by Sable Hunter
Denver groaned, imagining her hiking along the side of the highway. “You’re going to be the death of me, woman! Don’t you know I worry about you?”
“Oh, don’t worry about me.” She clasped his hand again, loving the feel of his palm gliding against hers. Bryn felt warm and tingly. She discovered she liked the feeling. “I manage just fine. Can we eat now? I’m hungry.”
“Sure, I’m starving myself. How about pizza?”
His suggestion was met with enthusiastic agreement. “I adore pizza!” She didn’t tell Denver she’d only tasted the treat once. “I think I could eat a whole pie!”
“What do you want on yours?” He guided her down the street, an arm around her waist, keeping her next to the building and him on the street side.
“Anything. Everything.” She wasn’t sure what to ask for. “Anything you get on yours is fine with me. I’ll probably just eat a slice or two.”
“I thought you could eat a whole pie,” he teased, moving closer to her when another couple needed to pass.
“I like to fantasize that I could,” she confessed. “Gluttony is one of the seven deadly sins though.”
“Yea, so I’ve heard. I think lust would be more fun, myself.”
A laugh bubbled from Bryn’s lips. “I love your sense of humor.” As they moved down the street, she was conscious of people’s eyes on her. “I think I stick out like a sore thumb. You should’ve told me, Denver.”
“Told you what?” As they came even with the pizza parlor, he held the door open for her to walk inside under his arm.
“My clothes are all wrong. I look out of place.” She was very afraid she’d always seem out of place. Once that thought materialized in her brain, a worse one followed. What if she didn’t have a place?
Denver waited for the hostess to notice them before he replied, “Nonsense. You look perfect. Like a lady.” He admired her dress. “I think you look adorable.”
Hearing the word adorable spring from the cowboy’s lips brought a smile to her face. “All right, if you’re not embarrassed to be seen with me, I’m okay.”
After studying the menu, he ordered a large pizza with everything except anchovies. As they waited, Denver sought to learn more about her. “So, where did you grow up? In the country? You seem like you’ve been…out of the mainstream.”
Bryn ducked her head. “I guess you can tell I’m new to everything. I apologize for being such a drag.”
“No, I didn’t say that. I’m having a blast with you!” He picked up her hand and held it in his, rubbing his thumb over her fingers.
Bryn took a deep breath. She wouldn’t confess all her shortcomings. “I grew up in a Catholic orphanage. They were pretty straitlaced. No frills. Just the basics.”
“Awww. What happened to your parents?”
Bryn swallowed nervously. “I don’t know.” She pulled her hand from his, then picked up a napkin and proceeded to rip it to shreds. “Isn’t that weird?” She scoffed, shaking her head. “I don’t have a clue. I was left at a church in Houston that was fitted with one of those baby hatches.”
“Baby hatch? I don’t know what you mean.” Denver could tell this conversation was hard for her.
“I think they used to be called a foundling wheel, a cylinder type drawer set upright in the outside wall of a building, sort of like a revolving door. A mother can place her…unwanted baby in the cylinder, turn it around so the baby is inside the church, then ring a bell to alert the nuns or priests that they have a…visitor.”
Denver noticed Bryn’s voice faltered over the word unwanted. “Oh, Bryn, I’m sorry, baby.”
She shook her head. “Don’t be. I’m sure they had a good reason.”
“Were you ever adopted?” His question was more than conversational, he wanted to connect with her. Watching her face, he was afraid he’d gone too far.
“Yes.”
“Oh, that’s good.” Denver was glad to know she’d been wanted at some point.
Bryn started not to say more, but the words tumbled out. “I was adopted at six months.” She smiled sadly. “They returned me when I was four years old.” She cleared her throat, her eyes filling with tears. “I can remember being so panicked and scared. I didn’t understand. I adored them, and I wanted to go home. She was my Mama and he was my Daddy, I didn’t know any different.”
Denver couldn’t speak for a moment. A wave of rage roared over him when he thought of someone hurting Bryn. “Why in the hell would they do that? I can understand giving up a newborn if you can’t take care of it for some reason, but there’s no excuse for a couple who deliberately sought out a child to turn their back on it after an attachment is formed! Were they sick or something?”
