Kristen Blooming (10 page)

They were impossible to escape. So was Gwen’s laughter. It followed Kristen into her bedroom, where she slammed the door and fell across the mattress before bursting into tears.

* * * *

Brandon found himself whistling while he worked. It was a beautiful day, full of possibilities. It didn’t even matter to him that his head still hurt or that he probably had a new scar and tiny little bald spot. That was what hats were for. Besides, his hair would grow back, though he was betting Miss Kristen would feel horrified when she heard what she’d done to him.

Guilt was going to be his weapon, and Brandon planned on using it to talk the little miss into a date. He even had the plans made. They included flowers, a romantic dinner, a stroll by the lake, and then he was going to kiss her again. This time he wasn’t going to lose all sense of self. He would stay in control.

After all, he was a Cattleman. Cattlemen were all about control.

They were also all about getting the girl, but his plans got put on hold when the sheriff called to ask him to fill in for Byron, who had come down with a serious stomach ailment they called “drinking too much.” That didn’t mean he didn’t intend on stopping by Miss Kristen’s place and giving her the flowers, at least.

He already had them picked by the time the sheriff called, and he took enough razzing from the guys when he came in carrying the fragrant bouquet. He ignored all their jokes and Dylan’s glare as he got a glass of water to keep the pretty petals plump and attached to their stalks.

Then he sat down at the front desk and began twiddling his thumbs until his dinner break finally came and it was time to go woo his maiden. He went whistling past Dylan once again, knowing he was irritating the hell out of the other man. Dylan was just sore because he didn’t have his own maiden.

Actually, Brandon knew that wasn’t true. His friend was worried, worried that Kristen was going to tie Brandon around her little finger and turn him into a well-whipped man. That wouldn’t happen. Not now. Not ever. It was Kristen who was going to be wrapped around his finger.

Brandon’s optimism continued right up to the moment that Gwen answered her front door. She took one look at him and the flowers and started to laugh. She was such a bitch, but Brandon didn’t have time to get into it with her. She didn’t give him the time. Gwen stepped back and called out to Kristen that she had an admirer at the door.

Then Gwen waltzed out of the way to let Kristen shuffle past. She looked like hell. Her hair was a mess, her cheeks all red and raw looking, and her eyes puffy. Brandon knew instantly she’d been crying. He would have demanded to know why if she hadn’t spoken up first.

“Hello, deputy.” Kristen looked disinterestedly at the flowers clutched in Brandon’s hand and asked without a single hint of enthusiasm, “Are those flowers for me?”

“Yes.” He thrust them forward proudly. “I just wanted to stop in and see
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”

“If I’m as gullible today as I was yesterday?” Kristen said, cutting him off and confusing Brandon with the amount of bitterness in her tone.

“Pardon me?”

“I know about the competition,” Kristen stated simply, confusing Brandon all the more. She didn’t explain, though, simply told him how it was. “And I’m not interested in being your prize. Good day.”

With that, Kristen slammed the door, the heavy wood banging into his flowers and crushing them. Brandon stood there staring down at the crumpled mess as his fist tightened over the flower stalks. His mind was catching up, and he knew who to blame for this disaster. Unfortunately, Gwen was out of reach right then.

But Duncan wasn’t.

* * * *

Dylan sat with his feet up on the counter and his nose buried in the listing of college courses as he tried to decide what to pick from for the upcoming semester. The county offered to pay for one class a semester as long as a B average was maintained. Dylan normally got A’s.

Brandon was the B student. He was also grumpy as shit as he came storming back into the station house, assuring Dylan that his buddy had gotten shot down. Normally that would have drawn a smile and a joke from him, but he could tell that Brandon wasn’t in the mood.

“Where’s Duncan?”

“In the back.” Dylan jerked a thumb over his shoulder as he eyed Brandon. “You okay, man?”

“No.”

“Then I guess you don’t want to discuss what course to take this semester?” Dylan offered up hopefully, but Brandon was already storming around the counter.

“No.”

“That’s what I figured,” Dylan muttered to himself as he turned his attention back to the course listings.

He was leaning toward a women’s lit class. There would be women in it, no doubt. Women who would think he and Brandon were so civilized and evolved for taking an interest in such a subject. That would be a great lure to getting laid all semester. Unless the women turned out to be lesbians.

A commotion in the back drew Dylan from his thoughts as almost every deputy there jumped up and rushed toward the sound of a fight breaking out. Dylan didn’t move that quickly. He knew what was going on. Kristen was already twisting Brandon into a demented man.

