by Alison Bliss
About five feet away, lurking in the shadows, stood a dark-skinned man with long black hair. He stared back at me, piercing me with his intense golden eyes. The frown he wore turned into more of a sneer. I gasped.
Then he reached for me.
I didn’t even have a chance to run before the stars in the night sky swirled in my vision and the darkness overtook me.
The repetitious scratching irritated me, but it was the sulfuric odor that had awakened my senses. He was here. I could feel him beside me, even if I couldn’t see him. I blinked in the dark, searching for his figure, but was unable to find him. The scratching sounded again and fire exploded in front of my face in the form of a lit match.
A familiar fear rushed through my veins as the flame was extinguished with one alcohol-infused breath. The same breath I remembered from my earliest childhood memories. But was he gone?
No, he was still here. Always here.
When a man’s voice called out my name, I shot straight up. My eyes widened and swept the dark room, searching for two men: the dark-skinned man with the golden eyes and the man who had a starring role in my usual recurring nightmare. But they were nowhere to be found.
It wasn’t the first time I’d awoken in a panic and wondered if what I’d seen in my vision was real. Yet this time was different. The dark-skinned man on the porch had never been a part of my dreams before.
I shivered, although my bedspread covered me to my waist. As the terrifying images trapped inside my head replayed, my heart raced and tears pricked my eyes. I took shallow breaths to calm myself and shook my head. “It couldn’t have been a dream,” I said out loud, trying to convince myself I wasn’t crazy.
Yet, there I was, in my moonlit bedroom…alone.
Chapter Thirteen
After a long, mostly sleepless night, I’d finally resigned myself to seeing the date through. I wasn’t sure exactly how well the night with Cowboy would go, but I needed to do this for myself. Too many times I longed for a man to find me desirable and treat me as he would any woman. I wasn’t about to pass up a once in a lifetime opportunity.
Things were about to get very real, very fast, and I needed to be ready.
I spent the day primping and preparing myself for our date. I’d cleaned my house, washed my sheets, showered, and painted my toenails a pretty shade of coral. Not to mention my trip into town to buy the biggest box of condoms I’d ever seen, that were now resting on my bedside table. Just looking at them made me nervous.
Actually, that wasn’t entirely true. The note I’d found in my mailbox on my way to town had me slightly off-kilter before I’d even picked up the condoms. It said, “Think your hot stuff now? Wait ’til the fire starts.” The glaring grammatical issue on the crinkled paper was the least of my concerns.
The Barlows’ threats were becoming more serious each day. I was no longer certain ignoring them was the best course of action, though I doubted confronting them would do the situation justice. So, for tonight, I’d decided to put it out of my mind and tackle only one thing at a time. Starting with Cowboy.
I smoothed out the wrinkles in my pale blue, flowery sundress and slipped on my white sandals. I wasn’t sure what to wear for a one-night stand, so I just went with something simple and feminine. It was a safe bet. I’d never seen Cowboy in anything other than jeans and a T-shirt, so anything more than casual would be considered way overdressed.
When a truck rumbled to a stop outside, I tousled my loose hair one last time, checked my makeup in the mirror, and hurried to the door. I even waited for him to announce his arrival before opening it, just to keep from looking too eager.
The moment he knocked, I swung open the door and stepped directly into The Twilight Zone. Someone looking an awful lot like Cowboy stood in my doorway with a bouquet of pink roses. Except this guy was wearing a blazer, had his hair combed to the side, and was missing a cowboy hat.
What the hell?
He grinned at me. “Hey, ready to go?”
“Um, okay.” It sounded more like a question looming in the air. “Let me just put these in some water first.”
Cowboy waited at the door for me, whistling a tune I didn’t recognize. He was certainly in a good mood. But then again, what guy isn’t if he thinks he’s about to get laid?
When I finished, I headed outside and he waited as I locked up. Once I turned back to him, he wordlessly offered me his arm and led me down the stairs and out to his vehicle. The red truck glinted in the fading sunlight, bright and shiny, as if he’d recently washed it.