“No. It doesn’t matter now.” His fury on her behalf made her smile through the tears. “It’s okay, I got over it a long time ago.”
“I know that’s not true.” Denver picked up her hand and kissed it. “A person doesn’t get over something like that, not completely. I know from personal experience.”
She was about to ask what he meant when the waitress brought their pizza.
Denver laughed at her face. She acted as if the sight of the pizza was the most glorious thing she’d ever seen. And when she took the first bite, she made sounds of appreciation that made his cock harden into concrete. “Oh, Denver, this is so good,” she moaned and closed her eyes.
“I take it you didn’t get too much pizza in the orphanage?” He selected a piece and sprinkled parmesan on top of it.
“No, they considered pizza to be junk food and we were only supposed to eat godly food like Daniel and his three friends, Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego,” she repeated the explanation she’d been so often given.
He started to ask who she meant, but then the names rang a bell from Sunday School. “You mean Daniel from the lion’s den and the other three guys were the ones thrown into the fiery furnace.”
“Right.” She took another bite and savored it. “The Sisters were convinced they survived those trials, not by the grace of God, but because they ate oatmeal, grits, and lima beans.”
“Yuck.” He made a face, sympathizing with her plight.
Holding up the pizza, she grinned. “Now, I know what manna from heaven tastes like.” She took another bite and moaned again.
“I’m glad you’re enjoying it.” Denver shouldn’t have felt a measure of pride over a simple pizza, but he did. He was proud to do something to make her happy.
Contemplatively, Bryn pulled a piece of crunchy pepperoni off her piece and ate it by itself. “You know, when I was nine or so, we put on a play. One scene showed some of the children of Israel eating manna and one of the nuns bought a Hostess Twinkie and cut it up into bite size pieces. They didn’t allow us to have Twinkies at mealtime, so we all fought over the play prop. When time came to put on the play, all the manna was gone, and we ended up eating cold cornbread during the play instead. It was so dry, I could barely say my lines.”
Denver laughed at her story. “I’m sure you wish your childhood was different, but whoever raised you did a wonderful job. I think you’re fantastic.”
Bryn blushed. “How about you? Tell me about your family.”
Denver closed down. “How about ice cream?”
“You’re temptation itself, Denver Bolden.” She didn’t push him to talk. Besides, the ice cream did sound good. When the waitress brought the check, he asked the lady to box up the remaining pizza to go. “Are you sure you won’t let me pay my share?” Bryn asked, crossing her fingers. “I expect to get a job soon.” She hoped.
“I’m a Southern gentleman, Miss Bryn. Women don’t pay for their own supper when they’re with me.” He picked up his Stetson from the chair next to him and set it on his head. “Have you ever eaten at a Dairy Queen?”
“No, but I’m all for trying new things.”
Her expectant expression made him want to give her the world. He certainly wanted to try a myriad of new things with her, especially those ha
ving to do with him kissing her plump, pink lips. Denver couldn’t help but wonder about her sexual experience again. She seemed so innocent, but there were times when her eyes would meet his and he swore she could feel the electric heat arcing between them. “Come on, we’ll split a banana split or a large hot fudge sundae with whipped cream and a cherry on top.”
“I get the cherry,” she announced as she stood from her place at the table. “Don’t forget your box of food to go.” She held it out to him.
Denver took it from her. “I’m sending this home with you tonight, you can have it for lunch tomorrow.”
“Really? Thank you.” She hugged his arm, then followed him to the cashier’s stand. “You are being very nice to me. This is the best date ever.” Her only date ever, considering she’d just left the nunnery. But Denver didn’t need to know that – not yet anyway.
“You’re welcome.” As they waited to pay, Bryn noticed a couple of girls pointing toward her and laughing.
Did you hear her? You’d think she never ate pizza before.
I saw her in the arcade. She’s pathetic. And look at that ugly dress!
Where do you think she’s from? Mars?
