by Jane Anthony
Typing in a quick “good morning” response, I hit send and place the phone back down where it was. Sleeping in my old room is still strange, even though it’s changed a bit since I’ve been gone. Gran ditched the old blue bed linens and added a bold floral pattern to the bed and windows. It’s sunnier in here than I remember, but it could just be my mind playing tricks on me.
The smell of coffee wafts up from the kitchen. My conversations with Austin have been mostly about business, but every now and again, I see the craving swirling in his eyes. I feel it radiating from him, the same way I did all those years ago before he finally gave in and made me his.
Austin never rushed me. He was patient and compassionate. We’d already been dating a year, but he would have gladly waited a lifetime for me.
Once I knew Gran was asleep, I snuck down to his room off the foyer. I watched his shadow pass through the light peeking out from under the door before letting myself in. He looked at me with heated desire, his eyes leaving mine for only the short moment it took me to close the door and turn the latch, locking us in together.
“You need somethin’, baby girl?”
“Yes.”
I wanted to be brave, but my whole body quivered when I dropped my robe. He swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing as his eyes raked over the satin and lace nightie I wore. Up until then, we’d only kissed, but I wanted more. I was seventeen. Still a girl, but head over heels in love with a man I was anxious to please.
“You put this on for me?”
I took a deep breath and nodded before taking a step further. His hand skimmed over my hip and slipped underneath the sheer fabric. “Is this for me, too?” A sharp breath hit my lungs when his fingertip ran across the obvious wet spot in my matching panties.
“If you want it.”
My heart thundered, and my pulse pounded. It was awkward at first. I laid on the bed with damp palms and damp panties, while his gentle kisses covered my body, and his hands roamed to places nobody had ever touched before. The anticipation was killing me. He took his time exploring me, murmuring sweet words in my ear and making sure I really wanted this. It was exhilarating and scary, and I wanted nothing more than for him to hurry up and get started.
“I love you, baby girl. I’m gonna marry you one day,” he whispered as his body invaded mine, slow and deep. Those two adjectives always come to mind when describing Austin. They are fitting in every possible way. His moves, his voice, the way he loves, the way he fucks. Slowly, deeply, with so much power and conviction that it took me over from day one.
“Mornin’.”
Dressed and ready to start the day, I traipse into the kitchen, struck by his size for the fifth morning that week. The flannel shirt sitting pretty on his six-foot frame does nothing to hide the massive homegrown muscle hiding underneath. He doesn’t say anything; just slides a mug of fresh, hot coffee in front of me and stares out the window with his own mug braced between his long fingers. Having lived with Marisa for five years, silent mornings are common for me, but standing next to Austin, the air is thick and heavy, and the quiet is excruciating.
“Whatcha got going on today?” I ask, dragging the conversation out of him.
“Truck ain’t kickin’ over. I gotta do some maintenance on it.” He sips his coffee, still looking out at the pasture as if there’s something interesting to see besides grass.
“I’ll do the mornin’ feedin’ then.”
I drain my mug and rinse it in the sink. Heat hits my back. Flannel tickles my bare shoulder as Austin leans over and drops his cup in front of me, lingering longer than he should. “Somethin’ about the way you smell, baby girl, it’s. . . .” His smooth face brushes over my hair as an ‘mmm’ sound completes his statement, then he’s gone. I’m left at the sink with the same damp palms I had so long ago, missing his warmth and watching the languid way he moves toward the barn.
Once my breath returns to normal, I head out to the stable to water the horses and get them fed. Each horse gets two hay flakes in their feeder, and then I start mixing up the feed. Lined up along the wall of the stable are three thirty-two gallon garbage drums, each one containing a different type. I measure out the powdered bran mash and sweet feed with a three-quart scoop then sprinkle on some Safe Choice supplement, topping it off with a splash of corn oil to keep their coats shiny.
It’s amazing how certain things stick in your mind. I can’t remember the piano lessons I took as a kid and do not remember how to bake a pecan pie without a recipe, but caring for these horses is second nature regardless of my time away.