Cowboy eyed my loose red strands before his gaze met mine and he grinned, as if he’d just noticed I wasn’t wearing my glasses. “By the way, you look beautiful tonight.”
“Thank you. So do you. I mean, you look very handsome.”
He held the door for me as I climbed inside and buckled up, then gave me a wink before closing it. I watched as he strutted around the front of the truck to the driver’s side, resembling a peacock proudly displaying his feathers. But, in this case, Cowboy was showing off his newfound gentlemanly behavior.
Silence sat between us for the first few miles. I spent most of that time sneaking peeks of his meticulously combed hairdo and uncomfortable-looking blazer and wondering what it all meant. The novelty of it all confused me. I yearned to run my fingers through his hair to mess it up and pull his blazer off in protest to see his broad shoulders I loved so much.
“I wasn’t sure where you wanted to go for dinner, so I thought we’d just go somewhere close by.”
“Oh.” I couldn’t stop the disappointment from leaching into my voice. Guess he was in a hurry to get back to my place.
“Is that okay? I just thought you’d be more comfortable that way.”
Yeah, right. “It’s fine.”
“Are you sure? I could call and get us reservations somewhere else, if you want,” he said, lifting his cell phone from the truck’s center console. “It’s last minute, but I’m sure I could find us something.”
“No, really. It’s okay.” I gave him a quick smile. “I’m just a little surprised, that’s all. I figured a guy like you would have this dating thing down to a science.”
He glanced over at me. “A guy like me?”
“You know, someone who dates a lot of different women.”
Cowboy turned left into the parking lot of a restaurant called Junior’s Diner, which resembled a big red barn, and parked in the front row. “I think we have different definitions of what a date is.”
My cheeks burned with the heat of embarrassment, so I removed my seat belt to avoid looking in his direction. “You know what I mean.”
Cowboy opened his door and stepped out. “Yeah, I do,” he said, sounding perturbed by my remark. After marching around to my side, he yanked open the passenger door and took my hand in his to help me out. “And just for the record, I haven’t been with nearly as many women as you think I have.”
“Really?” I climbed out of his jacked-up truck and my eyes grazed over his face, searching for signs of sincerity. “Because I heard you were quite the—”
“Hey, manwhore!” someone called out, redirecting our attention. Emily stood on the nearby curb with an amused grin on her face.
Cowboy narrowed his eyes at her intrusion. The look he gave her was priceless: no parts embarrassment, all parts aggravation. Then he turned back to me. “We’ll finish this conversation later.”
I smiled. “All right.”
“What are you two doing here?” Emily asked, squinting in confusion.
Cowboy hesitated. “We’re…uh, just having dinner.”
As we approached, Jake met Emily on the curb and his gaze landed on his friend. Jake’s eyes widened as he gawked at Cowboy’s attire and neatly styled hair. “What the fuck happened to you?”
I bit my lip to stifle my laughter and to keep from smiling, but Emily didn’t. She chuckled out loud without any reservations at all.
“Since when the hell did you start wearing blazers?
” Jake asked.
“What are you, the fashion police?” Cowboy retorted. “Guess that’s what the FBI stands for: Fashion Bureau of—”
“Yeah, yeah. Knock it off.”
Cowboy gritted his teeth together, then relaxed his jaw. “What are you two doing here?”
“We’re celebrating,” Emily said, gleefully. “It’s been exactly six weeks since we’ve been able to have se—”
Jake covered Emily’s mouth and gave her a stern look. “Since we had Lily.” Then he removed his hand.
Emily rolled her eyes. “Oh, because they haven’t heard the word ‘sex’ before. Jesus, Jake. You’re such a prude sometimes.”
Apparently, I was, too. My face had warmed enough that I was pretty sure everyone could see my blushing cheeks from a mile away. Though I liked Emily a lot, being around her in a small group made me nervous. You just never knew what would fly out of her mouth next.
“Well, since we’re all here, why don’t we sit together?” she asked.
Crap.
“Emily,” Jake said, lowering his voice. “We should leave them alone. I think they’re on a date.”
