Chapter Twenty-Seven
ANDIE CLAIMS SHE WOKE ME up to give me pills and that I actually sat up and took them, but I have very little memory of that. It all just feels like a dream. Especially that part where I dreamed Ian was sleeping with me, keeping me warm, snuggling up behind me. I guess a twelve hour nap will cause a person to kind of lose touch with reality.
“You’re not going anywhere,” Andie says, frowning at me. “You have a concussion and you’ve slept for twelve hours.”
“I have a slight concussion, first of all, and as you said, I’ve had plenty of sleep. I’m just going to tag along with Ian for an hour or so and then he’s going to bring me back home.”
“I am?” Ian says, walking into the kitchen and going to the refrigerator.
“Yes.”
“Where exactly are we going?” He takes out a jug of milk and pours himself a giant glass of it.
“To Boog’s party, remember?”
He pauses with the glass halfway to his mouth. “Uhhhh… say what?”
Andie sits back and smiles, adjusting Sarah on her boob for the hundredth time. “See? He wasn’t even planning on going.”
I give Ian my death-is-coming-for-you stare and he blinks in response. Then he drinks the entire glass of milk in one large swallow. It leaves a big milk mustache above his lip that he ignores.
“He was too planning on going, right Ian?” I raise both eyebrows into my hairline.
He looks at Andie’s scolding gaze and my unspoken threat and he nods. “Yes. Absolutely. Leaving in a half hour.” He couldn’t be more adorable than he is right now, being my slave with that milk on his lip. I want to eat him up.
I smile and nod. “See? We won’t be gone long.”
“Nope,” Ian agrees, wiping his mouth off with the back of his hand. “We have to get back to feed the calf, so we can’t stay out late.”
Andie shakes her head. “You two are just bound and determined to get yourselves into trouble, aren’t you?”
“Who us?” Ian asks.
I stand up. “Yeah, who us?” My best innocent expression jumps in to save the day. “I’m just being social, getting out of the house, meeting some of Ian’s friends.” I back out of the kitchen down the hallway. “You can go with us if you want, Andie.” It’s mean, but I’m hoping she’ll decline my invitation.
“No, thanks. You guys go ahead.” She says something in a lower tone to Ian, but I don’t hear it. I’m too focused on getting upstairs and finding something decent to wear. I ignore the pain in my head and arm as I mentally comb through the wardrobe I brought with me. Thank goodness I already did my hair and makeup.
I’m inside Mack’s room changing when Ian knocks on the door.
“I’m not dressed. Just wait a second.” I shove my legs into my jeans, breathing hard when it makes my stitches pull and sting like a bejesus.
“You sure this is a good idea?” His muffled voice comes through the door. “I don’t think we should go. You’re still messed up.”
“No, I’m not still messed up. I’m doing just fine, thank you very much.” Everybody is treating me like a baby here. I have fifteen stitches and a bump on my head. Big deal. I burn myself almost daily at work and stand on my feet for twelve hours at a time with my arms up like bird wings. This is nothing.
“Boog’s parties aren’t fun.”
“Boog’s parties have never had me there.”
“You gonna wear your new pants?”
I throw open the door and let him take a long look at me. “You wish.” I know I look amazing. I have my best cleavage shirt on and a pair of skin tight pants that have the pockets bedazzled just the tiniest bit. Ka-chow! Cowgirl awesome? Yes, ma’am. I define the look.
His jaw goes off center and then he backs up. “I’m gonna change my hat.”
I laugh. “Don’t you dare wear that ugly green one.” I actually like the green one, so I’m testing him to see if he rises to the bait.
When I meet him down in the foyer two minutes later I go all warm inside. He has a black cowboy hat on and a black dress shirt tucked into jeans that were absolutely made for his butt.
I have a hard time breathing. Seriously. This man is dangerous. I’ll bet he has all kinds of stalkers and he probably doesn’t even know it. I’m going to be paying extra special attention to the chicks at this party to see who’s giving him those kinds of looks.
