Page 55 of Austin
Chapter Eleven
Austin would havedriven the seven hours north from Salt Lake City to Marietta if Kristen had let him. She wasn’t about to allow that, so when he headed to the driver’s side of the truck the next morning, she bluntly told him that he was the passenger. He didn’t argue about the driving, but he refused to take another pain pill. Kristen wasn’t going to force any kind of a drug on anyone, but she hated seeing him hurting.
Hated seeinganyonehurting, she qualified, doing her best to convince herself that what she felt for Austin was the same as what she’d feel for any injured person; but it wasn’t. How could it be, after what they’d shared over the past several days?
She would never be the same. That was a given. Her time with Austin had continued what losing her job had started—hammering home the lesson that when life got messy, she didn’t need to religiously follow the carved-in-stone path that she’d chosen at the age of eighteen—or to feel bad when she couldn’t follow the path. Side trips were legal—and sometimes they were forced upon you. She’d served drinks in costume and hitched a ride with a bull rider. She’d survived and she’d grown. And she’d had awesome sex.
Glancing sideways, she saw that Austin’s eyes were closed and his features relaxed.Finally.Every time she’d woken the night before, he’d been staring at the ceiling. He’d fallen asleep just before daylight, so she’d slipped out of bed and started dressing, hoping to slip out for coffee without disturbing him, but he woke up before she could leave. And, somehow, she’d resisted the temptation to crawl back into bed with him.
She was going to miss him, but the thing about side trips was that they had to end before they went sour. She and Austin were no longer in their insulated Salt Lake City hotel-room world. Things would be different in Marietta, and, as she saw it, she and Austin were ending on the perfect note at the perfect time.
He slept for most of the trip home, occasionally shifting and screwing his face up in pain, but not waking. These bull riders were a tough lot. Kristen kept her focus on the road, except when she looked at him, drinking her fill while she could. Austin pushed himself upright with a painful grimace when she pulled up in front of the house she owned with her sister. Her haven until she found another job.
“We’re here,” he said, blinking.
“We are.” At the place where they would go their separate ways. She smiled a little. “Part of me doesn’t want to return to reality.”
“It’s always that way after a vacation.” He met her eyes. “I’m not sure what to say now.” She solved the problem by leaning over the console and sliding her hand around the back of his neck, pulling herself close enough to kiss him. Hard. He answered her kiss, his hand coming up to cup her cheek.
When she leaned back, he smiled and her heart did an odd double beat. “I know what to say…thank you for helping me break free for a little while.”
“Any time.” His smile held a mixture of acceptance and regret. “Good luck with the job search.”
The screen door of her house banged and Kristen looked over her shoulder to see Whitney coming down the porch steps.
“Thank you.” There was so much more she could say—all the many things she’d silently philosophized about as she drove, but Kristen wasn’t going to try to put anything into words. They understood each other and that was enough. “Are you sure you can drive to the ranch?”
He snorted dismissively and reached for his door handle. Question answered.
Austin limped to the driver’s side of the truck as Kristen got out. “Hey, stranger,” he said as Whitney reached the gate.
“Austin.” She lifted her eyebrows at his pronounced limp. “How’re you doing?”
“No complaints.”
“Will we see you at FlintWorks before you head out again?”
He rubbed a hand over the back of his neck. “More likely I’ll be at Grey’s…no offense.”
“Yeah. I know. You’re a traditionalist.”
“Old habits die hard.” Austin got into the truck, gave the twins one last smile, then put the vehicle in gear and pulled away from the curb.
And that’s that.Kristen let out a breath, doing her best to ignore the heavy, melancholy feeling that settled over her as she turned to her sister, who was regarding her curiously.
“I’m gearing up to face the music. How are the folks?”
“The folks are looking forward to seeing you. Dad got called into the ER to cover for Dr. Gallagher, so you won’t see him until tomorrow morning.” Whitney shot a look toward Austin’s truck as it disappeared around the corner. “So…you two?”
Whitney was never one to be sidetracked for long, but Kristen gave it a stab. “Let me deal with Mom and Dad and then we can have a nice long talk.”
And maybe after dealing with her parents, it would easier to talk about Austin. In a few days, she’d have her bearings, feel more herself. Be back in control. And maybe, if she was lucky, the memories of their time in Salt Lake City would start to fade.
*
Austin drove southon Highway 89 to the Forty-Six Ranch, the place his brother called home. The truck seemed empty without Kristen, but he figured the feeling would pass. They’re shared some intense moments over the past several days, and he could be forgiven for suffering from withdrawals. Never in his wildest thoughts would he have guessed that he and Kris could bring out so much in one another.
She was right—itwas hard to ease back into real life. But ease he must. He had a leg to heal and a tour to win.
