Page 2 of The Cowboy and His Beauty
I take my bag upstairs to my room, which is a more modern version of my childhood room. I packed up all my stuff and took it with me, but the colors are still the same. The beautiful blue-gray on the walls took me weeks to choose, and the gorgeous blue sheets with purple and pink flowers I fell in love with are on the bed.
The furniture is the same, but the posters I had on my wall growing up are now replaced with art my mom has bought over the years.
I quickly unpack and put my suitcase in the closet before texting Sarah to let her know I arrived safely. Then I go downstairs, grab the list on the counter, and head out. I pause for a moment and stare at the house next door.
Mac's family owns the lake house next to my parents. They don’t live there permanently and use it for vacations. Sarah spent a lot of time at my house growing up, and during the summers, we swam in the lake. Mac and Sarah met one summer when his family was there. They had an instant connection, though they were friends for many years before either acted on it. The more I think about it, spending some time with them doesn't seem half bad.
Walker Lake is a typical small town. One grocery store and a main street in the center of town—only our main street is more of a town square which leads to the lake and is the heart of the town.
Then there’s the rumor-mill that comes with a small town. One visit to the store and everyone will know I'm home before the end of the day.
The grocery store hasn't changed much. The post office is still attached, so you can get all your groceries, bait, and tackle in one place—live bait, at that. You can't get anything too fancy, but they place bulk orders for the cowboys who stock up and don't have time to head into Amarillo for supplies.
I head up and down the aisles, lost in thought. The layout hasn't changed since I was in school, so I know exactly where everything is. Thankfully, my mom doesn't want anything too extravagant tonight. She settled on chicken parmesan and garlic bread.
Easy enough, but the list also says to grab any breakfasts or snacks I want, so I do that as well. I'm trying to make a game plan for sending in resumes while staying with my parents when I turn and bump into a cowboy.
"I'm sorry," I say as I reach out and grab hold of his arm and steady myself. I look up expecting to know who I ran into but while there’s an air a familiarity, I have no idea who this man is.
His hair is long under his cowboy hat, and his beard conceals his face. His eyes are hard to see under the hat and he doesn't speak, he just nods. When he turns his head, the scar down the side of his face is hard to miss. I'm sure without all the facial hair, it would be jarring. I guess that's why he grew out the thick beard.
I take a step back and trip over my feet. The cowboy reaches out to steady me with his hands on my arms, making sure I'm stable before he lets go. Sparks erupt on my skin where he’s touching me—sparks I haven't felt since my high school boyfriend, Corey.
I wrote those sparks off as teenage hormones and the flush of first love. I never thought I'd feel them again. Did this mysterious cowboy feel them too or was it a figment of my imagination?
He releases me suddenly, but his hands hover over my arms, as if he's ready to catch me again should the need arise.
"Thank you. I'm sorry, I'm not usually this clumsy. I've been driving all day and just got back into town, so I guess I don't have my land legs back yet,” I joke.
He still stays silent, but my words earn me a small smirk. That small rise at the corner of his mouth does things to me I'm not sure I like. His intense gaze settles on my face as if he’s searching for something, and his lack of conversation has me shifting uncomfortably.
"Okay, well, I better get this stuff back to my parents. I'm in town to see them this week," I tell him, reaching for my cart. "Thank you again."
This time, he nods and touches the front of his hat before heading on down the aisle.
I wrap up my shopping and head to the cashier to check out, sensing his eyes the whole time.
Who is this man?
Chapter 2
Dash
I find it amusing that she doesn't recognize me. I can't blame her. I look nothing like my former self with my long hair and thick beard. Not to mention the scar on my face.
My time in the military has changed not only my looks but also the man I used to be. Even my name is different, as I now go by Dash, which was my military nickname. The old version of me doesn't exist anymore.
Sky was my high school sweetheart—the girl I’ll never forget. The one I never got over. She was and always will be the love of my life.
It's crazy to think that I found her so early in life, but I wasn't ready for her then. I was stupid, and I walked away. I missed my chance with her, and I came to terms with that a long time ago. Still, she was the light during some of my darkest hours in the military.
This is the first time I've seen her since the day I left for boot camp. When I came home, I was worried about running into her but relieved to discover she’d moved and taken a job in Dallas.
She hasn't been home much since, even though her parents still live in town. It's easy to avoid her parents. I doubt they even know I'm back. We don't exactly run in the same circles.
But I can't deny those sparks when she crashed into me. Touching her after all this time had those feelings rushing back. Did she not feel them?
The more I think about it, the more I become irritated that she didn't recognize me. I shake my head. I'm a damn mess.