They whinny and neigh as I fill their troughs with water and pet their soft manes with love. Way back when, we had double what we have now. Gran stopped breeding shortly after Grandpa passed and concentrated on riding lessons and performance training. In order to do that, she also supplemented the income by boarding. Taking care of other people’s horses is a hell of a responsibility, but Gran loved them as if they were her own. She was good like that.
The days are busy, and when I’m not filling them with work, I’m thinking about AJ. I miss his easy smile, his smoky gray eyes, and the way he kisses me. AJ’s adamant about making this work, and I’m giving it a fair shake, but the more I look at Austin, the more at home I feel. He’s more than my ex-lover—he’s a part of my family. A part of me. Being here and working side by side, I’m getting a glimpse of what my life may have been like had I stayed.
I don’t hate it.
“Can I get in there?”
Jamming out to Eric Church on the radio, I turn and see Austin standing the kitchen. A flannel shirt drapes over one broad shoulder, allowing me to see his smooth sun-kissed body. Thick black grease tracks slither up each forearm, and every inch of him glistens with sweat. My breath catches as he comes closer to where I’m standing. My lips part and I realize a split second too late that he’s talking about the sink. He wants to wash up.
“Yeah. Knock yourself out,” I say, swallowing my tongue and smacking the handle on the faucet. Water rushes out, fast and angry, equal to the way my heart beats in my chest.
Turning away, I guzzle my sweet tea, trying to quench the sudden desert in my throat. “How’s the truck?”
“Ain’t lookin’ good. Still can’t get the damn thing to kick over.”
Gray water swirls down the drain as he scrubs his hands clean with Lava soap. He dries them with a length of paper towel then sweeps it over his face and around the back of his hot neck. “So, uh . . . I’m fixin’ to head into town tonight. What’s say you get cleaned up and come on with me?”
He leans his hip against the sink, catching me in his warm brown gaze. Other than our little chat over my turkey sub, this is more talking than Austin has done all week. I don’t know what to say, but when I don’t answer fast enough, he pushes a little harder. “C’mon, baby girl. Live a little.”
His choice of phrases strikes me as funny, and I smile. The irony of Austin telling me to live a little is a bit much. Trying to have a life was what brought us here in the first place. “Where ya headed?”
“Thought we’d jump the county line and hit up Rocky’s.”
My stomach growls at the thought. Rocky’s has the best barbecue this side of Texas. The majority of the meals I had in Jersey were from either a sack or a box. Cowboy-style brisket sounds like heaven right about now. “Yeah, all right.”
Austin smiles as I walk past him to the stairs.
What are you doing? Tell Austin you changed your mind. Lock the door. Call AJ.
I ignore the thoughts running through my head and pull the blue floral dress from my closet. It’s just two friends hanging out like old times. If that were the truth, then why am I stricken with sudden feelings of betrayal?
At the bottom of the stairs, Austin waits for me with a Stetson in one hand and a fist full of wildflowers in the other. The hard lines of his body are obvious under his pressed shirt and clean jeans. He looks good. Too good.
“Damn, baby. I reckon you’r
e as pretty as a bluebonnet.”
The airy material of my dress floats around my knees as I descend the steps, and Austin’s eyes glitter as he watches. I try to smile, but my lips are dry. It’s as if all the moisture in my body has flowed between my legs, leaving everything else as arid as the grass outside my window. I remind myself again that this isn’t a date, but my body and my head are in disagreement.
Rocky’s is hoppin’ this time of night, but we end up finding a small table near the edge of the patio. “I’ll go up. You want the usual?”
I can’t help but smile. Austin and I have spent so much time together, it all blurs into one big pile of years. But it just dawned on me right this second that our first official date was here. I’d ask if he realized that, but the look on his face tells me the answer is yes. Every time we came, I’d get the same thing: brisket, potato salad, and a sweet tea. It tastes so good; I never felt the need to try anything else. If only my love life was as simple as my appetite.
Austin rambles to the counter, dragging my wandering eyes along with him. I shouldn’t be looking at him so hard, and I shouldn’t be enjoying our quiet moments alone this much. But so many snapshots of us are glued to the scrapbook pages of my mind, and it’s making them difficult to turn. They say our memories are more closely linked to our sense of smell than anything else is. Certain aromas have the ability to evoke particular memories. Sitting here, surrounded by the smoky scents of burning mesquite and charred beef, I believe it.
