Apocalypse Cowboy: Futuristic Romance with Zombies (4 page)

That evening, Hannah fumed in her room, despite the sounds of revelry below. Yes, she hid or, as Fred accused, sulked. What did they expect?

Brody hadn’t left—yet.

They could fawn over him all they wanted. Let themselves get taken in by his false promises. She knew it was just a matter of time before he jumped on his motorcycle and took off again. If he’d found the town small and stifling before, then what would he think when he realized only Hannah and her family had survived?

At that reminder, she paused in her internal ranting. Did Brody know about his family? He must. She couldn’t see him not going to his home first. He’d not said anything to her though, not that she’d given him much of a chance.

He’d definitely expressed surprise at finding her. Hell, she couldn’t believe he’d survived. The plague had spared so few. While no scientist or doctor, Hannah knew it had to be something in their genetic makeup that allowed her small family to survive. She wondered which of their parents had given them the lifesaving gene, one that most of the world lacked.

All those protests and fears over bioweapons and nukes ending the world.
Ha
. Humanity had met its doom in the form of a sneeze—or was it a cough? Didn’t matter, the result ended up the same.

The guy on the corner of Main and Queen—who’d returned from war with a few screws loose—was the only one who’d seen it coming with his sign raised high saying, “The end is nigh!” He’d been preaching that for fifteen years, so maybe that was why nobody listened. Of course, even had someone believed, it wouldn’t have made a difference.

Sometimes she wondered why she’d been spared. It wasn’t as if she truly had something to offer the world. A waitress in her past life, a survivor in the new. Her current life wasn’t a bad one, but it lacked…sparkle. It needed that something that made a person want to get up in the morning and say today would be a beautiful day.

Brody could keep me company and be that something I need.
An insidious thought that had no merit. Given Brody’s inability to stay when things were going good, why on Earth would he stay now that things had gone to hell?

It pissed her off that a part of her wanted to believe his words on the porch that he would never leave again. She hated that she longed to feel his strong arms around her, hugging her tight, telling her things would be okay. Touching her… Oh how she missed the secure feeling that came with knowing someone loved her.

But it had taken so long for her to get over his leaving the first time. If he did it again, she didn’t think she’d have the strength this time to survive. Her heart had been battered enough.

Finally the house quieted, and she lay on her bed listening and, truthfully, waiting to hear the sound of his bike as he left her—again.

She fell asleep to uninterrupted silence. And couldn’t help but dream of that day. The one she never could forget.

“If you leave, don’t ever come back. I won’t wait for you.” Hannah tilted her chin obstinately, even as she hugged her breasts together to form a shadowy cleavage. Any tactics from threats to seduction were fair game in her battle to make him stay.

For a moment, his eyes glittered with interest, but he shook his head, casting off her alluring attempt. “I can’t. If I don’t leave now, I never will. Nobody ever does. It’s like this place is cursed. I have no intention of ending up like my dad and everyone else in this town.”

Just what is wrong with being like everyone else?
For the umpteenth time, she wanted to question why that bothered him so; after all, his father ran a successful business as the town's mortician. If dealing in death wasn’t Brody’s niche, then there were other things he could do.

“Your dad happens to be happy. Most folk around here are. What’s wrong with that?”

“Nothing. Everything.” He flung his hands out. “I just feel like if I don’t go now, life is going to pass me by. There’s so much I want to see. So much I want to do.”

“So you’re going to leave me?” Her lower lip trembled, and tears flooded her vision. Sneaky, but damn it, she had to make him see reason.
He can’t go.

A callused thumb wiped the tear that ran down her cheek. For a moment, he wavered at her evident distress, his face clouding with confusion. Determination made it harden again, and he shook his head.

“I love you, Hannah, and I want to be with you, but I can’t stay here. I know I can make something of myself in the city. Get a good job. Or learn a skill. Hell, maybe I’ll save some money and take some classes. There’s a whole wide world waiting out there. I need to do this. But I don’t want to do it alone. Come with me.” He held out his hand, inviting her to ditch everything she cared about, everything she knew, to start from scratch with only the clothes on her back. And, as much as it broke her heart to lose him, she couldn’t go. No, make that she
wouldn’t
go.

She took a step back before he touched her and made her waver. “No. Unlike you, I’m not afraid to stay and make a place for myself. If you loved me, you’d stay too.” The moment she said it, she wanted to take it back.

“Don’t be this way. You know how much I love you.”

“Yes, I do know. Not enough.” Her voice cracked, and her vision wavered.

He recoiled. “I
do
love you, and when I get settled with a decent job and a place to live, I’ll come back for you. You’ll see. I won’t forget you, kitten.”

Hysterical laughter threatened, even as she swallowed salty tears. “If you leave now, I won’t ever forgive you.” She turned her back on him, making her final stand.

