Trailer Park Heart
Page 20
I had intended to go right back to their table, but I got busy helping other customers and then Brett came back and asked me a question about our schedules this coming week. Soon fifteen minutes had passed, and I hadn’t even made a complete circuit of our outdoor dining area yet.
“Table for three please,” a rough male voice asked from behind me.
I was at the edge of the seating area, picking up the tip left behind and pocketing the signed receipt in my apron, so there was no one nearby to confuse me with. I knew he was talking to me.
Even though the host stand was all the way across the makeshift dining area.
“You’ll have to check in with the hostess,” I said to Levi without looking up. “I’m not sure if we have anything available tonight.”
That was a lie. The seating area was almost empty after nine o’clock. Everyone had eaten their fill and moved to dancing on the courthouse green.
“I don’t trust the hostess to give us a good table.”
I finally stopped staring at the same spot on the stained white tablecloth in front of me and found Levi’s bright green gaze watching me. He was particularly alarming beneath the milky glow of the moon and the sparkle coming from the twinkle lights.
On closer inspection than earlier tonight, he was wearing a flannel shirt, pushed up at his forearms and a simple pair of dark wash jeans, I could hardly stand to look at him. My fingers itched to rub his closely shaved head and feel the prickly short strands against my palms. I noticed worn brown cowboy boots and nearly asked him where he’d forgotten his hat. He was like a Marlborough Man ad only without the cigarettes.
The lyrics, cowboy, take me away, suddenly danced through my thoughts like I had somehow wandered into a live-action Dawson’s Creek episode or something.
“She’s a nice girl,” I told him, shaking my head to chase away my crazy, stupid, lustful thoughts. “Just smile at her. She’ll let you sit wherever you want. Maybe even her lap if you ask real nice.”
His low rumble of a laugh chased after me in our darkened section of the temporary seating area. “I don’t think that’s true.”
I held his gaze. “Let’s make a bet.”
“I’d rather you sat me, Ruby. I’ll smile at you if that helps.”
“It won’t,” I rushed to tell him, but he’d already loosed his weapon of mass destruction. His lips stretched over straight white teeth and that dangerous dimple appeared just to the left of his mouth. I felt my knees tremble and willed my body to keep from accidentally swooning. “I’m immune to your charm.”
“You always have been.”
That wasn’t exactly true, now was it? Not that I’d admit that to him. Or anyone. I barely admitted it to myself.
My hand landed on my hip in frustration. “Then why are you bugging me to take you to a table?”
“Why are you acting like I’m the bug you tried to squish that just won’t die?”
Leaning forward, I finally lost my cool and snapped, “Why won’t you just die? Maybe that’s a better question!” But I instantly thought of Logan and regretted my words. I wanted to snatch them from the air between us and shove them back in my mouth. I shouldn’t have said that. I shouldn’t have taunted him like that.
He didn’t seem to notice my faux pas though. He was entirely fixated on something else. Me. He took three steps and closed the distance between us, towering over me. I wondered if he could crush me with his brute strength and gigantic hands.
I wondered if he was about to try.
“The last time we were together I kissed you, Ruby. And don’t tell me you were drunk. I know you remember.”
Nibbling on my bottom lip, I ignored the pain that slashed across my chest. “How do you know I remember?”
“Because it was a damn near unforgettable kiss,” he growled, his mouth just inches from mine.
My throat dried out and I struggled to swallow. He could kiss me again. Right now. Just like the first time.
It had truly been an unforgettable kiss. It had been my first real kiss and nothing I’d ever experienced had ever been able to compete with it—no matter how hard I’d tried. It had been passion and promise, anger and truth. He’d kissed me on the balcony of Kristen’s house and I knew I would never be the same again.
And then he’d gone back inside to find Kristen and I’d slept with his older brother.
His older brother that was dead now.
His older brother that was the father of my six-year-old little boy.
7
Breaking (Old) News
I tried to form words, but I couldn’t even manage a sound. Things had shifted between Levi and me that night. We’d gone from high school rivals to… something else. And for his part, he’d tried to reach out to me the remainder of that summer.
He’d left for a family vacation the next day, but he’d called me. I hadn’t answered. I’d had immense guilt about sleeping with Logan, even though I had been in love with Logan for as long as I could remember.
