi shouted back, swinging her feet off the edge of the bed and sitting up.
Marina appeared in the doorway and Lexi cocked her head to one side as she studied the other woman. In the bar, with her bartender apron on and things balancing in her hands, Marina had looked like somebody’s little sister, filling in for the night. But here, in the light of day, with her thin sweater and perfectly tailored slacks, holding her own fingers delicately in front of her, Marina looked positively transparent. Like a puff of twisting cumulous cloud that might just get blown away in the wind.
Every feature on her was lighter than the next. Her toffee-colored hair just dusted her shoulders, and eyes that Lexi supposed were hazel seemed practically clear in her light fringe of eyelashes. Her nose was small and shapely and her lips, unpainted, were almost the same color as her skin. She was pretty, Lexi realized, but doing her absolute best to be invisible.
“Do you like your room?” Marina asked in a quiet, musical voice.
Lexi nodded her head, bouncing up and down on the mattress for a quick second. “Comfortable, clean, what’s not to like?”
“Good.” Marina glanced down at her fingers and then back up at Lexi. “I’m so sorry about something.”
Crap. She was getting kicked out already. “What’s that?”
Looking like she’d just robbed a bank, Marina twisted her fingers. “I totally forgot to tell you about something and it’s totally fine if it means you don’t want to live here anymore. I’ve been getting by alright on the rent. And of course I’ll give you your deposit right back and—”
“Spit it out, Marina.” Lexi knew her tone of voice was bordering on rude, but this woman was apologizing herself into an early grave and Lexi needed this band aid to be ripped off, like, yesterday.
Marina worried her lip between her teeth. “I forgot to tell you about Tulip.”
Lexi raised an eyebrow. “You have a tulip garden? Why would that make me not want to live here?”
“No.” Marina shook her head, so solemn. “My dog, Tulip.”
She moved to one side and a big pink nose nudged in next to her knee. The next second, the grinning face of a huge pit bull peeked in at Lexi.
Lexi let out a little yelp of delight and instantly plopped down onto the ground, making kissing noises and holding her hand out for the dog. Tulip’s nails tick-tick-ticked across the floor as she skittered over to plop onto her haunches at Lexi’s side. Her pink tongue lolled to one side out of her bony skull as she sat patiently.
Lexi let the dog smell her and then traced her hands over her head and down her bony body. “Well, aren’t you a beautiful girl,” she cooed scratching at the gingery gold patch of fur over Tulip’s right eye.
“Boy,” Marina corrected. “Tulip’s a boy.”
Lexi let out an appreciative laugh. “Oops. I guess a dog doesn’t much care what his name is, huh?”
“Can I come in?” Marina asked.
Lexi looked up, confused. “‘Course.”
Marina took some careful steps through the door and laid her hand on Tulip’s head. Tulip instantly leaned his tremendous weight on Marina’s leg.
“I renamed him Tulip when I rescued him,” Marina said. “Because I know how scared people can be of pit bulls. I thought if he had a sweet name…”
“Who could be scared of this guy?” Lexi asked as she found Tulip’s magic spot, the one that made his leg kick-kick-kick.
“My thoughts exactly.” Marina took a deep breath. “He’s a comfort dog. For me.”
“Oh,” Lexi snapped her hands back. “So that means I’m not supposed to touch him, right?”
“It’s okay. He’s not a service dog,” Marina said. “I just, I struggle with anxiety and…” Another deep breath. “PTSD. And a doctor recommended that I find an animal who can help me with those feelings.”
Of course, Lexi immediately wanted to ask Marina why she suffered PTSD, but she stifled the urge. She needed to earn the right to ask. Maybe they’d become friends and she could ask someday. Maybe she could even help Marina somehow. But then she reminded herself: Quicksand.
She wouldn’t be here long enough to do any of that. And though that made her sad, she needed to accept it.
“Um, does Tulip leave the house with you?” she asked.
“Most of the time. He stays in the back room at the bar. Snoozing and sneaking treats from the line cooks.”
Lexi grinned. “Ok, cool. Well, I don’t want to step on your toes, but if you ever need somebody to let him out or walk him or something, I’m your girl. I love dogs.”
“That’s nice. Thank you,” Marina said.
Lexi rose and realized just how much taller she was than Marina now that they were standing next to one another.
“So, uh,” Lexi cleared her throat. “Thanks for letting me crash here.”
“I’m grateful for the company, honestly. And for the help with the rent. This place was my father’s house, before he had to go to a nursing home over in Jacksonville. And I have trouble with the mortgage some months. You hungry? I just picked up some groceries. I was going to make something before I head over to the bar.”
