Authors: Linda Lael Miller
Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Contemporary, #Anthologies (Multiple Authors)
He's the One (4 page)
Determined to restore some semblance of dignity, I put on makeup, styled my hair,
and left the motel again.
and left the motel again.
There was still only one restaurant in Parable, a hole-in-the-wall diner on Main Street,
across from the library. I had to pause on the sidewalk out front and brace myself
to go in.
across from the library. I had to pause on the sidewalk out front and brace myself
to go in.
I was the girl who had done Tristan McCullough wrong, and I knew the locals remembered.
By now, some of them might even know that I’d just done a pool-table mambo with the
golden boy, though I didn’t think Tristan would stoop so low as to screw and tell.
Just the same, I’d be lucky if they didn’t throw me out bodily.
By now, some of them might even know that I’d just done a pool-table mambo with the
golden boy, though I didn’t think Tristan would stoop so low as to screw and tell.
Just the same, I’d be lucky if they didn’t throw me out bodily.
I was starved, and the only other place I could get food was the supermarket. That
would mean going back to the motel for my rental car, shopping for cold cuts and chips,
and huddling in my room to eat.
would mean going back to the motel for my rental car, shopping for cold cuts and chips,
and huddling in my room to eat.
No way I had the strength to do all that.
I needed protein. Immediately.
So I forced myself to go in.
The diner hadn’t changed much since the last time I’d been there. Red vinyl booths,
a long counter, a revolving pie case. There was no hostess, and all the tables were
full.
a long counter, a revolving pie case. There was no hostess, and all the tables were
full.
I took a stool at the counter and reached for a menu. I could feel people staring
at me, but I pretended I had the restaurant to myself. Oh, I was a cool one, all right.
Unless you counted a tendency to boink Tristan McCullough on a pool table with little
or no provocation.
at me, but I pretended I had the restaurant to myself. Oh, I was a cool one, all right.
Unless you counted a tendency to boink Tristan McCullough on a pool table with little
or no provocation.
“Help you, honey?”
I looked up from the menu and met the kindly eyes of an aging waitress. She seemed
vaguely familiar, but I didn’t recognize her name, even when I read it off the little
tag on her uniform.
vaguely familiar, but I didn’t recognize her name, even when I read it off the little
tag on her uniform.
Florence.
“I’ll take the meat loaf special,” I said, looking neither to the left nor right.
“And a diet cola. Large.”
“And a diet cola. Large.”
“Comin’ right up,” Florence assured me, and smiled again.
I relaxed a little. At least there was one person in Parable who didn’t think I ought
to be tarred, feathered, and run out of town on a rail. Make that two—Nancy Beeks,
over at the Lakeside, had been friendly enough.
to be tarred, feathered, and run out of town on a rail. Make that two—Nancy Beeks,
over at the Lakeside, had been friendly enough.
The little bell over the door tinkled as someone entered, and the diner chatter died
an instant death. I knew without turning around that Tristan had just walked in, because
every nerve in my body leaped to instinctual attention.
an instant death. I knew without turning around that Tristan had just walked in, because
every nerve in my body leaped to instinctual attention.
Damn him. He wasn’t going to leave me alone. He’d gotten past my well-maintained defenses
without breaking a sweat. He’d made love to me in an empty tavern. What more did he
have to prove?
without breaking a sweat. He’d made love to me in an empty tavern. What more did he
have to prove?
He took the stool next to mine, reached casually for a menu. He’d showered, too, I
saw out of the corner of my eye, and put on fresh clothes—Levi’s and a blue chambray
shirt. “Fancy meeting you here,” he said, without looking my way.
saw out of the corner of my eye, and put on fresh clothes—Levi’s and a blue chambray
shirt. “Fancy meeting you here,” he said, without looking my way.
“Like it’s a surprise,” I retorted.
Florence set my diet cola down, along with clean silverware. “That special will be
ready in a minute, sweetie,” she told me, before turning her attention to Tristan.
“Hey, there, handsome. You stepping out on me, all slicked up like that?” she teased.
ready in a minute, sweetie,” she told me, before turning her attention to Tristan.
“Hey, there, handsome. You stepping out on me, all slicked up like that?” she teased.
To my satisfaction, color pulsed in Tristan’s neck. “Would I do that to you, Flo?”
She laughed. “Probably,” she said. “Who’s the lucky gal?”
“You wouldn’t know her,” he replied, smooth as could be. “The meat loaf sounds good.
I’ll have that, and a chocolate milk shake.”
I’ll have that, and a chocolate milk shake.”
Flo glanced at me, then looked at Tristan again. Somehow, she’d connected the dots.