It hadn’t made sense at the time. I hated Levi. He’d been a thorn in my side since we were kids. And Logan… Logan had been the man of my dreams.
Why was I so miserable afterward? I’d lost my virginity that night to a man I supposedly loved and yet it was the kiss with Levi that was burned in my memory… branded on my skin.
Since that night, even with his tragic death, I realized I didn’t love Logan. Not in the real sense of the word. It was a crush. The kind of crush that was intense and overwhelming and born from a lifetime of not knowing what real love was, but it was only a crush. And it had only been on my side.
Logan was a nice guy, but the night we’d spent together didn’t mean anything to him. It was obvious the second my virginity had disappeared, and the evening was over.
Logan and I had been friends, but any kind of feelings were one-sided on my part. He was just a nice guy. A high school kid that had been able to see past my status and get to know me as a person. A boy that had been fun to laugh with and talk to. A friend I’d missed after he’d graduated. A decent first time. And he would have stayed all those things if Max hadn’t come into the picture.
Now things were more complicated.
Especially with Levi.
Levi had called. And then called again. And then called at least twenty more times over the next few months.
By the time I’d worked up the courage to face him, at least over the phone, I’d been late—too late to make an excuse for why I kept missing his phone calls.
And then I found out I was pregnant.
Six weeks after the positive plus sign on my home pregnancy test, before I could fully process what to do with the baby or my life or the future, Logan had been killed in the desert where he was stationed somewhere in the Middle East. IED. Three men in his unit were lost. But Logan’s death had hit Clark City like an explosion of its own.
Everyone mourned our heroic golden boy. No one knew how to recover or move on or go on with life. Nothing was certain anymore. Hope was gone.
Logan Cole was the epitome of perfect. At least to this town. He’d been smart, musical, athletic, skilled in all things farming, ranching, and cowboying. He was class president and valedictorian and student council vice president and captain of the football, basketball, and soccer teams. His list of accolades went on and on.
It was easy to see how I’d fallen so quickly for him. Not to mention, freshman year, when he’d been a junior, we had Spanish class together. He always sat by me and let me borrow his pencil. I told him I liked his hair. He told me he loved my style—grunge meets goth with a side of cowgirl.
“Table for three please,” a rough male voice asked from behind me.
I was at the edge of the seating area, picking up the tip left behind and pocketing the signed receipt in my apron, so there was no one nearby to confuse me with. I knew he was talking to me.
Even though the host stand was all the way across the makeshift dining area.
“You’ll have to check in with the hostess,” I said to Levi without looking up. “I’m not sure if we have anything available tonight.”
That was a lie. The seating area was almost empty after nine o’clock. Everyone had eaten their fill and moved to dancing on the courthouse green.
“I don’t trust the hostess to give us a good table.”
I finally stopped staring at the same spot on the stained white tablecloth in front of me and found Levi’s bright green gaze watching me. He was particularly alarming beneath the milky glow of the moon and the sparkle coming from the twinkle lights.
On closer inspection than earlier tonight, he was wearing a flannel shirt, pushed up at his forearms and a simple pair of dark wash jeans, I could hardly stand to look at him. My fingers itched to rub his closely shaved head and feel the prickly short strands against my palms. I noticed worn brown cowboy boots and nearly asked him where he’d forgotten his hat. He was like a Marlborough Man ad only without the cigarettes.
The lyrics, cowboy, take me away, suddenly danced through my thoughts like I had somehow wandered into a live-action Dawson’s Creek episode or something.
“She’s a nice girl,” I told him, shaking my head to chase away my crazy, stupid, lustful thoughts. “Just smile at her. She’ll let you sit wherever you want. Maybe even her lap if you ask real nice.”
His low rumble of a laugh chased after me in our darkened section of the temporary seating area. “I don’t think that’s true.”
I held his gaze. “Let’s make a bet.”
“I’d rather you sat me, Ruby. I’ll smile at you if that helps.”
“It won’t,” I rushed to tell him, but he’d already loosed his weapon of mass destruction. His lips stretched over straight white teeth and that dangerous dimple appeared just to the left of his mouth. I felt my knees tremble and willed my body to keep from accidentally swooning. “I’m immune to your charm.”
