Page 9 of My Cowboy Kiss
I scurry closer to the truck and lower my voice to talk to him through the open passenger window. “In public, yes.”
“But we need to practice in private, so we don’t screw up in public. Holding hands, kissing, having sex.”
“I swear, River. I can’t take you anywhere. And who needs to practice sex? It’s like a transaction.”
“Just when I think I’ve heard every hurtful thing your mama taught you, something new comes out of your mouth.”
I shrug. “How is it hurtful if it’s the truth?” My mama taught me sex meant the lights stayed on. Sex put food on the table. There was always a round of icky guys slinking around for what she called her transactions. Sometimes they acted like I was a bonus but thankfully that transaction was never completed.
River shakes his head. “It’s not the truth.”
Because I don’t want to argue with him about sex where anyone might overhear, I tell him to follow me then step away from the truck and go get in my car. It’s less like an oven nowbut still not cool enough to be comfortable. The air conditioner works as fast as a sloth.
Though I live less than ten miles from the office, by the time I get to my apartment, my shirt is sticking to me and my skin is flushed from the heat.
River parks in an empty spot two spaces down from where I do and gets out. I don’t know how he manages to look sexier the longer the day gets while I look bedraggled.
He walks with me toward the older home that was renovated and divided into five apartments. I’m fortunate that I found the rental ad for it when I did because these don’t stay empty long.
“Do I need to close my eyes while you run around and pretend the place is clean?”
“I cleaned yesterday because I thought Mom was coming over.” I walk in and flick on the lights. Normally, I’m a bit of a slob. I saybit ofbecause it sounds gentler than owning the truth. I hate cleaning a little less than I do cooking.
“She didn’t?”
I glance at him. “You don’t have to pretend you didn’t already know she wouldn’t. You want something to drink?”
He doesn’t deny it. “I’ll get something to drink myself. You change so we can go.”
He’s walking into the small kitchen and I’m almost in my bedroom before I remember what I left on the counter. The deposit slip where I’d added money to River’s family’s bank account.
I spin on my heel and race to the kitchen. Cutting him off, I get in front of him and put my hand on the counter over the deposit slip. “On second thought, I need some water before I change.”
Plucking at the neck of my shirt, I exhale loudly. “Whew. It’s warm today. Must be the humidity.”
River has this thing…this way of looking at me with his gorgeous eyes that makes me want to pour out all my secrets which would be disastrous. I turn away and open the refrigerator. Taking out a bottle of water, I hold it out. “Want this?”
“I do.”
He’s not looking at the water. He’s looking at me.You’d hate me if you knew my estranged uncle is the one who almost made you lose the only loving home you’ve ever known. You’d hate me if you knew I’ve kept this secret from you.You’d hate me if you knew I’m not the good person you think I am.Us fake dating isn’t the only pretense going on here.
When they’d nearly lost the ranch, I’d felt so damn guilty even though I wasn’t the one who stole from them. I was afraid to speak up. Afraid they’d think because I’d never told anyone I was related to my estranged uncle, that I was somehow involved. I’d needed them all so badly I couldn’t bear the thought of losing them. Of having them look at me like I disgust them.
I thrust the water at him, then take one for myself and slip past him. “I’ll change. Give me ten minutes.”
In my bedroom, I lean my weight against the door and hold the water bottle to my face. When I’m calmer, I set the water on the bedside table, then work the skirt off and toss it onto a chair that has a pile of laundry waiting to be done.
I’m standing in my bra and panties in front of my closet trying to remember where I put my clean shorts when glass shattering reverberates through the apartment.
Shit!My neighbor has a cat that likes to launch himself at my kitchen window to sit on the windowsill. I usually leave it open for him. With everything going on, did I forget this morning? Worried that I did and that he might be hurt, I run into the kitchen.
River is kneeling on the other side of the small dining table. I quickly kneel beside him and peek under the table. “Where is he? Did the cat get hurt?”
He drops the dustpan where he’d been gathering the pieces of a coffee cup, and his eyes darken when he looks at me. “Courtney…”
“I don’t see the cat. Then did you get hurt?”
“No. I accidentally bumped a cup on the counter when I turned around.”
