Page 13 of Wannabe in Wyoming
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Nathan clutchedthe letter tightly in his fist, his heart slamming against his ribs. Who is this Jeremiah fucker? He was proud of Willow for learning to shoot, but dammit, Jeremiah better keep his hands off his girl.
Wait, what?
His girl?
When had he started thinking of Willow as his? She was a person, not a piece of property. They’d never met or even spoken on the phone. All he had of her was a stack of letters and an envelope full of pictures, but he felt possessive all the same. Maybe it made him more than a little crazy, but he couldn’t help but hope he wasn’t the only one who thought there was something between them. Was writing letters back and forth all that different from online dating? He didn’t think so. He knew he wasn’t imagining it. She’d said, right here in black and white, that she wished he was on that porch swing with her, watching the sunset together. It might make him a pathetic sap, but he wanted that more than anything. That she was there, alone and hurting, broke his heart more than a little. He hated that she had to deal with her ex by herself.
But she wasn’t alone, was she?Jeremiahwas there.Jeremiahwas nice and kind and her neighbor.Fucking Jeremiah.
As for her ex, Nathan wanted to track that Andrew fucker down and beat him to a pulp. He wasn’t normally a violent guy outside of work, but cheating bastards like that got his back up. Gritting his teeth, he swallowed his anger and put her letter safely away in his footlocker with the others. He needed to get to work, focus on getting through the day, and the next day, and then the one after that—on and on until he could get out of this shit hole.
He’d stay safe, he’d do his job, and he’d go home because now he had something to go home to.
Willow.
His girl. She was his, even if she didn’t know it yet, he would make damn sure she understood that too. That bastard Jeremiah didn’t stand a chance. Already mentally writing the next letter, he vowed to step things up a bit and put aside any sort of subtlety. He refused to let her have any doubts that he was interested in her.
It was a risk but one he knew he had to take. Losing Willow to her neighbor, or anyone else for that matter, wasn’t an option.
Chapter Eleven
A little overtwo weeks after her first shooting lesson and dinner with Jeremiah, Willow pushed her cart through the Pack & Sack, stocking up on groceries for herself and goodies to send to Nathan. As always, he was never too far from her thoughts. Jeremiah had opted to come with her after she’d called and asked if he’d needed anything.
“Here, Willow-girl, you need these.” Jeremiah tossed a box of condoms into the cart with a wink and a grin.
“I do not! Jesus, put them back.” She grabbed the box and threw it back at him with a glare and a frown. She was on the shot and free of any STDs, not that she was about to discuss her sexual health in the middle of the Pack & Sack. And the last thing she needed was for someone to see her buying condoms with her single male neighbor, who everyone thought was straight.
“When Nathan comes to see you, it would be a good idea to have them on hand. Better safe than knocked up.” He poked her in the belly with the box, smirking like an asshole.
Her eyes widened as her jaw dropped and slammed shut a few times before she found her voice again. “You did not just say that to me.” After smacking his arm, she snatched the box from him and shoved it onto the shelf, not caring that she’d put it with the wrong brand. “I don’t even know that he’s interested in me that way. He’s probably just lonely and grateful for the distraction of my letters. Like watching late night TV—it’s just something to do to kill time.”
They pushed their carts around to the next aisle. Willow had been hoping to run into Cody while they were there, but he apparently it was his day off. Tomorrow was his eighteenth birthday, and she’d stuffed a twenty-dollar bill into a funny card for him, figuring he could add it to the money he’d saved up for his tattoo. They’d discussed different design options, whenever they’d run into each other, and he’d it narrowed down to three really nice ones but was still undecided which would be his final choice.
“See, I’m calling bullshit right there. Maybe it started out that way, but it’s changed, and you know it.” Jeremiah reached over her head, adding chips and dip to his cart. “I think you’re afraid to let yourself like him.”
“There’s nothing to be afraid of, because there’s nothing going on. Grab me those crunchy Cheetos on the top shelf, will you? Two bags, please.” She was trying to send some different things to Nathan this time. Spotting the rack of beef jerky, she ignored the high price and threw several packages in a variety of flavors into her cart.
“Girl, stop doubting yourself so much.” Leaning closer, he lowered his voice. “I may not like women, but I have eyes. You’re sexy as hell. Trust me. That man is on the hook, and you just need to reel him in a little. He’ll be putty in those hands of yours. Oh, and if you need any blow job tips, just let me know.” Straightening, he whistled as he strode further down the aisle to the beer, leaving her gaping after him.
“Blow job tips?” she said to herself softly, stunned at the direction their conversation had gone in a heartbeat. Had she fallen down a damn rabbit hole? What world did she live in now, where she owned a ranch and had a gay best friend offering tips on giving hummers?
Chuckling and deciding to go with it, she followed Mr. Blowie Expert, snagging a twelve pack of beer for herself.
Arriving back at the ranch after dropping Jeremiah at his place, she was hauling the last of the bags inside when she heard a vehicle coming down the driveway. Thinking Jeremiah must have forgotten something in her truck, she waited just inside the screen door for him to pull up. Only the silver, mid-sized sedan coming toward her in a cloud of dust wasn’t what she’d expected to see.
Warning bells clanged in her head, and she stepped back deeper into the shadows of the door. The car stopped next to her truck and shut off. The windshield was dusty and shadowed, making it impossible for her to see who was inside. The car’s engine ticked as it cooled, and Willow waited patiently, glancing down at her shotgun in its normal place by the door. Patting her pockets, she realized her cell phone was in the kitchen, and she didn’t want to take her eyes off the car long enough to retrieve it.
The driver’s door swung open, and the man that emerged set her teeth on edge.
Andrew.
As a litany of curses ran through her head, she didn’t move, not wanting to give her presence away. Ethel came slinking out from the shade of the porch and approached the unwanted visitor. She’d almost doubled in size since Willow had adopted her. Andrew scowled down at the cat, making a move as if he was going to kick her.
“You kick my cat, and you’re not going to like the consequences,” she barked.
His head jerked up, and his foot returned to the gravel, leaving Ethel unharmed. “Willow? Where are you?”