She smiled broadly and went off to give the order to the fry cook.
She smiled broadly and went off to give the order to the fry cook.
“How long are you going to be in town?” Tristan still wasn’t looking at me, but I
figured he wasn’t asking the customer on the other side of him. The man had the look
of a longtime resident.
figured he wasn’t asking the customer on the other side of him. The man had the look
of a longtime resident.
“As long as it takes to finalize the sale of the Bronco,” I answered, because I knew
he wouldn’t leave me alone until I did. Tristan was a hard man to ignore. The reference
to the tavern made me squirm, though, because I couldn’t help remembering how many
orgasms I’d had, and how fiercely intense they’d been. I hadn’t exactly kept them
to myself.
he wouldn’t leave me alone until I did. Tristan was a hard man to ignore. The reference
to the tavern made me squirm, though, because I couldn’t help remembering how many
orgasms I’d had, and how fiercely intense they’d been. I hadn’t exactly kept them
to myself.
“Shouldn’t be long,” he said, still staring straight ahead, as if he’d taken a deep
interest in the milk shake machine, already churning up his order. “The other owners
are eager to sell, and the buyer is ready to make out a check.”
interest in the milk shake machine, already churning up his order. “The other owners
are eager to sell, and the buyer is ready to make out a check.”
“Good,” I replied, and took a sip of my diet cola. At the moment, I wished it would
turn into a double martini. I could have used the anesthetic effect.
turn into a double martini. I could have used the anesthetic effect.
He turned his stool ever so slightly in my direction, but there was still no eye contact.
Like everybody in the diner didn’t know we were talking. “I suppose you’ve talked
to Bob by now,” he said.
Like everybody in the diner didn’t know we were talking. “I suppose you’ve talked
to Bob by now,” he said.
Bob was in my dresser drawer, under four pairs of panties. “Of course,” I said lightly.
“Bob and I are honest with each other.”
“Bob and I are honest with each other.”
“Right. By now, he’s probably on his way here to punch me in the mouth.”
“Bob isn’t that sort of man.” Bob, of course, wasn’t
any
sort of man.
any
sort of man.
“I’d do it, if I were him.”
I smiled to myself, though I was shaken, and there was that peculiar tightening in
the pit of my stomach again. “He’s not the violent type,” I said.
the pit of my stomach again. “He’s not the violent type,” I said.
Flo set my plate of meat loaf down in front of me. Hunger had driven me to that diner,
but now I had no appetite at all. Because I knew Tristan and everybody else in the
place would make something of it if I paid my bill and left without taking a bite,
I picked up my fork.
but now I had no appetite at all. Because I knew Tristan and everybody else in the
place would make something of it if I paid my bill and left without taking a bite,
I picked up my fork.
“And I am?” Tristan asked tersely.
“You said it yourself,” I replied, with a lightness I didn’t feel. I put a piece of
meat loaf into my mouth, chewed and swallowed, before going on. “If you were in Bob’s
place, you’d punch him in the mouth.”
meat loaf into my mouth, chewed and swallowed, before going on. “If you were in Bob’s
place, you’d punch him in the mouth.”
“What does he do for a living?”
“I told you,” I answered smoothly. “He’s in electronics. Mostly, though, he just concentrates
on keeping me happy.”
on keeping me happy.”
“I’ll just bet he does.”
I wanted to laugh. I ate more meat loaf instead.
Tristan looked annoyed. His voice was an edgy whisper. “What kind of man doesn’t mind
when somebody else boinks his woman?”
when somebody else boinks his woman?”
“Bob gets a charge out of things like that,” I said. It wasn’t the complete truth.
I didn’t have to plug him into the wall like I did my cell phone. He ran on Duracells.
I didn’t have to plug him into the wall like I did my cell phone. He ran on Duracells.
“I can’t believe you’d settle for a man like that,” Tristan snarled. He glowered at
Flo when she brought his milk shake and silverware, and she retreated quickly, though
she was grinning a little. “Don’t you have any pride?”
Flo when she brought his milk shake and silverware, and she retreated quickly, though
she was grinning a little. “Don’t you have any pride?”
The meat loaf turned to cardboard, and stuck in my throat. I took a gulp of cola to
avert any necessity of the Heimlich maneuver. “Funny you should ask,” I replied quietly,
“after what just happened at the Bronco.”
avert any necessity of the Heimlich maneuver. “Funny you should ask,” I replied quietly,
“after what just happened at the Bronco.”
At last, Tristan turned far enough to face me. He looked straight into my eyes. “You
don’t love this Bob bozo,” he said bluntly. “If you did—”
don’t love this Bob bozo,” he said bluntly. “If you did—”
At my panicked look, he stopped. For all I knew, the people on both sides of us were
listening to every word we said.
listening to every word we said.