I remember as if it were yesterday. A faded Bruce Springsteen tee tightly covered his slender frame, but I couldn’t stop looking at the hole in his jeans. It wasn’t big, no larger than a dime, but every time he shifted in his seat, a tiny flash of skin would show through. I imagined sticking my finger in the little gap, so I could feel the manly swatch of hair that I knew covered his leg.
That day, when he returned to the table, he sat on the same side as me, not opposite as he is right now. When I questioned him about it, he said, “This way I know you ain’t gonna run away.” He meant it as a joke. We laughed. No one’s laughing anymore.
“What’s on your mind, baby girl? You look a million miles away.”
I look up from my lap and find Austin’s jovial gaze staring at me. The wounded look in his eyes is falling away, leaving nothing in them but hope. I don’t want to lead him on. “Just thinking.”
“About anythin’ good?”
“I don’t know. I haven’t really decided yet.”
“Well, when you figure it out, you be sure to let this ol’ boy know.” He winks and pushes the plate closer to me. “Go on now. Eat up.” He sticks a fork into the blackened beef and offers me the first bite. My lips part; the flavor melts on my tongue and a small moan escapes. My fingertips spring to my wicked mouth. Austin lowers his head, pretending he didn’t notice the unintentionally erotic sound, but I catch him looking up at me through dark lashes with an impish grin.
The rest of dinner is light and fun. Austin tells me all about his family and fills me in on everything I missed. I listen, loving the sound of his voice and watching the crooked way his mouth moves. His top lip lifts just slightly higher on the left than on the right when he speaks. It was always my favorite. I find myself hanging on his words, relishing his company, and not wanting the night to end. However, the sweet smell of tobacco from a nearby table sends a crushing blow to my blissful high. AJ.
This is wrong. We need to go.
“You almost ready to head out?” I ask.
Want flashes in Austin’s eyes for a brief moment before he composes himself and stands from the table. We drive home in silence, but the energy between us reels me in. I’m fighting it as hard as I can, but the set of his jaw tells me he feels it too.
I walk briskly from the car to the safety of the house, but the tip of my boot catches on the threshold of the kitchen door. Austin catches me when I stumble. The warmth of his body against mine sends a bubble of nervous laughter popping from my chest. “There she is,” he drawls, running his fingertip across my jaw. “I knew I’d find her.”
The tiny touch shoots shivers down my arms. He’s close. If I wanted to, I could reach out and pull him against me, cement our lips together, and have him take me right here. Do I want that? I’m buried under a mountain of confusion, fueled by lust and my own guilt for having hurt a man I still have feelings for.
My skin tingles from his touch, but AJ’s face is the one I see when my eyes flutter closed. “I’m seein’ someone.”
His hand drops to his side, but he remains rooted to the floor in front of me. “Him?”
“No. Someone new.”
Austin nods slowly, his lips pressed into a thin line. “You run from him too?”
The jagged teeth slice me deeper as Austin twists the knife a little further into my gut. “That’s not fair.”
“Neither is you runnin’ out on me!” The harsh sound of his voice makes me jump. Austin has never used that tone with me before. He’s always so even-tempered and mild-mannered. “Goddammit!” His fist connects with the counter before he turns, shoving his hands through his short, dark hair. I watch him become unhinged, stalking the kitchen, inwardly talking himself off the ledge.
“You don’t understand!” My voice hitches, and my eyes grow wet. “You were already a grown man ready to start your life. I was only eighteen! Suffocating under the weight of the commitment you needed from me.” Salty tears leak out of my both my eyes, staining my face and falling onto my chest. “I loved you, Austin. But I couldn’t resign myself to this life without seein’ what else was out there!”
“And whaddya find, Case? Somethin’ good out there, worth breakin’ my heart over?”
Goose bumps break out on my flesh. Backed into a corner, I feel like a feral cat ready to pounce. “What do you want me to say, Austin? That I regret it? That I hate my life? That I never should have left, to try to succeed?”