She met their eyes and the sneers on their faces were worse than their caustic comments. She was so glad Denver hadn’t heard them speaking, she would’ve been mortified. Now, she knew she’d been right about the dress. She also realized how silly she’d been when she made over things she’d never tried before. Perhaps, she owed the girls a debt of thanks. The idea made her shiver, she wasn’t about to deliver the gratitude in person, that was for sure.
“We’ll have to drive over, it’s too far to walk.” Denver offered his arm and she nodded, still too stung by what she’d overheard to hold a normal conversation.
On the way to the truck, she kept her eyes down, hesitant to look in the windows of the shops lest she see her reflection. She was also leery of making eye contact with anyone approaching, afraid she’d see judgement or pity on their face. Maybe she should just ask Denver to take her straight home. She wasn’t really in the mood for dessert.
As they stepped off the sidewalk next to his pick-up, Bryn gave him an out. “If you’re tired, we could just call it a night. I know you worked all day.”
Denver frowned, gazing down at Bryn. Was she upset with him? “Did I do something wrong? Is that why you’re trying to give me the brush off?”
Brush off? “No, I have no intention of brushing any part of you.”
Denver chuckled, realizing she wasn’t familiar with the term. He was amazed how sheltered she’d been. “Well, damn.” He opened his truck door and picked her up to place her gently in the seat. “I’m not ready for this evening to end. How about you?” He put one finger under her chin. “Tell me the truth, beautiful.”
Bryn let out a long breath. “I’m not ready. I just realized I was being a pain in the posterior.”
“Posterior?” He bit the inside of his cheek. Now was not the time to laugh. “I don’t know where you got that idea. If something I did or said gave it to you, I am so sorry. You are the best, the brightest thing that’s happened to me in many a day.”
Bryn couldn’t help but respond to the warmth in his voice. “I like chocolate.”
“That’s my girl!” Denver leaned forward, then caught himself. He’d almost kissed her. “Chocolate it is.” He backed out and shut the door, hurrying around to the driver’s side.
In no time they were at the DQ. “Welcome to the quintessential Texas fast food restaurant,” Denver told her as he parked near the drive-thru. “Ever been before?”
“No.” Bryn let her eyes rove over the bright red and white building with the huge posters of hamburgers and shakes hanging in the window. “It’s very cheery.”
“You could say that,” Denver agreed. “There’s at least one of these in every small Texas town, it’s the place where the football team eats after practice, and family’s stop for burgers after church on Sundays. DQ is home of the Dude, a chicken-fried steak sandwich, and the iconic Blizzard, which is ice cream mixed with anything.”
Bryn laughed. “I like the way you describe it. When we would drive by the one in Boerne, on the way to work at the soup kitchen, the smell of the burgers always made me hungry.”
“Well, you don’t have to just drive by tonight.” He came around to help her out, anxious to touch her again. “Chocolate, you say?”
“Yea, can I have a hot fudge sundae made with chocolate ice cream?” Bryn asked with a mischievous smile.
“A double whammy, you got it.”
“And I don’t want to split it with you.”
“Greedy.” Denver tugged a lock of her auburn hair.
“Hey, Denver!” Another voice broke through their private reverie.
Bryn looked up to see a big man coming out of the restaurant wearing black leather, complete with silver chains. “You have company.”
“One of my bosses,” he muttered, guiding Bryn closer to the door. “Hey, Isaac. Did Avery have a craving?”
Isaac lifted a paper bag. “Vanilla soft serve with fried dill pickles on the side.” He glanced at Bryn with a friendly smile. “Who’s this, Denver? Have you been holding out on us?”
Denver squeezed Bryn’s shoulder. “This is Bryn Harmon. Bryn, this is Isaac McCoy. His wife Avery is about to give birth to their first child. They’re the ones I was telling you about.”
Isaac chuckled. “Oh, don’t believe everything you here. We’re just a normal couple. A Biker-slash-cowboy married to an erotic romance author-slash-florist.”
“Florist?” Bryn focused on the word that meant the most to her. “I love to work with flowers. I was in charge of the arrangements at church.”