“You always have been.”
That wasn’t exactly true, now was it? Not that I’d admit that to him. Or anyone. I barely admitted it to myself.
My hand landed on my hip in frustration. “Then why are you bugging me to take you to a table?”
“Why are you acting like I’m the bug you tried to squish that just won’t die?”
Leaning forward, I finally lost my cool and snapped, “Why won’t you just die? Maybe that’s a better question!” But I instantly thought of Logan and regretted my words. I wanted to snatch them from the air between us and shove them back in my mouth. I shouldn’t have said that. I shouldn’t have taunted him like that.
He didn’t seem to notice my faux pas though. He was entirely fixated on something else. Me. He took three steps and closed the distance between us, towering over me. I wondered if he could crush me with his brute strength and gigantic hands.
I wondered if he was about to try.
“The last time we were together I kissed you, Ruby. And don’t tell me you were drunk. I know you remember.”
Nibbling on my bottom lip, I ignored the pain that slashed across my chest. “How do you know I remember?”
“Because it was a damn near unforgettable kiss,” he growled, his mouth just inches from mine.
My throat dried out and I struggled to swallow. He could kiss me again. Right now. Just like the first time.
It had truly been an unforgettable kiss. It had been my first real kiss and nothing I’d ever experienced had ever been able to compete with it—no matter how hard I’d tried. It had been passion and promise, anger and truth. He’d kissed me on the balcony of Kristen’s house and I knew I would never be the same again.
And then he’d gone back inside to find Kristen and I’d slept with his older brother.
His older brother that was dead now.
His older brother that was the father of my six-year-old little boy.
7
Breaking (Old) News
I tried to form words, but I couldn’t even manage a sound. Things had shifted between Levi and me that night. We’d gone from high school rivals to… something else. And for his part, he’d tried to reach out to me the remainder of that summer.
He’d left for a family vacation the next day, but he’d called me. I hadn’t answered. I’d had immense guilt about sleeping with Logan, even though I had been in love with Logan for as long as I could remember.
It hadn’t made sense at the time. I hated Levi. He’d been a thorn in my side since we were kids. And Logan… Logan had been the man of my dreams.
Why was I so miserable afterward? I’d lost my virginity that night to a man I supposedly loved and yet it was the kiss with Levi that was burned in my memory… branded on my skin.
Since that night, even with his tragic death, I realized I didn’t love Logan. Not in the real sense of the word. It was a crush. The kind of crush that was intense and overwhelming and born from a lifetime of not knowing what real love was, but it was only a crush. And it had only been on my side.
Logan was a nice guy, but the night we’d spent together didn’t mean anything to him. It was obvious the second my virginity had disappeared, and the evening was over.
Logan and I had been friends, but any kind of feelings were one-sided on my part. He was just a nice guy. A high school kid that had been able to see past my status and get to know me as a person. A boy that had been fun to laugh with and talk to. A friend I’d missed after he’d graduated. A decent first time. And he would have stayed all those things if Max hadn’t come into the picture.
Now things were more complicated.
Especially with Levi.
Levi had called. And then called again. And then called at least twenty more times over the next few months.
By the time I’d worked up the courage to face him, at least over the phone, I’d been late—too late to make an excuse for why I kept missing his phone calls.
And then I found out I was pregnant.
Six weeks after the positive plus sign on my home pregnancy test, before I could fully process what to do with the baby or my life or the future, Logan had been killed in the desert where he was stationed somewhere in the Middle East. IED. Three men in his unit were lost. But Logan’s death had hit Clark City like an explosion of its own.
Everyone mourned our heroic golden boy. No one knew how to recover or move on or go on with life. Nothing was certain anymore. Hope was gone.
Logan Cole was the epitome of perfect. At least to this town. He’d been smart, musical, athletic, skilled in all things farming, ranching, and cowboying. He was class president and valedictorian and student council vice president and captain of the football, basketball, and soccer teams. His list of accolades went on and on.
It was easy to see how I’d fallen so quickly for him. Not to mention, freshman year, when he’d been a junior, we had Spanish class together. He always sat by me and let me borrow his pencil. I told him I liked his hair. He told me he loved my style—grunge meets goth with a side of cowgirl.