“Date?” she repeated, wrinkling her nose. “Since when did Cowboy actually start dating? I thought he only had one-night stands.” Then she laughed. A lot. Sometime during her fit of laughter, she must’ve realized that no one else had joined in and that there was some awkward tension buzzing from the rest of us, because she stopped giggling. “Oh God, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it to come out sounding…well, you know.”
I gave her a nonchalant shrug and a soft smile. “It’s okay. Why don’t we just go in and enjoy ourselves?”
“Sounds good,” Jake said, moving past us through the entrance.
Cowboy took that as his cue and entered as well, while I followed behind him. As I passed by Emily, she mouthed an apology to me and I gave her a nearly imperceptible nod to let her know I wasn’t angry. Then we followed the men inside.
I’d never been to Junior’s Diner before, but I loved the atmosphere. The restaurant had a western decor with Old West paraphernalia tacked on every wall. Antique saddles, old spurs, and rusted horseshoes surrounded us.
Jake picked a table in the center of the room. “This okay?”
Cowboy nodded his approval and we sat on one side as Emily and Jake took the other. I’d barely planted my butt in the chair when a pretty young woman approached us while digging in the purse she had strapped over her shoulder.
She stood on Cowboy’s opposite side and giggled shyly. “Would you mind giving me your autograph?” she asked, whipping out a pen and a pocket-sized version of the Liberty County Bachelor calendar.
“Uh, sure,” Cowboy replied uncomfortably. He shifted in his chair as he flipped to the month of May and scrawled his name across his racy photograph before handing it back to her. “There ya go.”
“Would you sign mine, too?” Another woman popped up beside him, holding out a pocket calendar, looking hopeful and eager.
Cowboy smiled politely and gave her a nod as he took her calendar and administered the same treatment to it as the one before. But as he handed the woman back her calendar, another took her place. She held out a Sharpie and smiled flirtatiously at him. “Would you mind?”
“No problem,” Cowboy answered, waiting for her to hand him her calendar.
But instead, she bent down, practically shoving her cleavage in his face. “Just sign anywhere you like,” she purred with a blatant sexual overtone.
My eyes widened. Though it was rude for her to hit on my date, especially right in front of me, I didn’t say anything. I had no claim on Cowboy and wouldn’t pretend like I did. But Cowboy glanced over at me with uncertainty in his eyes, as if he wasn’t sure how to handle the situation any more than I was. So I did the only thing I could do to put him at ease. I pretended to be oblivious to the woman’s request by starting up a neutral conversation with his friends.
“Emily, did you have a good time last night?”
“Yep. Especially when you slapped the crap out of Cowboy. I’m guessing that wasn’t a love tap you gave him on the dance floor.”
I cringed. Well, that didn’t work out in my favor. “Oh. You saw that?”
The woman standing there giggled, though Cowboy clenched his jaw. He quickly signed his name on her forearm and handed the marker back. “Sorry, I’m on a date. Best I can do.” The woman sighed, disappointment tugging at her features, but retreated without another word. As she walked away, Cowboy mouthed a silent “sorry” to me and draped his arm on the back of my chair.
“Are you kidding? Everyone saw it. No doubt Jeremy did, too. That’s probably the reason he targeted you. Jeremy’s an ass like that. But then again, I guess he isn’t the only one,” she said, directing her attention to Cowboy with a suspicious gleam in her eye. “You must’ve done something pretty bad to cause our sweet little Anna to have that reaction.”
God, I wish everyone would stop calling me that. It makes me sound like a four-year-old.
Cowboy’s gaze cut to me, but I just lifted a brow and shrugged. Technically, they were his friends first, and if he wanted them to know, then he should be the one to tell them.
He combed his fingers through his hair, as if he were contemplating what to say. “I sort of…called her a liar.”
Emily’s eyes widened, but Jake chuckled and said, “That was your bright idea? To go over there and insult her? Jesus, Cowboy. Talk about open mouth, insert boot.”
“Shut up,” Cowboy sneered, firing daggers at Jake with his eyes.
