“No,” I say, looking off into the distance as if contemplating all the trials and tribulations of my life. “I promised myself a long time ago that I would never give in to the carnal sins of the flesh ever again.”
He coughs roughly. “The carnal what?”
“I was scorned a long time ago,” I say, ignoring him. “By a cowboy. In Texas. During a long, hot, hazy summer.”
“Oh my god,” he says faintly.
“Yes, Tobias and I were—”
“Tobias.”
“Yes. Tobias. Can I finish, please?”
“Oh, go ahead,” he says. “I can’t wait to hear this.”
“Anyway. Tobias and I were in love. On his ranch. Outside Laredo. We were young and foolish and thought we could take on the world. Alas, it wasn’t meant to be.”
“I’m probably going to regret asking,” he says dryly, “but why wasn’t it meant to be?”
“His father,” I say solemnly. “He was an oil baron. And he wanted an heir beyond his son. Something which I couldn’t give Tobias. There was an ultimatum. Either Tobias would marry Trixie Marie Allen, or Tobias would be cut off from his inheritance.”
“Let me guess,” Otter—no, John—says. “Tobias chose Trixie.”
“Not right away,” I admit. “I thought he was going to resist his father. And he did, at first. But Trixie kept coming ’round, and who was I to measure up to her? She was smart and funny and knew how to work a ranch. I just wanted to sing. Because it was in my soul.”
“How terrible,” John says, and it looks like he’s barely keeping from bursting into laughter. “He chose Trixie?”
I nod. “Our love wasn’t strong enough. He was blinded by greed and a buxom blonde with big hair. Who was I to stand in the way of that?” I sigh as I take another drink of wine. “So I left the Lonely Hearts Ranch and traveled west until I found myself here. In this bar. It was fate, maybe. Because they were looking for a singer. And that’s all I ever wanted.”
“So you stayed,” John says.
“Yes. And my heart has been so lonely. Just like the name of the ranch.”
His puts his fist to his mouth as he starts coughing again.
“And so you see,” I say loudly, overriding him. “I can’t trust the touch of a man. Not even an astronaut.”
“Well, baby,” he says, leaning forward a little. “I’m something better than just a cowboy.”
“Are you?”
“Damn right. I’m a space cowboy.”
“I am going to have so much sex with you,” I breathe.
His eyes widen. “Yeah? That’s enough?”
“I didn’t want you to think I’m easy.”
“Oh, I don’t,” he says quickly. “Not at all. You’re the opposite of easy. You’re hard.”
“Damn right I am,” I say. “I’m so fucking hard.”
“Jesus Christ,” he mutters. “We need to get the fuck out of here.”
“If we don’t leave now,” I warn him, “I’m probably going to end up blowing you right here in front of all these people.”
He slams down the rest of the beer before reaching into his wallet and throwing a couple of bills on the bar top. “We’re leaving. Get up. Now.”