“If you were that unhappy, you should have told me. I’d have waited. Hell, I’ve been waitin’.” He squats down, hanging his head in hands for just a moment before returning to his normal calm state. “I can’t unlove you, Casey Jane. No matter how hard I try.”
Without looking at me again, he rises to his feet and walks away.
CHAPTER 19
AJ
“HI, BABY. DID I wake you?”
“I was dozin’, but I was waitin’ for your call. How was work tonight?” Casey’s sleepy voice dulls the ringing in my ears usually caused by a night at The Wreck.
“Fight broke out. Pretty sure Bits lost his last remaining tooth in battle.”
Her face comes to mind as her giggle chimes through the phone like bells. I see eyes, bright and blue as the summer sky, dimples adorning smooth, creamy skin, and pink lips as plump and sweet as strawberries. I reach into my boxers to adjust the growing erection I get just thinking about her, but my hand lingers. Girl’s got me wound so tight, I’m ready to snap. This long distance shit really puts a damper on a guy’s sex life. I’ve spent far too many nights this month with Rosie Palm and her five sisters.
“You lonely there without me?”
“I wish you could be here.”
“Close your eyes and pretend I’m there. What are you wearing?”
“AJ Morello, you talkin’ dirty to me?”
“Come on, baby, I’m dying over here. Tell me.”
“A tank top and panties.”
My dick twitches in my palm. “What color?”
“Pink,” she purrs, pausing for effect. “Just like the rest of me.”
Every nerve in my body vibrates. Visions of Casey spread out before me wearing nothing but a rosy flush on her perfect skin assault my mind as my hand squeezes the base of my cock. “Take them off.”
She hesitates. “I don’t do . . . that . . . very often.”
She’s so fucking sweet and innocent I can’t help but grin. “Just close your eyes and pretend it’s me.” I hear the rustling of sheets as she shuffles in her bed, carrying out m
y order. “Now, wet your fingers, baby. I know that pretty pussy is dripping for me.”
The faint sounds of shallow breath waft into my ear. “It is.”
“That’s my girl.”
Images swim beneath my pinched eyelids. Casey on her back, her unending legs sprawled wide on either side of me. Her back arched, and her head pressed into the pillow while my greedy hands roam every inch of her. That gorgeous, glistening cunt waiting, wanting. It’s a view I’ll remember until my dying breath. That and the taste of her on my tongue as I lick her into a wild, wet frenzy.
A moan floats into my ear when I tell her in detail the exact picture in my head. “Do you feel me touching you?” Another breathy whimper fucks my eardrum, and my hand picks up the pace. “Do you feel my face buried deep between those sexy thighs? Tonguing the shit out of you?”
Panting. Whimpering. Sighing.
“AJ . . . Oh, shit . . . I wish you were here.”
“I am, baby. I am. Come with me.”
Yelping. Mewling. Moaning.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck . . .”
Catching my wad in my hand, I lie comatose for a second while my brain short circuits. Heavy breathing is all I hear on the other end of the phone. I can visualize her face, and the satisfied, bewildered look that crosses over it moments after she comes, just before her eyes refocus.
The line goes quiet for a moment, and I worry that I lost her. “Case?” Her whimpers continue, but they’re not the same erotic, throaty moans I heard a few moments ago. Her cries of pleasure have turned to sad sobbing. “Baby, what’s wrong?”
“This is so hard.”
“I know. It’s hard for me, too.” I sit up in bed, wiping my soiled hands on my discarded T-shirt.
“It’s not just us. It’s . . . everything. I have no idea what I’m doin’. I’m gonna fail, AJ.”
“Listen to me, Casey. You’re not going to fail. Everything you’re feeling, I’ve felt it too.”
When my dad died, he left me with a mountain of paperwork to go through. Deeds, contracts, bank statements, you name it. Hours and hours, I pored over paperwork I’d never seen and wasn’t quite sure how to even read. It took time, a ton of energy, and more sleepless nights than I ever imagined. At one point, it seemed impossible. I had zero knowledge about running a business, and even less interest, but I not only did it, but I also did it well. Business is thriving, and my old man would be proud.