“Bet I can handle it.”
“I wouldn’t bet against a cowboy firefighter EMT.” She motioned toward the sack. “But right now, I’m going for your bait.”
“That I can deliver.” He grinned, feeling his world slide back into place.
“You’d better,” she said with a lilting tease in her voice.
“I might even do you one better. I bet Ruby’s got some towels stashed around here.”
“I wouldn’t mind getting some of the water out of my hair.”
He walked over to a cabinet where he knew Ruby kept paper towels, napkins, and other such kitchen stuff. He opened a door, found kitchen towels, shook his head in disappointment, then tried another door and hit pay dirt. He pulled out three white bath towels and headed back to Misty where she stood by the table, dripping water down the length of her.
“Want me to dry you?” he asked with a suggestive tone in his voice.
“No thanks.” She chuckled as she held out her hands. “I believe I still know how to do it.”
“But where’s the fun in that?” He couldn’t resist teasing her, but his words held a kernel of truth, too.
She simply shook her head at him as she accepted two towels. She blotted her face, smearing her makeup a bit, before she wrapped a towel around her hair. She quickly patted down her body before she folded the towel, set it on a chair, sat down, and sighed in contentment.
He dropped his folded towel on the seat next to her. He wasn’t about to try and sluice off his jeans. Wouldn’t help much and he’d look like a wimp. Besides, they’d both air-dry pretty quick in the dry heat. He sat down, feeling a sense of satisfaction. Long, hard day followed by tasty barbeque and fine companionship made life right. He ripped open the food sack, pulled out beers, set them out, and then placed a white, square container of food in front of each of them. Last, he tossed her a bag with a fork and napkin.
“Don’t say a word about the utensils.” He grinned. “Ruby already raked me over the coals for improper table settings.”
“Reminds me, where are the tablecloth and candles?”
“Don’t even go there.”
She chuckled as she pulled the towel from her head, set it in a crumpled heap on the table, and fluffed out her damp hair. She tore open the cellophane package and took out her fork and napkin. “I doubt this flimsy napkin will be enough. I like my barbeque messy.”
“That’s why I brought the paper towels.”
“Good thing.” She grabbed a handful and slid the rest toward him.
He flipped open the plastic lid to his barbeque.
“Smells wonderful.” She opened her container, too. “You brought ribs?”
“Don’t you like them?” He glanced at her in surprise.
“You brought a lady the messiest food you could order.”
“Can’t fool me. That’s just the way you like it.”
“Right.” She pointed a rib at him. “I’m so hungry I could eat a horse—”
“And chase the rider.”
“Spoilsport.”
“Already heard that one today.”
“Aren’t we sensitive?”
“What I am is hungry.” And he started in on his ribs, a tender, tasty treat if ever there was one.
As they scarfed up curly fries, jalape?os, potato salad, coleslaw, ribs, and beer, they were silently intent on their food.
Trey heard nothing except the trickling of the spring until a coyote howled an eerie cry in the distance. Soon the animal was joined by a chorus of other coyotes.
Misty tossed down her rib bone. “What is that noise?”
“Coyote pack.”
“Sounds dangerous. Are they allowed to roam free?”
“How are you going to stop them? They were here first. Besides, they’re good rodent hunters, so they help balance the ecosystem.”
“I’ve heard they go after small dogs in towns.”
“Only if their territory has been overrun and they’re starving with no place to go. It’s a shame for coyotes and dogs.”
“I guess Dallas spreading out onto farms and pastures could do it.”
“Yep.”
“But we’re safe?”
“Coyotes are basically shy creatures.” He gave her a mischievous glance, raising one eyebrow. “But if you’d like to sit on my lap, I’d be happy to protect you from any dangerous critters that might happen by. Warm you up, too, since you must be chilled, wet and all.”
She tossed a rib bone at him. “You’re just looking for trouble.”
“If you’d like to give me some, I wouldn’t complain.”
“I’m dripping-dry just fine without your lap.”
“Shame about that.” He shook his head in disappointment.
She laughed. “You’re just bad.”
“And that’s good?”
She tossed another rib bone at him, laughing harder.
“Hey, I’m going to be wearing more barbeque sauce than I’m eating if you keep that up.”
“But that’s good, isn’t it?”
“Now you’re the one who’s looking for trouble.”
“Think I’ve found it?”