But her ultimatum didn’t stop him. The rumble of his motorcycle starting and the sound of it receding as he made good on his words masked her harsh sobs.

I’ll never forgive you for this, Brody. Even if you were the last man on earth, I’d never take you back.
Turned out she had a gift for prophesy.

Bright sunlight woke her, slanting across her face, warming her with its brilliance. It signaled the start of a new day and the chores that came with it. Remembering the events of the previous day, she sat up and listened, but other than the familiar creaks of an old house, she heard nothing, the chirping of the birds the only apparent sound.

Did he leave?

The window of her bedroom faced the front yard. Holding her breath, Hannah peered through her lace curtains into the front yard, the
empty
yard. Surely it wasn’t disappointment she felt when she noticed his bike gone? After all, he’d done exactly what she’d expected.
What I told him to do.

He’d left.

Telling herself she needed to dust—
no way am I shedding another tear over him—
she dressed in ragged jeans and an even worse shirt, clothes that matched her wretched mood. A quick brush had her snaring jagged curls into a sloppy ponytail. Exiting her room, she jogged downstairs to the surprising smell of breakfast.

Beth is up already and cooking?

A surge of warmth filled Hannah. Her teen sister must have realized how upset Brody’s visit had made her and done something nice—for a change. Then again, Beth’s laziness was Hannah’s fault. She’d spoiled her little sister, especially after her parents died, and since the outbreak, she’d done her best to shelter her.

Hannah couldn’t help but stumble when she walked into the kitchen and found herself presented with a black T-shirt stretched over a broad back. As for the jolt of pleasure that shot through her? It had nothing to do with the fact that he’d stayed. It was the yummy smell of brewing coffee and scrambled eggs he spooned on to a plate that tickled her happy side.

“What are still doing here?” she asked crossly. “You’re supposed to be gone.”

Gone before she did something foolish.

Not the most heart-warming response to his presence, but he didn’t let it deter him.

“And a good morning to you too, kitten.” Despite his need to see her, drink her in, Brody didn’t turn to face Hannah.

After the blouse incident, he couldn’t stem his disappointment when she fled to her room and hid there. At least her absence gave him a chance to pump Beth and Fred for information. Much of it proved hard to listen to and increased the guilt he already felt.

Only weeks after he’d left, Hannah’s parents had died in a car crash, leaving her alone to fend for her younger sister and invalid uncle. His gut tightened when he heard of how Hannah had stopped attending their local college to work full time so she could support her family. She’d been so close to finishing her degree in business when he left.

The only news he rejoiced in, even as he knew he should feel guilty, was hearing she hadn’t dated anyone since he’d left. After he’d gone away, just the thought of another man touching her had always been enough to place him in a foul mood. He wondered if, like him, the thought of being with someone else had left her cold.

Despite the overtures he’d received, he couldn’t feign interest in any other women. None of them had been Hannah.

The previous night, after Beth went to bed, Fred had told him of how Hannah had taken care of them all after the virus. The recounting of her first encounter with a zombie, an attack she’d barely survived, had him closing his eyes and clenching his fingers into a tight fist.

My fault she suffered.
He should have been here protecting her. At least she’d owned the strength to escape, mostly unscathed but for the mental scars. Scars he’d help heal.

From now on, she’d have nothing to fear. He would protect her and her family. Nobody would touch a hair on her head.
I’ll kill them first.

He heard a chair being dragged behind him. The object of his thoughts sat down heavily, the glaring heat from her stare boring into his back. Brody grinned but still didn’t turn around, staying instead at the Coleman stove, cooking the omelets he’d whipped up using eggs he’d fetched from the coop. He’d been only moderately surprised at how well set up Hannah and her family were. Trust her to find a way to ensure she survived and stayed well fed.

Knowing her penchant for good food, he’d gotten up early to surprise her with breakfast. In the past, her good moods were often linked to eating. What a shame that his previous method of kissing her until she smiled wasn’t yet feasible. He could try, but he’d probably end up with a bruised body part for his effort.

It didn’t mean he didn’t imagine it. He’d spent a restless night thinking of her—how they’d once touched and kissed. Even just the simple recollection this morning had him hardening.
Dammit.
He needed to temper his thoughts. Somehow he didn’t think he’d impress Hannah with his lack of control.

Pity I can’t just slap my prick on a plate and offer it to her to eat. It would solve two problems at once.

But given he’d armed her with a fork, he decided against trying it. Who knew what she’d do in her current frame of mind?

Skewer him or lick him? An inquiring dirty mind wanted to know.

