Page 22 of Cowboy's Last Stand
“It’s awkward,” he said, shrugging.“Going home isn’t the same.I feel like a stranger or an outsider.”
“Why?”
His brow furrowed as he attempted to put his thoughts into words.“I think it’s because my dad moved on so quickly.He got rid of all of my mom’s stuff a week after she died.It was almost as if he erased her existence.And mine, by association.”
Natalie’s heart panged with sympathy.She could relate to his feelings of loss, even though her mother wasn’t dead.The pain of that abandonment wasn’t as fresh as the pain from Mike’s death, but it was still there.
They left the park a few minutes later.As soon as they arrived at home, Jason got started on her car.He worked like a machine for several hours, tireless and methodical.She was reluctant to interrupt him for lunch.Marcus wanted tater tots and apple slices, so she made that.She was bringing Jason a glass of iced tea when she noticed a familiar vehicle.
Billy.
He was driving down her street in his signature black truck.He slowed in front of her house, eyes narrowed on the domestic scene: Natalie, holding two iced teas.Jason with his head under the hood.When Jason glanced up, Billy put his foot on the gas.He left the neighborhood in a squeal of tires.Natalie didn’t watch the truck disappear down the street.She kept her gaze on Jason, who accepted a glass of iced tea and drained it in about ten seconds.His suntanned throat worked as he swallowed.
Jason gave her the empty glass and wiped his mouth.“He live around here?”
“No.”
“Do you have to work tonight?”
She shook her head.“Sunday is my day off.”
He gestured to the engine.“Fire it up.”
“You’re finished?”
“We’ll see.”
She retrieved her keys and climbed behind the wheel.The engine chugged to life without a choke or a sputter.She grinned in delight.He told her to let it idle for a few minutes.She put it in neutral and hopped out.“You’re a miracle worker.”
“Nah.It was an easy fix.”
She wanted to hug him, but she restrained herself.“Why don’t you stay for dinner?I’ll make fried chicken.”
“You don’t have to.”
“I want to.”
He seemed pleased by the offer.“All right.”
She was standing close enough to see the dark grains of stubble on his jaw and the fine sheen of perspiration on his skin.He’d removed his cowboy hat, and she felt a strong urge to run her fingers through his sweat-dampened hair.He was dangerously handsome.He also smelled pretty good for a nomad who slept outdoors.She realized she was staring—and he was staring back at her.Retreating a step, she pulled her gaze from his.Heat rose to her cheeks.She hadn’t meant to encourage him.Inviting him to dinner wasn’t the best way to convince him she wasn’t available, but it couldn’t be helped.
She had to go to the grocery store first, so she packed up Marcus and went shopping.She bought all of the necessary ingredients, plus a frozen pie crust and ice cream for dessert.When she returned from the store, grocery bags in tow, Jason was stretched out on the glider with his eyes closed.His right hand was splayed over his flat belly.His knuckles were scraped, his fingers grease-stained.She couldn’t stop herself from admiring him again.There was something so sexy about his state of repose, his relaxed face, even his dirty hand.This was a tall, good-looking, hardworking man.
She stared at him for several seconds, transfixed.Marcus caught up with her, carrying a bag of groceries.They tiptoed across the porch as quietly as Marcus was able to.Jason roused anyway, jerking upright with a start.
“Sorry,” she said.
“Don’t be,” he mumbled.“I was just resting my eyes.”
“We bought ice cream,” Marcus announced.“Two flavors.”
She set her groceries down to open the door.
“Do you need help?”Jason asked.
“We’ve got it.”
She ushered Marcus inside and sent him off to play.She hoped Jason would return to his well-deserved slumber.An hour later, she had dinner ready and an apple pie in the oven.The meal was fancier than usual, and they had company, so she told Marcus to set the table in the dining room.They hadn’t used it since Mike died.