“Bryn’s new in town, she inherited the McBride homestead,” Denver explained. “She’s looking for a job.”
“Well, I don’t know about an opening at the florist, I can check.” He snapped his fingers. “But, if you’re interested in being a waitress, I own a bar. We’re always looking for good help.”
Denver cleared his throat. “I don’t think Bryn’s cut out to be…”
Bryn spoke up, cutting him off. “Thank you, Mr. McCoy. I’ll keep that in mind.”
“Good, you do that. And if you’re ever interested in selling that old place, we’d be interested in making you an offer.” Isaac gave her a smile before turning to Denver. “How’s the baby furniture coming? I have a strong feeling we’ll be needing it soon.”
“The sleigh crib is ready, and I’ll be able to finish the armoire tomorrow.”
“Did you have any trouble getting the Cuban Mahogany Avery wanted? I know it’s expensive and hard to come by.”
“Well, to tell you the truth, I thought I’d messed up.” Denver shook his head with a puzzled frown. “I needed a six-foot board to complete the armoire and after it was loaded up at Nolan’s, I checked it and I’d swear on all that’s holy it was too short. I was standing with Bryn outside the video arcade when I took a second look, and to my amazement, it was just right. If I didn’t know better, I’d say that board grew a foot.”
“I’d call that good fortune.” Isaac raised his bag of ice cream in salute. “Maybe Bryn is your lucky charm.”
Denver grinned. “Maybe she is.”
Isaac shook each of their hands. “Well, I’ll be off. Bryn, if you change your mind about a job at Hardbodies, let me know.”
As soon as the Badass McCoy was gone, Denver guided Bryn into the restaurant to stand in line behind the counter. After he’d placed their order, he pulled her to one side, so she was partially leaning on him. He waved the small paper receipt in the air. “We’re number nineteen, help me listen for it.”
Bryn licked her lips in anticipation. “I can’t believe I’m hungry again, not after all that pizza.”
“There’s always room for ice cream. It melts and runs down in all the cracks and crevices.” Denver rubbed her arms, his palms sliding on the slick, thin material. “You’re cold now. After
the ice cream, I’m going to have to snuggle you to keep you warm.”
“We could turn on the heater,” she offered.
“That wouldn’t be nearly as much fun,” he whispered, making Bryn’s heart pound.
“Why don’t you think I could be a waitress?” she asked out of the blue, trying to ignore the other people who were milling around them.
“I’m sure you could be a great waitress. I just don’t like thinking about you serving drinks to men in a bar.”
Bryn didn’t argue. She really couldn’t imagine it either. “Oh well, I’m sure something will come along. My skills are few, but my determination is strong.”
“I have faith in you,” Denver assured her right before he returned to the counter to pick up their order. “Here you go.” He gave her the large, scrumptious looking sundae.
“Oh, my word, that looks sinful.” She took it and immediately spooned a bite into her mouth. “Oh, God, that’s decadent.”
“Come on, watching you eat is something I should never do while standing up in a public place.” Denver led her out.
Bryn didn’t understand his comment, but she didn’t ask why. She was too busy eating her ice cream before it melted. They sat in the truck for a little while, enjoying their dessert and listening to the radio. When they were finished, he gave her a napkin to wipe her fingers and her mouth. “As sweet as that was, Miss Bryn, you have it beat by a country mile.”
“You say the nicest things, Denver Bolden.”
On the way home, they spoke little, both were sad to see their time together coming to an end. When they arrived at her house, Denver walked Bryn to the door, taking care that each step she took was placed on a solid surface. He was glad she’d left the porch light on or they could have easily taken a misstep. “You really need to get this porch worked on.”
“Oh, I will when I can,” she assured him. “Until then, I’ll just step lightly.”
“I could fix it up for you,” he offered, taking a closer look. “I wouldn’t have to replace every board.”
“Thank you, Denver, but I can’t afford to do it just yet.”
“I won’t charge you anything. It would be fun to fix this old place up, make a few improvements.”