Page 65 of Rough Cowboy
Chapter Twelve
SILVER
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ITAKE AN ICE-COLDshower. I wince under the frigid water, but I need something to get my morning wood under control. I ain’t rubbing one out thinking about Elsie when we have the whole day to sneak away. And sneak away is what we’re going to have to do.
I’m not surprised when I find Wilma in my bedroom. The Quylt sisters have no sense of privacy.
“Wilma.” I tilt my head in a curt nod. “Are there holes in my socks?”
I generally air dry, but I changed into a grey T-shirt and denim in the bathroom with the full house.
“When we start collecting material from parents, it’s at a young age. Easy quilts are the ones where each person is from Whiskey Ridge Creek. For example, Ford and Hope’s quilt was picked out long before it was hand-sewn—Beck and Lydia’s too. But you and Wheeler are different. The loves of your life aren’t from here. We don’t have patches saved up.”
I toss my clothes in the wicker hamper and lean my hip against the dresser. “You have lots of patches.”
“We do, but is there anything special you’d like us to add? A patch before she was pregnant?”
“What the hell would I have from before she was pregnant?”
“A pair of jeans from your first hookup.” I cringe at the older woman’s reference to hooking up. It’s almost as bad as my granddad and Grammy Fox. Almost.
I open my mouth to scoff at her, but a memory hits me.
“I do have something.” I push off the dresser and grab my bag out of the closet. I dig through the side pocket until I find a red hand towel with a red heart embroidered and the name of the tacky love motel.
“This is from our first Valentine’s Day together.” I hand it to her. “We weren’t nothing but friends with benefits at this time, but it’s a good memory.”
I don’t tell her it was the first time I spent the entire night with a woman—wanted to spend the night.
“Perfect.” Seeing a smile on this woman’s face is rare, but that’s what she gives me.
I wish my brother’s reaction would be similar, but I know better. He’s going to be a bitch to convince.
“Thank you, Silver.” She turns on the heel of her cowboy heel and retreats.
“Thank you.” I’ve never been one to give the love quilts much thought, but I sure as hell can’t wait to see the one they’ve crafted for us.
I stroll down the hallway to the kitchen. Elsie will be at least another half hour before she exits her bedroom. A half-hour bath or shower and a half-hour of makeup, hair, and clothes.
She’s high maintenance. There’s no doubt. But when it comes to jumping in the creek fully clothed, makeup and all, she’ll do it and enjoy splashing around with mascara running down her face. Or climb on a mechanical bull and get off looking like she tore through a tornado. I wouldn’t want her any other way.
My ma is in the kitchen, and I smell her delicious barbecued beef sandwiches.
I kiss the side of her head. “Good morning.”
“Almost afternoon.” She lifts the lid to stir the tender and juicy meat that’s undoubtedly been simmering in her homemade overnight. The rich sweet smoke aroma is mouth-watering.
“Smells delicious.” I make myself a cup of coffee and lean against the counter.
The quilters circle chatter around the dining room table in hushed voices. I’m sure the main attraction is our love quilt. Outside, I see the mayor barking around orders.