Hannah watched as Brody’s broad back shook as if in silent jest. How she resented the easy way Brody had slipped into her life in less than a day. He moved around the kitchen like he owned it, cooking on the Coleman stove with the window above it and the side door open for venting, totally at home in the kitchen. A surprise given he could barely toast bread when he left.

The food he plated smelled heavenly too, the jerk. Leave it up to him to prepare something delicious.

She had yet to master the art of camp-stove cooking without burning their meal. Thank god for the propane center in town they could use for refills. She just hoped she never saw it run out, or they’d have to resort to a true firepit. The only thing she knew how to cook on those was marshmallows.

At least running water had never been as issue as they’d always had a well with a gravity fed pump, but she did worry about the septic system one day overflowing out in the yard, a problem she hoped lay many years in the future. That and running out of toilet paper.

Watching him cook—a skill he’d obviously acquired since his departure, on his own or with help?—she wondered what other things he’d learned while he’d been away. If Brody was actually serious about staying, which she highly doubted, there were many things she could use help with, much as it might gall her to ask.

Even if she had no interest in hooking up, it wouldn’t hurt to milk him for all the practical knowledge and muscle he had to offer in the meantime.
And he definitely has a lot of muscle to offer
, she thought, licking her lips in hunger, and not of the consumable kind.

“Oh my god, Hannah. Did you finally learn to cook?” Beth came in looking fresh and cute in short shorts with a blouse tied at her midriff that made Hannah gnash her teeth. Since when did Bethie come to breakfast dressed like a tart?

“I hope you’re hungry,” said Brody as he turned to face them with two steaming plates. With a wink for Hannah and a smile for Beth, he laid the plates on the table and turned to grab a third.

Hannah hopped up to grab the plate from Brody to take to Fred, who found mornings hard, but Beth beat her to it. With a simpering smile, she took it from Brody and sashayed away, her pert butt swinging in shorts that Hannah could have sworn were longer last week.

To his credit, Brody didn’t watch Beth’s little show; instead, he dumped the rest of the food he’d made into a pile on his plate and sat down at the table, a table which suddenly seemed too small.

Hannah tried to ignore him, shoveling the delicious eggs into her mouth with enthusiasm, but she couldn’t help the awareness that crept through her body. Heat flushed through her, the sensual kind that only he ever managed to cause. Despite the gaze he kept resting on her, she kept her focus on the food, refusing to meet his eyes.

Cowardly, but she wasn’t yet ready to face him—or the emotions she’d thought long buried.

Beth flounced back into the kitchen and flopped into her chair. In between forkfuls, she chattered inanely, and Brody, seeming preoccupied, answered her. Hannah did her best not to react to his rumbling tone, but tingles ran up and down her flesh, sensitizing her.

Annoyed that her body kept reacting to his simple presence, she rudely interrupted their pointless conversation. “If you’re going to be sticking around, then you’re going to need to pitch in.” She finally looked him in the face when she said this and saw his blue eyes twinkle with mirth.
What does he find so funny?

“I fully intend to do my part. I told you I’m here for the long haul. Anything in particular you’d like me to start with?”

“Chainsaw.” Hannah blurted the word out and then blushed at his puzzled look. “We need wood, and I can’t start the damned thing. We’ll need several cords for the winter.”

“What have you been doing up until now?” he asked.

“We had enough to make do the last winter since we’d stocked up before everything happened. When we exhausted it in the spring, I started raiding other homes for firewood and furniture,” she admitted. “But I had to stop because our gas supply was getting low.”

“Then cords of wood you shall have. I promise to keep you
warm
while I’m here.” He grinned, the stretch of his lips going well with the mischievous glint in his eyes.

Hannah felt her blush deepen at his words, the sexual innuendo clear and, to her annoyance, titillating.
I see I’ll be burning through some batteries tonight.

Not feeling in control, Hannah excused herself and went to check on her uncle, but she couldn’t stop thinking very naughty thoughts of Brody. How could she lust after the man when she still hated him for what he’d done?

Or did she hate him? Was she letting stubborn pride make her foolish?

Probably. But recognizing it didn’t mean she could stop it.

She also couldn’t hide forever, not when a determined Brody came looking for her.

“Why don’t you show me the chainsaw that’s been giving you problems?”

Hannah led him to the bane of her existence, a brand-new, gas-powered Ryobi she’d taken from the local hardware store. It was actually the third one; the first two hadn’t survived her frustration.

Cowboy hat on his head, which should have looked dumb but, instead, managed to give him a rakish appearance, Brody turned the stupid thing over in his hands. He twisted off the gas compartment and sniffed.

“I thought we were past the age we sniffed things to get high,” she couldn’t help but tease.

He laughed. “Man, I’d forgotten we used to do that. And we thought we were such cool shits. But in this case, I was checking something. It’s a two stroke.”