“Sure.” Lexi looked at the time on her phone. Wow. It was already almost five o’clock. The day had slipped away from her. “That sounds great.”
Lexi helped Marina unpack the groceries while Tulip was belly up on the kitchen floor. Lexi couldn’t help but smile every time she had to step over him. The two of them ate their sandwiches in relative silence at the breakfast bar. Lexi looking around, trying to get a feel for the house.
Marina
ate slowly and methodically, then immediately stood to wash and dry her plate. “Well, I need to change and head out to the bar now,” Marina said. “If you want to come by, you can have some free drinks. To celebrate your move?”
Lexi could tell the invitation, like most of what she did, made Marina nervous. She was like a pile of leaves and the world was a leaf blower. “How about tomorrow night? I want to be fresh for my first day of work tomorrow.”
“Oh, right. I forgot Eric said you were working at the hardware store now.”
Lexi stood, cleared her own plate and washed it. “How long have you known Eric?” she asked, trying to be casual.
“Since we were four or five. He’s spent every summer here with his grandparents since around then.”
“And then he’d go back to California?”
“Yup,” Marina’s eyes warmed. “I remember the Thanksgiving break that the boys visited him in L.A. Jake, his brother, Dean, and, um, Dylan.” Her cheeks pinked at Dylan’s name. “They came back with shell necklaces and sunburns and thought they could suddenly pull off words like ‘gnarly’ and ‘radical’.”
Lexi grinned. “How’d that go over in Montana?”
Marina grinned back. “Let’s just say it didn’t last long.”
Chapter Five
Eric raked his hand through his hair and fiddled with the boxes of key chains next to the cash register. He was waiting for Lexi to arrive for her first day of work at the hardware store. Why the hell was he so nervous?
They’d already slept together for fuck’s sake. What was there to be nervous about? Still, he was pretty sure he’d rearranged the check-out counter five times before her car finally pulled into the parking lot.
He winced at the rattling sound of her old Honda Civic. There was no way in hell that thing could be safe. Maybe there was some way he could talk her into taking a car? A safer one? Maybe one with the hardware store logo on the side. He could tell her it was part of the employee package or something.
Yeah. Like there was any way that she would ever buy that crap. She was already half convinced that he was trying to make her into a ‘kept’ woman. Forcing a nicer car on her would be tantamount to buying her lingerie at this point. He was giving her a job and a little stability for the summer. That was just going to have to be enough.
His breath caught in his chest as she got out of her car then almost immediately turned and climbed back inside again.
What the hell. She was ditching?
She climbed out of her car. Walked about half-way to the front entrance. Only to turn and slink back to her car.
Eric walked to the door, ready to go after her, but then she jumped out of her car, slammed the door shut decisively and headed his way. The bell over the door dinged and she pulled up short as she saw him standing there, hands in his pockets.
They eyed one another, and Eric had to push down the impulse to close the distance between them and take her in his arms.
Shit. Maintaining a professional air between them was going to be harder than he’d anticipated.
“Hey Boss,” she finally said, rocking back on her heels and tucking her hands into the pockets of her jeans. A nicer pair than she’d worn to the bar the other night.
He grimaced. “Eric’s fine still.”
“Sure. I, uh, wasn’t sure what to wear.”
He couldn’t resist scanning her body, taking in her tight T-shirt, perfectly fitted jeans, and the way her hair fell all the way down to her elbows. God. Even her scuffed up Chuck Taylors were giving him a halfie. He needed to get himself under control.
Clearing his throat, Eric gestured to himself. “Jeans are fine. It’s a hardware store after all. And I have a T-shirt for you.” He pointed to his own forest green company shirt, emblazoned with Iris Hardware. “Iris is my grandmother’s name.”
Lexi’s eyes involuntarily softened. “Your grandfather named the store after her?”
“No,” Eric laughed even as he strode behind the counter and pulled out her T-shirt. “She named it after herself. She’s a toughie. Trust me. Takes what she wants and doesn’t wait around for handouts.”
“Sounds like my kind of girl,” Lexi said, reaching out for the shirt and pulling it over the one she already wore.
It fit her like a glove and Eric did his best to roll his tongue back into his mouth as she flipped her glossy blonde hair out from under the collar.
“Want the grand tour?” he cleared his throat again. He was going to have to start bringing cough drops to work if they were going to be working side by side.
He showed her around the store and was pleased and relieved that she knew the names and uses of almost all the tools. He even ran a few potential customer scenarios past her and she showed a workable knowledge of how to fix all the fictional problems.
“Anything I don’t know, I can just google, right?” she asked him, nodding her head at the old desktop behind the register.