“Ready?” he asks.
“Ready.” I look at the coat hooks and frown, distracted from admiring him by my minor wardrobe malfunction. “I don’t have a jacket again.”
He nods. “You’re kind of murder on coats, aren’t you?”
“Superheros do what they have to do, what can I say.”
He takes a puffy black one off the hook. “Here. This is Andie’s. She won’t mind. Try not to get attacked by a cougar in it.”
I put it on and admire myself in the hallway mirror. I do look pretty cute, if I do say so myself. It cheers me up even more. I’m so ready to have a drink and share some gossip. My plan is to get one of these chicks from Baker City to spill the beans … figure out what Ian’s deal is and why Andie doesn’t have any friends here. Kill two birds with one party.
“How’s Candy doing?” I ask as I trudge through the snow to the truck. The knit hat I found in the pocket of Andie’s coat is making me a lot warmer than I expected. Maybe it’ll be worth messing my hair up a little bit to stay warm on some part of my body. My hands are jammed in the pockets but already freezing cold.
“She’s good. She misses you, though.”
I look out towards the barn, feeling like a really bad cow mommy. “Ooooh … maybe I should go say hi before we leave.”
He opens my door for me. “You can say hi when we come back if you want. We need to get to Boog’s sooner rather than later.”
“Why?” I ask, trying to read his expression as I climb up into my seat. As usual he’s got his poker face on.
He slams the door shut and comes around, getting in and buckling up. “Because. People get drunk and stupid after ten.”
“I hear that’s your style of partying,” I say, not looking at him.
“Who says that?” He pulls out onto the rough road that leads to the highway. The headlights make the drifts of snow look like lions. Lots and lots of lions. It makes me break out in goosebumps which then makes my stitches burn.
“Ohhh, people. Where’s my gun, by the way?”
“Under the seat. Don’t take it into the party.”
“I wasn’t going to.” I roll my eyes.
“Who says I do that?” he asks again.
“Is it true?”
He pauses before answering. Then he shrugs. “Maybe.”
“Why?”
“Why what?” He’s playing dumb.
“Why do you do stupid things like that?”
“It’s not stupid to have fun.”
“Are you really having fun, though?”
He doesn’t say anything for a long time. Mostly he just stares out at the road scowling.
“I guess things have kind of sucked for you since your wedding was called off.”
“You could say that.”
“I just did.” I smile at him, trying to ease the pressure off the conversation. I love talking to him and I want to know all his secrets, but I know that won’t happen if he knows I’m digging into his life. I have to be stealth about it.
He smiles vaguely and then goes back to scowling. I can’t tell if he’s doing it because he’s mad or because the snow keeps falling and making it hard to see the road.
“Have you had any girlfriends since Ginny?”
“Define girlfriend.”
“Girl you spent time with not drinking and screwing. Girl you hang out with when you could have been doing something else. Girl you spent quality time with. Girl you do nice things for. Girl you want to smooch all night.”
He laughs once. “I guess that makes you my girlfriend.”
That renders me speechless for all of about ten seconds. “Ha, ha, you wish.”
He shrugs. “Hey, you’re the one always trying to see me naked. I figured the feeling was mutual.”
My jaw drops open. “What? You’re crazy. Nobody’s trying to see anybody naked.” My ears are burning. Maybe Ian does read minds after all.
I let the conversation subside after that. I thought I was going to have to use a crowbar to get him to talk, but all of a sudden he’s jumping into me liking him and trying to see him naked. I can’t show up at this party not a hundred percent on my game, and talking to him about these dangerous topics definitely throws me off. My ears will not stop burning.
“What’s the matter?” he asks when we’re finally on the highway. “Cat got your tongue?”
“Nope. Just done talking.” I stare out the side window, even though there’s nothing to see.
“Conversation get a little too hot for ya?”
I snort. “As if.”
“So you admit you’ve been trying to see me naked.”
I have to laugh at his gall. “No. I admit nothing.”