He said it like it meant something. Hannah pursed her lips. “Which means?”

“You forgot to mix the gas with oil.”

With deft fingers, he dumped the contents of the gas reservoir into an empty oil container and then mixed up what he called a ratio fuel mixture. He spoke words like “priming the carb” and “setting the choke,” jargon Hannah couldn’t quite follow. He, however, seemed to know exactly what to do because, when he’d done his prepping and gave the cord a few pulls, the chainsaw growled to life and the chain whirred.

It irked that he so easily managed to start it, but at least he seemed intent on helping out. As he went to work, she tackled her own chores, but she didn’t lose herself in them as she usually did. Much like the planets that circled the sun, she kept revolving back into his vicinity, unable to stop herself.

He couldn’t help but notice, flashing a smile at her each time, and she’d pretend to not see it, ducking her head or bending over to yank at a weed whose only crime was giving her hands an innocuous task.

By late morning she finally admitted something to herself—she still wanted him. Who in their right mind wouldn’t?

The day turned warm as the sun crept higher in the sky. Brody worked hard during that time. Tackling the copse of trees she’d point out, taking the towering trunks down one by one, then slicing them into more manageable logs. He lost his shirt at one point, leaving him clad only in low-hanging jeans, rugged boots, and that ridiculous hat, which didn’t look so ridiculous the more she got used to it.

It could have had a lot to do with how his tanned and corded muscles rippled as he handled the chainsaw. His hard abs glistened enticingly, slick with sweat. The sight was enough to make Hannah practically go cross-eyed with desire. The way his pants hung low on his lean hips drew attention to the vee of hair that arrowed down his chest and disappeared beneath the waistband. She knew all too well what hid down there. A shudder of remembered delight rippled through her.

Too many times, Hannah licked her lips as temptation hovered for the taking. She chugged way too many glasses of water trying to ease the slow fire burning inside, a fire that only burned brighter the more time she spent around him.

As if he could read her mind, he kept glancing over at her, a lazy smile curling his lips, the kind that promised wicked fun. It didn’t help that she could so easily recall the pleasure of that fun.

Hungry, she had to settle for food. Given he’d worked hard, and she needed a distraction, she made him a plate of edibles and carried it out to him. Partially burned biscuits, canned tuna tossed with celery, onion, and green pepper, and homemade iced tea, sans ice. Not exactly a feast, especially since the tuna salad could have really used mayonnaise, but a lack of creamy flavor always won over food poisoning. They had a small fridge that ran on propane, but their biggest problem with things like mayo was they’d all gone past their ‘best buy’ dates.

As she neared with her offering, Brody stopped the rumbling saw. He grabbed his discarded shirt to mop his brow and chest.

Oh to lick the salt from his skin.

Hannah stumbled with the tray of food and would have fallen had he not lunged and steadied her. The touch of his hands on her skin saw her sucking in a breath. Heat pooled between her legs, and she couldn’t help but sag as her knees went weak.

With a knowing grin, and hands that weren’t in a hurry to let her go, he guided her to a stump.

She hated how he still seemed to read her like an open book.
How am I
supposed to hide the effect he has on me?
And a better question, did she want to?

It seemed childish to deny her attraction to him. He was a man, she, a woman. It was natural they’d find themselves desiring the other. It meant nothing.

It meant everything.

In silence, they ate, her trying to muddle through her confused emotions while he stared at her with a brooding gaze. When Beth bounced over in her still-too-short denims, Hannah both resented and welcomed her sister’s cheerful intrusion.

“It is so nice to have a man around here,” gushed Beth, batting her lashes at him. “We appreciate your hard work ever so much.”

Hannah wanted to roll her eyes at Beth’s poorly disguised attempt at flattery.

“Just doing my part,” said Brody. “Listen, do you mind if I go to town this afternoon? I’m going to need more oil to keep this baby running, and I thought I’d see what other supplies I could grab.”

“Want me to go with you? I know which places I haven’t cleaned out yet.” The words came out of Hannah’s mouth and surprised her.

“If you want. I’d welcome the company. But I warn you, I thought I’d swing by my parents’ place while I was there too. Check on the old place.”

Hannah froze mid bite. “You haven’t been there yet?”

“No. I came here first.”

Oh god. He didn’t know.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Hannah blurted out.    

Brody frowned at her as did Beth. “Why not?”

Hannah couldn’t tell him, not in front of Beth. She also couldn’t hide the truth from him. “Give me a second to get rid of this and we’ll go together.”

Jumping to her feet, she grabbed the tray and walked quickly back to the house in an attempt to forestall questions. She should have known it wouldn’t work.

Her hands trembled as she dumped the dirty dishes in the sink.

Poor Brody.
But, unlike her, at least he wouldn’t face it alone.