Emily cringed, then leaned over to her husband. “Um, Jake, why don’t we go look for the waitress?”
But he was oblivious to the reason for her request. “You do know in here the waitresses come to the table. We don’t have to go look—” The contemptuous glare Emily gave him finally sank in. “Oh. Okay, sure.”
The moment they walked away, Cowboy grasped my hand in his. “I’m sorry. I guess I’m not very good at the whole dating thing. Tonight’s not going at all the way I planned.”
“That’s okay,” I said, giving him a genuine smile. “To be honest, I haven’t been on many dates before so I didn’t have any pre-conceived notions.” Not about the dinner portion of our date, anyway.
Cowboy’s brows furrowed. “My original idea was to take you by horseback down to Rickety Bridge, have a picnic, and then we could have cooled off in the old watering hole, but I wasn’t sure if you would think it was lame or not.”
“Actually, it sounds wonderful, but I…well, I don’t swim.”
“That’s okay. I could teach you,” he offered, looking hopeful.
“No, that’s not exactly…um, what I mean is, I know how to swim. I just…” I peered down at our hands as he linked his fingers with mine.
“You don’t want to get into a swimsuit?” he asked. When I nodded silently, he reached over and tilted my chin up until my eyes met his gaze. “Darlin’, the only person here who is bothered by your scars is you.”
His words warmed my heart, melting the tension. The sincerity in his voice and eyes left little doubt that he was telling the God’s honest truth. He didn’t care about my scars. And the sheer notion sent endorphins rushing through my system, filling me with relief.
Until he winked and added, “Besides, who needs swimsuits?”
I sighed inwardly as Jake and Emily returned to the table with a waitress who handed us menus. She was an older woman but she chewed and smacked her gum as loudly as any teenager. She took our drink orders, shoved her notepad into her apron, and pulled out a pocket calendar of her own.
Sheesh.
Before she could even speak, I rose from my seat. “Excuse me for a moment,” I said, heading in the direction of the restrooms. I didn’t really need to go to the bathroom, but I couldn’t sit through another moment of these women stroking Cowboy’s ego. No wonder the man was insatiable. He had women coming out of the woodwork to get to him.
In the small room, I check
ed my makeup and hair in the mirror and then washed my hands. I waited a few more minutes, then left, working my way back to our table. But halfway there, I bumped directly into a tall, broad Native American man wearing a black western shirt with white pearl snaps who smelled eerily of mint. I started to apologize, but the moment my gaze met his, the only thing that left my throat was a strangled gasp.
Oh my God! It was him.
Last night, I hadn’t realized he was a Native American, but standing before him now, face-to-face, I had no doubt this man was the very same man I’d seen on my back porch. His long, silky black hair was braided this time, but I recognized the minty scent of the chaw of tobacco he held in his bottom lip and the golden hawk eyes sliced into my soul.
But that was a dream, wasn’t it?
The dark-skinned man blinked at me, almost as if he…recognized me, too. Then an unpleasant scowl appeared on his face. “Don’t scream,” he ordered and put his hand on his hip, which showcased a large knife in a brown leather sheath.
Jesus! It hadn’t been a dream. So I did what any intelligent woman would do in that situation. I screamed.
The sound could’ve shattered glass and basically did, since a young waitress passing by dropped the drink-filled tray she’d carried. Shards of clear glass lay on the wet tile floor at her feet as everyone in the restaurant—including Jake, Cowboy, and Emily—jumped to their feet. Cowboy came running toward us, but since the man in front of me was armed, I didn’t bother waiting for him to arrive.
I grabbed the first thing I could reach on the nearest vacant dish-covered table and pointed it at the man in front of me. The corner of his mouth lifted into a tiny smirk. To him, it may have only been a dirty butter knife. But to me, it was a deadly weapon, one I planned to gouge his eyes out with if he came any closer.
“Anna…?” Cowboy stopped beside the man and held up his two hands, as if surrendering. “Sweetheart, what are you doing?”
“Who are you?” I demanded.
“It’s me, Cowboy.”
“Not you. Him.” I nodded toward the burly Native American.