“See, you just admitted it right there.”
I slap him with the back of my hand. “Watch it or I’ll get my gun out.”
“Man, you’re dangerous.”
“You got that right.” I love being called dangerous. That’s probably a bad sign, but oh well.
“And here I thought you were some fluff-headed girl from the city, softer than a lamb’s belly.”
“I am from the city, my hair is fluffy, and I am definitely soft. Not sure how soft a lamb’s belly is, but I moisturize every day, so … yeah. You’ve got me pegged.”
He laughs. “Sometimes I can’t tell if you’re messing with me or not.”
Likewise, my seriously hot cowboy crush, likewise. But I’m not going to tell you that.
The lights of the town are coming into view, so I use the opportunity to change the subject. I don’t like it when he talks about his impressions of me. They never sound very complimentary.
“How far into town does Boog live?”
“Not far. We’re just five minutes away now. You chickening out?”
“Hell no. I don’t chicken out.”
“I noticed that about you.” He stops at a red light, the first stoplight off the exit. “You’re pretty damn brave, actually.”
“I am?” I look at him to see if he’s joking.
“Hell yeah, you are. You killed a cougar. Saved my ass.”
My heart drops. “Did I really kill it?”
His voice loses its excitement. “Well, no, you just tagged it. I did the killing.”
I can’t help the tremor in my voice. “Are you just saying that to be nice?”
He lowers his chin and looks up at me. “Does that sound like something I’d do?”
“Yes.”
He goes back to driving, the light now green. “I thought I was a hell-raising bad news kind of guy.”
“You are a hell-raiser or so I hear. That doesn’t make you bad news or not nice.”
“Tell that to Andie.”
“Tell her yourself. You just sit there and let people believe what they want to believe, so you can hardly fault them when they jump to the wrong conclusions about you.”
“Who says they’re wrong conclusions?” he asks, turning right into a neighborhood of small houses with large front lawns.
“Me. I say it.”
He pulls up to a curb and shuts off the engine. “You don’t know me well enough to say that.”
“Oh, yes I do.” I unbuckle. “Are we here? I need a beer.”
He smiles. “One beer, coming up.” He opens his door and jumps out. “Hang on, I’ll get your door.” His door slams shut, rocking the whole truck, and then he’s at my window. “Watch your step,” he says. “Ground’s real slippery.”
I’m warm from my head to my toes, but not because of my jacket or my boots. Ian’s being a total prince and the connection between us is undeniable. I know he feels it too. It’s almost like we’re a couple, and we haven’t even really officially kissed yet. Yet. That one in the hospital didn’t count since it was fake, not fueled by passion. I fully intend to kiss him at or after this party, though. I can’t wait anymore.
He holds out his elbow so I can hook my hand through his arm. I do it not only because it helps me walk over the slippery ground without falling but also because I want all the chicks in this town to know that for as long as I’m here, he’s mine. Mine all mine all mine.
The snow crunches under our feet as we walk across someone’s front lawn. “I hope you aren’t expecting anything too fancy,” Ian says. “Boog isn’t the most sophisticated guy in town.”
“Oh, don’t worry about me. I can party with anyone.” The hair and beauty business attracts all types of people, and I’ve never been one to discriminate.
The sound of heavy rock music comes from the house even though it’s shut up tight. “This is it,” Ian says, stopping just at the bottom of the front steps. “Last chance to turn back.”
I stop, facing him. “You can’t scare me away from this, Ian.”
He looks down at me and smiles. I can’t see his eyes very well, the shadow from the brim of his hat making them pure darkness, but I know they’re twinkling. “Not trying to scare you. Just giving you a chance to change your mind. I hear most women do that a lot.”
“I’m not most women. Once I decide to do something, I do it.”
“Well, you’re right about one thing,” he says, walking up the stairs and letting go of my arm to take the door.
“What’s that?”
He pulls the door open, letting the heat and the noise blast into me. “You’re not like most women, that’s for sure.”