Page 7 of Possessive Cowboy

It’s obvious that Bridget is gone, but my brain doesn’t want to accept it. I wasn’t ready to say goodbye; I wasn’t ready for this abrupt ending.

I don't even remember falling asleep last night. It’s not like I gave her a peck on the cheek and told her, “Goodnight sweetheart, see you in the morning!”

All I remember is our bodies tangled together. Making love again and again until we fell back wearily against the pillows and passed out together.

At least…Ithinkshe passed out, too. Then again, there’s no proof of that. Maybe she waited for me to fall asleep and then left.

Suddenly my mind jumps to a news segment I saw years ago on TV. Something about women in the city tricking unsuspecting men, sleeping with them and then robbing them blind after they fell asleep. My eyes fall to my discarded jeans on the floor and I dart for them, digging in the pockets.

Phone.

Keys.

Wallet.

I open the wallet and sigh in relief when I see my ID, credit cards, and cash still there.

God dammit Maverick. Get your shit together. It was a one-night stand, isn’t that what you said? You met up at a bar, went to the hotel, fucked her brains out, and she left afterwards. That’s how these things work. What do you want? For her to send flowers and a card?

I go to the bathroom and splash some water on my face, trying to shake myself out of this weird fucking mood that I’m in. That’s when I see the note beside the sink.

Her handwriting is exactly what you’d expect from a woman like that – loopy, neat, cute. Nothing like my chicken scratch.

Thank you for showing me a great time last night. It was exactly what I needed.

Much love,

R

I readthe short note a couple of times and frown.

R?Who the hell is R? Maybe it’s a mistake. The letter R isn’t that different from the letter B, I guess. She must have been in a hurry, and picked up her pen before she could finish the bottom loop of the letter.

This explanation would make sense, except that the note overall is written so neatly, so deliberately, as though typed and printed from a computer rather than written in pen by a human hand.

I read the note one more time, running my thumb over the shallow imprint of the letters that the pen made.

When did she write this? Was it last night, or only minutes ago? If I looked outside, would I see her walking across the parking lot, back to the bar, getting into her car to go home?

…And if I did, would I run out to try to catch her, to stop her?

No. It’s called a one-night stand for a reason. I came out last night to get laid, to blow off some steam and release the stress that’s been burdening my shoulders for these last few months, ever since my brother Tex took off and left me to do everything around the ranch.

Now that it’s out of my system, it’s time to go back to the real world. Last night was fun. And that’s all it was. Fun is the reason I downloaded that dirty app in the first place. Fun is also something that I’ve learned to enjoy in small doses, temporary breaks in between back-breaking work that never seems to end.

As though summoned by my thoughts, my phone rings. It’s Levi, my neighbor from up the road.

“Bad news,” he says in a clipped tone when I answer. “Your cows got out. I’ve rounded up a couple of them, but they’ve scattered both north and south. Gonna need you to end your romantic date early and come home.”

“It wasn’t a romantic date, it -”

“I don’t give a shit what it was,” he cuts in. “Whether it was a romantic date, a hookup with an old flame, an orgy, or a shotgun wedding to a stripper you met in Vegas, just end it early and get the hell home.”

I begin to answer, to ask him whether the new calf is safely inside the fence, but Levi hangs the phone up without giving me a chance to respond. Typical of him.

Levi is a mean son of a bitch. Worse than me, which is saying something. But he’s also got my back and I’ve got his; a helpful thing now that I’m a one-man operation.

Tucking Bridget’s note in my pocket, I check out of the hotel and climb into my old truck. Pulling out onto the two-lane road in the direction that leads back to the little town of Faith, away from neon lights and loud music, away from Bridget and the night I’ll never forget.

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