“Sure, or ask me. Although, I probably won’t be here most of the time.”
“Alright.” She ducked her head and looked out onto the street. “Looks like you got a delivery. I’ll handle it,” she said and jogged out the door before he could.
Eric watched her and rubbed the back of his neck. God, he liked her. He was attracted to her. She was the hottest sex he’d ever had. Now he had to come to terms with the fact that in order to help her, he wasn’t going to be able to touch her again.
Kiss her again.
Go down on her again.
Fuck her again.
Damn it! Eric groaned and reached for his cup of cooling coffee on the counter.
Lexi laughed at something the Fed Ex man said outside. Eric watched the man watch Lexi’s lush ass as she bent over to pick up the package. Eric’s hand tightened on the cup of coffee instead of doing what he wanted to do, which was punch the poor Fed Ex man in the face.
The bell above the door rang again and Lexi shouldered her way inside, the box in her hands.
“I’ll unload this,” she called to him, already tearing the tape off the box.
“You had breakfast yet?” he asked, coming around the counter.
Lexi glanced up, surprised, her eyes narrowing just a little. “Yeah. Marina made pancakes this morning and shared some with me.”
Eric’s eyes widened as he checked the wall clock. “Marina was up early enough to make you pancakes before work? She must have been at the bar until at least 2:30. That’s less than 5 hours of sleep.”
“Oh that’s not good. Maybe she couldn’t sleep?”
Eric’s brow furrowed. He hadn’t been here when things had gone south for Marina. He’d still been in L.A. And a lot of years had passed since then. She was leaps and bounds better than she used to be. Still, if she was having trouble sleeping, that wasn’t a good sign. He made a mental note to check in with her. Maybe ask Dylan about it.
The bell over the door rang and distracted him from his thoughts.
“Morning, Mrs. Gunderson,” he said as the older, chubby woman strode in like she owned the place. She was his grandmother’s best friend and Eric knew she’d taken it upon herself to make sure he didn’t run the store into the ground while Iris was on vacation.
“Mornin’, boy,” she said, fanning herself in the automatic gesture of a woman who knows how to weather heat the old fashioned way. “You got any more of that coffee back there?”
“Of course, ma’am.” Eric tried not to sigh. He liked Mrs. Gunderson. He really did. Grew up with her as a member of the family. But getting her a cup of coffee meant she was going to stay and chat awhile. And she was infamous for having eyes like a hawk. He didn’t particularly care to be observed around Lexi right now.
“Oh! Child, you scared me,” Mrs. Gunderson hooted as Lexi emerged from an aisle in the store, breaking down the box she’d just finished unloading.
She stepped forward with her hand out. “Sorry about that. Lexi Fischer.”
“Cheryl Gunderson.” Mrs. Gunderson held Lexi’s hand
for just a moment while she eyed her shrewdly. “Well, aren’t you an interesting creature.”
Lexi raised one eyebrow at the older woman, obviously unsure what to make of her old-fashioned flower print dress, the feathered 1980s hair, or the ancient pair of cowboy boots. Or more likely, she probably wasn’t sure how she felt about being called a creature.
“Not much girl in there, but pretty just the same,” Mrs. Gunderson said, observing Lexi as she accepted the cup of coffee from Eric.
Lexi’s eyebrow raised even further. “Uh—”
“What you know about horses, child?” Mrs. Gunderson asked as she leaned forward and squinted at one of the little silver rings that Lexi wore. Eric hadn’t noticed before that it was shaped like a horse.
He shook his head at Mrs. Gunderson. Pushing 75 years old and eyes like a hawk.
Lexi straightened her shoulders and stared Mrs. Gunderson right in the eye. “I know enough.”
“I suppose you learned about horses at one of them summer camps, huh? The kind with the funny hats and the polo playing.”
Lexi blinked her eyes slowly and when she spoke, she was damn near matching the slow country drawl that was like syrup oozing from Mrs. Gunderson’s mouth. Eric wondered if she was doing it on purpose or if it came naturally.
“No ma’am. I grew up on the rodeo circuit.”
“Is that right?” She’d caught Mrs. Gunderson’s attention. And Eric’s. “And what was your event?”
“Ropin’ and racin’. Mutton bustin' as a kid of course.”
Eric tried to keep his jaw from falling open. She’d grown up in the rodeo scene? Who was this woman? And why was he starving for information about her? Everything he learned just made him want to learn more.
Now Mrs. Gunderson had a look in her eye like she was trying to swallow down a similar interest. “I did a bit of rodeo as a girl, myself.” She raised her painted eyebrows. “Ain’t no easy world for a woman.”