Flo came back with his meat loaf, but he pulled some bills out of his Levi pocket
and tossed them on the counter without even looking at her or the food. “Come on,”
he said. Then he grabbed my hand and dragged me out of the diner.
and tossed them on the counter without even looking at her or the food. “Come on,”
he said. Then he grabbed my hand and dragged me out of the diner.
I dug in my heels when we hit the sidewalk. “I wanted to finish my dinner,” I lied.
“I’ll fix you an omelet at my place,” he said. There was a big, shiny SUV parked at
the curb. He opened the passenger door and practically tossed me inside.
the curb. He opened the passenger door and practically tossed me inside.
“I am not going to your place,” I told him. But I didn’t try to escape, either. Not
that I could have. He was blocking my way. “What we did at the Bronco was a lapse
of judgment on my part. It’s over, and I’d just as soon forget it.”
that I could have. He was blocking my way. “What we did at the Bronco was a lapse
of judgment on my part. It’s over, and I’d just as soon forget it.”
“We need to talk.”
“Why? We had sex, it was good, and now it’s history. What is there to talk about?”
Was this me talking? Miss Traditional Love and Marriage, hoping for a husband, two
point two children and a dog?
Was this me talking? Miss Traditional Love and Marriage, hoping for a husband, two
point two children and a dog?
Tristan stepped back, slammed the car door, stormed around to the other side, and
got in. His right temple was throbbing.
got in. His right temple was throbbing.
“Maybe that’s all it means to you,” he bit out, jamming the rig into gear and screeching
away from the curb, “but to me, it was more than sex.
Way
more.”
away from the curb, “but to me, it was more than sex.
Way
more.”
My mouth dropped open. We were hovering on the brink of something I’d fantasized about,
with and without Bob—or were we? Maybe I was out there alone, like always, and Tristan
was leading me on. It didn’t take a software wizard to work out that he wanted more
sex.
with and without Bob—or were we? Maybe I was out there alone, like always, and Tristan
was leading me on. It didn’t take a software wizard to work out that he wanted more
sex.
“Like what?” I said.
He turned onto a side street, and brought the SUV to a stop in front of a two-story
house I used to dream about living in, as a kid. It was white, with green shutters
on the windows and a fenced, grassy yard. There were flower beds, too, all blooming.
house I used to dream about living in, as a kid. It was white, with green shutters
on the windows and a fenced, grassy yard. There were flower beds, too, all blooming.
And the sign swinging by the gate read
TRISTAN MCCULLOUGH, ATTORNEY AT LAW
.
TRISTAN MCCULLOUGH, ATTORNEY AT LAW
.
“Never mind like what,” he snapped, while I was still getting over the fact that he
was a lawyer. “Things didn’t end right between us, and I’m not letting this go till
we talk it out!”
was a lawyer. “Things didn’t end right between us, and I’m not letting this go till
we talk it out!”
I was a beat or two behind. Last I’d heard, Tristan was planning to major in Agriculture
and Animal Husbandry. Instead, he’d gone on to law school.
and Animal Husbandry. Instead, he’d gone on to law school.
Sheesh. A lot can happen in ten years.
I’d been into survival. He’d been making something of his life.
The contrast hurt, big-time. I sat there in the passenger seat like a lump, staring
at the sign.
at the sign.
Tristan shut off the engine, thrust out a sigh, and turned to face me squarely. His
blue eyes were narrow, and shooting little golden sparks.
blue eyes were narrow, and shooting little golden sparks.
“Impressed?” he asked bitterly.
I flinched. “What?”
“Isn’t that why you left Parable? Because you thought I’d turn out to be a saddle
bum, following the rodeo?”
bum, following the rodeo?”
“I thought,” I said evenly, “that you would work on the ranch. Family tradition, and
all that.”
all that.”
He sighed again, rubbed his chin with one hand. He’d showered and changed clothes
between the Bronco and the diner, but he hadn’t shaved. An attractive stubble was
beginning to gleam on the lower part of his face.
between the Bronco and the diner, but he hadn’t shaved. An attractive stubble was
beginning to gleam on the lower part of his face.
“I keep getting this wrong,” he muttered, sounding almost despondent. I wasn’t sure
if he was talking to me, or to himself.
if he was talking to me, or to himself.
I wanted to cry, for a variety of reasons, both simple and complicated, but I smiled
instead. “It’s okay, Tristan,” I heard myself say. My voice came out sounding gentle,
and a little raw. “We never did get along. Let’s just agree to disagree, as they say,
and get on with our lives.”
instead. “It’s okay, Tristan,” I heard myself say. My voice came out sounding gentle,
and a little raw. “We never did get along. Let’s just agree to disagree, as they say,
and get on with our lives.”
