Page 33
Story: Hello Heartbreaker
His lips twitched to the side. “Wouldn’t want it getting cold.”
17
RHETT
I backedmy truck to the view and got out, pulling out the picnic blanket from the back seat. While Maggie held the takeout containers, I lowered the tailgate and spread the blanket out for us to sit. Then she opened one of the containers as I set my favorite playlist to play on my phone and pushed it back on the truck bed.
I leaned on one side of the back while she rested her back against the other, sitting cross-legged. Something about having her here, in this place that held all my wishes for the future—it set my heart at ease.
Chewing her sandwich, Maggie said, “This is so freaking good.”
I chuckled. “I almost forgot...” I reached for the cooler on the bed of the pickup and dug through the ice. “Gatorade? Beer? Lemonade?”
“Lemonade,” she replied.
I rubbed the bottle on my jeans to dry it off and cracked the seal on the lid before passing it her way.
“Thanks.” She took a drink and then set it down beside her. “So tell me. What have you been up to all these years?”
I laughed. “That answer might take a while.”
She gestured around us. “I’m kidnapped. I think I have time for the villain’s monologue.”
I smiled, shaking my head at her. I loved her sense of humor. Lord knew she’d need it to be with me. “After—well, after.” I reached into the cooler and took a drink of lemonade, imagining tasting it on her lips. “I moved back here and got a job as a tractor mechanic. Hated every fucking second.”
She laughed. “Really?”
I nodded. “You try working in a tin shop all day with farmers breathing down your neck about their shit not getting done fast enough.”
“Way worse than an air-conditioned salon,” she agreed.
“Although, tractors can’t talk back or complain about their paint job.”
She laughed, and the sound made music with the wind rustling through the grass. “Good point.”
“It was good money,” I said, “but I only lasted there a couple years. Then I got a job farming with the Gremleys. That was alright, except I like ranching better. So after a few years, when the Finnigans needed a hired hand on their ranch, I jumped on the opportunity. I still have to farm sometimes, but mostly it’s working with cattle. Been there for almost nine years now.”
She smiled. “You left out the part where you coach your niece’s softball team.”
I waved my hands in the air, shutting down that idea. “This is a one-time thing,” I said. “I’m shit with little kids. You know Tessa’s mom told me she started calling her little brother ‘shithead’ after the first practice? I only said it once!”
She giggled. “Tessa’s mom asked me to talk with you too.”
I shook my head. “I know I shouldn’t cuss so much, but not a lot of words feel as good as ‘fuck’ does.”
Her cheeks warmed, and suddenly I realized what I said. Fuck happened to be my favorite word and the activity I most wanted to do with Maggie. But I had to keep it in my pants if I wanted a chance with her. I needed to prove I was different than I used to be.
“Anyway. I’d rather just hang out with my nieces and nephews at Wednesday night dinners or family vacations and not fuck up in front of their friends too.”
“And the rodeos?” she asked. “Ever thought about bull riding professionally?”
“Fuck no.” I laughed. “I know I act all tough, but I think I’d miss Cottonwood Falls too much.”
She smiled, glancing around as she chewed on a French fry. “There really is no place like home.” When she looked back my way, she said, “You never did tell me about that scar on your neck.”
“Story for another day,” I said, picking up my sandwich to eat. “I’ve been talking about myself too long. What about you? I’m surprised no one’s married you up.” Even if it would have hurt me like hell, I knew she was a girl worth holding on to.
She smiled slightly. “I’ve come close a couple times.”
17
RHETT
I backedmy truck to the view and got out, pulling out the picnic blanket from the back seat. While Maggie held the takeout containers, I lowered the tailgate and spread the blanket out for us to sit. Then she opened one of the containers as I set my favorite playlist to play on my phone and pushed it back on the truck bed.
I leaned on one side of the back while she rested her back against the other, sitting cross-legged. Something about having her here, in this place that held all my wishes for the future—it set my heart at ease.
Chewing her sandwich, Maggie said, “This is so freaking good.”
I chuckled. “I almost forgot...” I reached for the cooler on the bed of the pickup and dug through the ice. “Gatorade? Beer? Lemonade?”
“Lemonade,” she replied.
I rubbed the bottle on my jeans to dry it off and cracked the seal on the lid before passing it her way.
“Thanks.” She took a drink and then set it down beside her. “So tell me. What have you been up to all these years?”
I laughed. “That answer might take a while.”
She gestured around us. “I’m kidnapped. I think I have time for the villain’s monologue.”
I smiled, shaking my head at her. I loved her sense of humor. Lord knew she’d need it to be with me. “After—well, after.” I reached into the cooler and took a drink of lemonade, imagining tasting it on her lips. “I moved back here and got a job as a tractor mechanic. Hated every fucking second.”
She laughed. “Really?”
I nodded. “You try working in a tin shop all day with farmers breathing down your neck about their shit not getting done fast enough.”
“Way worse than an air-conditioned salon,” she agreed.
“Although, tractors can’t talk back or complain about their paint job.”
She laughed, and the sound made music with the wind rustling through the grass. “Good point.”
“It was good money,” I said, “but I only lasted there a couple years. Then I got a job farming with the Gremleys. That was alright, except I like ranching better. So after a few years, when the Finnigans needed a hired hand on their ranch, I jumped on the opportunity. I still have to farm sometimes, but mostly it’s working with cattle. Been there for almost nine years now.”
She smiled. “You left out the part where you coach your niece’s softball team.”
I waved my hands in the air, shutting down that idea. “This is a one-time thing,” I said. “I’m shit with little kids. You know Tessa’s mom told me she started calling her little brother ‘shithead’ after the first practice? I only said it once!”
She giggled. “Tessa’s mom asked me to talk with you too.”
I shook my head. “I know I shouldn’t cuss so much, but not a lot of words feel as good as ‘fuck’ does.”
Her cheeks warmed, and suddenly I realized what I said. Fuck happened to be my favorite word and the activity I most wanted to do with Maggie. But I had to keep it in my pants if I wanted a chance with her. I needed to prove I was different than I used to be.
“Anyway. I’d rather just hang out with my nieces and nephews at Wednesday night dinners or family vacations and not fuck up in front of their friends too.”
“And the rodeos?” she asked. “Ever thought about bull riding professionally?”
“Fuck no.” I laughed. “I know I act all tough, but I think I’d miss Cottonwood Falls too much.”
She smiled, glancing around as she chewed on a French fry. “There really is no place like home.” When she looked back my way, she said, “You never did tell me about that scar on your neck.”
“Story for another day,” I said, picking up my sandwich to eat. “I’ve been talking about myself too long. What about you? I’m surprised no one’s married you up.” Even if it would have hurt me like hell, I knew she was a girl worth holding on to.
She smiled slightly. “I’ve come close a couple times.”
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