His phone buzzed. His pulse jumped stupidly.
Tie-Dye:Yay, they called back! Nooooo, if u tell him 2 call my cell, I won’t hear frm him for another day ugh. I’ll dash back home 2 take it. Be there in a min :-) Don’t let him hang up!!!!!
A thousand exclamation points, number abbreviations for words, typos to shorten things, and an old-school emoticon, when Tyler couldn’t help but to spell out each word and punctuate it.
A chuckle rumbled up his throat. His boys called emoticons dinosaurs that only old people used…
Wait. His eyes roved over the message again. I’ll dash back home 2 take it. Home. She hadn’t referred to it as “your home,” or “the house,” but just, home. It had to be nothing. She was typing fast. Another message blipped up.
Tie-Dye:Oh and u have got to c what I discovered… *squeals! Can’t wait 2 tell u!!!
He took the phone off mute. “She’s on her way, Chet.” Tossed the phone down again.
His pulse kicked up a notch as he thought more about her text, dissected it and deliberated on it. Home. What would it be like if she actually lived here? What would it be like to wake up every day like he’d woken up today? What would it be like to go to the boys’ soccer games with her? Argue about finances with her? Perhaps, someday…have more kids with her? Wash and dry dinner dishes with her as they rubbed shoulders at the sink? Her barefoot? He grinned at her joke.
Naw, she was too free-spirited to tether down to a farm. They weren’t even an item, and last night’s call about Seth had been a stark reminder that he could easily become distracted from what mattered most: his kids. His rules had been in place for a reason. They’d kept him on course, and he was breaking them left and right like twigs beneath his boots.
He scoured his face. “Don’t be a dumbass,” he muttered to himself, gritting his teeth and pushing to stand—
“Pardon me?” Chet said through the receiver. Shit! He’d forgotten to mute it again.
He snatched up the phone. “Wasn’t talking to you. Heather’s almost here.”
“I can call back another time—”
“Naw, man, she’s been playing cat and mouse with y’all for days. Stay on the phone. You’re obligated to handle this in a timely manner.”
“What are you, a lawyer?”
“Yup.”
He muted it this time and paced a couple steps, swung up his water jug he’d packed on his horse this morning while assessing the eastern fence line and logging all the points of damage—on a spreadsheet. Flipped up the spout on the stainless steel jug, taking a swallow. He didn’t typically see Heather until they were both in for the evening, at which point, it was a crap shoot what she’d drag him off to do. Mudding. Movie. Tonight, she’d hinted at the traveling carny in the Walmart parking lot in town.
It was after five o’clock now. Chet had been holding for over eight minutes and was probably getting antsy to hang up, when he heard the crunching of wheels on gravel and the sound of an engine. Heart’s not-so-shiny-anymore silver Sierra roared up parallel to the front porch, music blaring, gravel dust pluming around the tires.
She jumped out in her shitkickers, snug, worn denim, and arms that were growing more sun-tanned by the day, a soft blue tank hugging her breasts, the straps of a bright orange bra beneath the tank’s spaghetti straps, and, he smiled warmly, his plaid shirt tied around her waist. She’d kept it. Call it primal, or territorial, or whatever. As long as she wore that shirt, it was as if she wore his colors.
She slipped her Paris Hilton glasses onto her head where once more her bundle of mahogany waves were pinned precariously with pencils stabbed thorough the knot, and two silver earrings that looked mismatched glinted with sunlight as she jogged up the steps, tits bouncing, forcing him to take a deep breath. What was it her fiancé had wanted from her that she couldn’t give him? Because from his perspective, Heather was the whole, mesmerizing package.
The front door thudded shut. He crossed his office floor, what had once been a dining room barricaded by drawing-room style double doors, and pulled it open. She turned over her shoulder, seeing him, and a broad smile captured her face, sun-pink nose and cheeks. He unmuted the phone and held it to her.
“Thanks!” She pushed up on her toes, pecked his cheek, and toed her boots off so they spilled into the shoe tray, tipping upon each other.
He shook his head, eyeing her as she walked past him into his office, and nudged the boots into neat alignment. Her vanilla-almond breezed to his nose, mixed with her earthy outdoors scent. He inhaled, then followed in her wake as if following the smell of baked goods he wanted to taste.
“This is Heart,” she said cheerfully. “Oh hi, Chet. What’s up?”
What’s up? Like the guy was her pal. The irritation that she flirted nipped again, but he quelled it this time. She talked to everyone like this. He walked up behind her and returned the kiss, dipping his lips to her open neck as she pinched the phone between her ear and shoulder, dusted a kiss upon her pulse, felt her shiver and savored the smile that twisted her lips, looking thoughtfully at him.
He flicked her earring. She glanced back at him, her brows furrowed.
They don’t match, he mouthed.
“They’re mosasaur halves,” she beamed, using exaggerated Vanna White hands to showcase them. One earring was the front half of an aquatic dinosaur skeleton, the other was the back half and tail.
Of course they were. But this was Heather, so something that didn’t match made perfect sense. And he’d been honest at the movie. He liked her weird. It had confused him at first. It was all he could think about now.
“Are you kidding?” she gasped into the phone, her enthusiasm vanishing. Tyler’s gaze sharpened on her like a shark sensing blood, watched her pacing in front of the window as the floor planks creaked beneath her feet. Unicorn socks.