“As I recall, we got along just fine,” he said. I could tell he didn’t want to smile
back, but he did. “Until one of us said something, anyway.”
back, but he did. “Until one of us said something, anyway.”
I laughed, but my sinuses were clogged with tears I wouldn’t shed until I was alone
in Room 7, with a lake view. “Right.”
in Room 7, with a lake view. “Right.”
“How’s Josie?”
The question took me off guard. “Fine,” I said.
“She was a kick.”
“Still is,” I said lightly. “She’s into bikers these days.”
Tristan brushed my cheek with the backs of his fingers, and I had the usual cattle-prod
reaction, though I think I hid it pretty well. “Got to be better than Bob,” he said.
reaction, though I think I hid it pretty well. “Got to be better than Bob,” he said.
I felt a flash of guilt. “Listen, about Bob—”
Tristan raised an eyebrow, waiting.
I couldn’t do it. I just couldn’t bring myself to admit that Bob was a vibrator. It
was too pathetic. “Forget it,” I said.
was too pathetic. “Forget it,” I said.
“Like hell,” Tristan replied.
A stray thought broadsided me, out of nowhere. Tristan was a lawyer, and most likely
the only one in Parable, given the size of the place. Which probably meant he was
involved in the negotiations for the Bucking Bronco.
the only one in Parable, given the size of the place. Which probably meant he was
involved in the negotiations for the Bucking Bronco.
“Who’s buying the tavern?” I asked.
It was his turn to look blank, though he recovered quickly. “A bunch of investors
from California. Real estate types. They’re putting in a restaurant and a marina,
and building a golf course across the lake.”
from California. Real estate types. They’re putting in a restaurant and a marina,
and building a golf course across the lake.”
“Damn,” I muttered.
“What do you care?” he asked.
“You’re representing them, and my mother knew it.”
“Well, yeah,” Tristan said, in a puzzled, so-what tone of voice.
“She
knew
I would have done anything to avoid seeing you.”
knew
I would have done anything to avoid seeing you.”
“Gee, thanks.”
“Well, it’s true. You broke my heart!”
“That’s not the way I remember it,” Tristan said.
I unfastened my seat belt, got out of the SUV, and started for the Lakeside Motel.
By now, my phone would be charged. I intended to dial my mother’s number and hit redial
until she answered, if it took all night.
By now, my phone would be charged. I intended to dial my mother’s number and hit redial
until she answered, if it took all night.
I had a few things to say to her. We were about to have a Dr. Phil moment, Mom and
I.
I.
Tristan caught up in a few strides. “Where are you going?”
“None of your damn business.”
“I did
not
break your heart,” he insisted.
not
break your heart,” he insisted.
“Whatever,” I answered, because I knew it would piss him off, and if he got mad enough,
he’d leave me alone.
he’d leave me alone.
He caught hold of my arm and turned me around to face him. “Damn it, Gayle, I’m not
letting you walk away again. Not without an explanation.”
letting you walk away again. Not without an explanation.”
“An explanation for what?” I demanded, wrenching free.
Tristan looked up and down the street. Except for one guy mowing his lawn, we might
have been alone on an abandoned movie set. Pleasantville, USA. “You know damned well
what
!”
have been alone on an abandoned movie set. Pleasantville, USA. “You know damned well
what
!”
I did know, regrettably. I’d been holding the memories at bay ever since I got on
the first plane in Phoenix—even before that, in fact—but now the dam broke and it
all flooded back, in Technicolor and Dolby sound.
the first plane in Phoenix—even before that, in fact—but now the dam broke and it
all flooded back, in Technicolor and Dolby sound.
I’d gone to the post office, that bright summer morning a decade ago, to pick up the
mail. There was a letter from the University of Montana—I’d been accepted, on a partial
scholarship.
mail. There was a letter from the University of Montana—I’d been accepted, on a partial
scholarship.
Other books
A FUNNY THING HAPPENED ON THE WAY TO MY STRESS TEST by Gari, Brian
Spanked by the Billionaire by Ava Joy
The Responsible Witch (The Ward Witches) by Lauren McMinn
The Apocalypse and Satan's Glory Hole! (1) by Moon, Jonathan, Long, Timothy W.
Wedding Bell Blues by Jill Santopolo
Suddenly Sexy by Susanna Carr
Santa (Maybe): A Rom Com Novella by Bex, Alice
No Bones About It by Nancy Krulik
Dayworld by Philip José Farmer
A Stranger Like You by Elizabeth Brundage