That was what women did.

If he had any doubts about his conclusion, they were cast aside as he shoved open the locker room door to find Travis restraining Brandon and Dale holding Duncan back while the two men continued to holler and cuss.

“You screwed me!”

“What the hell, man? I didn’t do anything!” Duncan spat back as he wrestled against Dale’s hold.

“Bullshit!” Brandon stretched and reached but couldn’t break Byron’s hold. “I have bad news for you, you idiot. Kristen knows about the competition.”

“Well, I didn’t tell her.”

“Did you tell Gwen?”

That had Duncan stilling as he appeared to settle down. From the way he went silent, the answer was obvious, but it was too late to avoid the wrath of the sheriff, who shoved past Dylan and stormed into the locker room.

“What the fuck is going on in here?” Alex held up a hand before anybody could say anything. “No, wait. I don’t care. It just has to stop, and now. Got me?”

“Yes, Sheriff.” A chorus of agreements echoed through the room as Alex nodded.

“Good. Now break it up and get back to work.” Alex paused to stare at Brandon for a second. “Except for you. You better go get that head wound checked out. Dylan, cover the desk.”

Duncan followed Alex out the door, mostly because Dale kept shoving him. Travis trailed behind him as Brandon collapsed onto the bench seat, looking more dejected than Dylan had ever seen him. He couldn’t leave his best friend like that.

“Hey, man.” Dylan dropped down onto the bench across from Brandon. “You want to talk about it?”

“No.”

That didn’t mean he didn’t need to. Dylan knew Brandon well enough to push. “This about Kristen? I take it she turned you down.”

“She slammed the door in my face,” Brandon muttered.

“Well, that’s not that bad. Last time she brained you,” Dylan pointed out with a small smile that got him one in return as Brandon snorted and shook his head.

“I just…really like her, you know?”

Actually, Dylan didn’t. He’d never really liked a girl before. They were fun, momentary distractions, nothing more. He wished Brandon would agree with him, but he could tell that it was a lost cause. Despite the fact that it made no logical sense to Dylan how Brandon could be so attached to a girl he hadn’t even talked to for more than five minutes, the truth was right there in Brandon’s sad gaze.

“When I kissed her, it wasn’t like anything ever before.”

Dylan doubted that, too, but what mattered was that Brandon believed it. “Then you try again, right?”

“I don’t know.”

“You’re giving up?” Dylan asked, appalled by the very idea. As much as he didn’t want Kristen turning his best friend into a milquetoast, he didn’t want her defeating him either.

“What am I supposed to do? She thinks I’m total scum.”

“Then prove that you’re not.” Dylan shrugged, as if it were that simple.

“How?” Brandon demanded to know, putting Dylan on the spot.

“I don’t know.” Dylan frowned as he studied Brandon. “But I know sitting here moping isn’t going to win you any favors, so why don’t you go on over to the fire station and see if Jimmy can fix you up again? You’re bleeding.”

“Fine.” Brandon heaved a big sigh and dragged himself off the bench. “Just tell Duncan to stay out of my way. I’m still pissed at him for throwing Kristen into the pool.”

Dylan watched Brandon shuffle out of the locker room and shook his head before following. His buddy had it bad and clearly needed help. That was where Dylan came in, and he had an idea, one that took him only about five minutes of researching before he was on the phone with Kristen’s mother.

“Good afternoon, the Harold residence.” That polite greeting made Dylan smirk as he guessed exactly what kind of people he was dealing with.

“Good afternoon, is this Kristen Harold’s mother?”

“Why yes it is, and who is this?” There was a proper kind of demand in that response.

“I’m Deputy Dylan Singer of the Pittsview Sheriff’s Department.”

“Oh no. Did something happen to my baby? Is she all right?” Panic and a frantic sense of fear filled those rapid-fire questions and had Dylan quickly rushing to assure the woman everything was fine.

“Your daughter is fine, ma’am. In fact, she is quite lovely.”

“Oh thank God.” Mrs. Harold breathed a heavy sigh of relief before appearing to take notice of what else Dylan had said. “Did you say she was lovely?”

“Very lovely,” Dylan repeated. “And I was hoping to court her, but I know she’s a very proper kind of lady and thought I should seek your and Mr. Harold’s approval first.”

“Why yes. Yes, you should, young man, but that will require more than a phone call,” Mrs. Harold responded primly. “It would require you to come down here so that we might meet you in person.”

“I was expecting you would say such and would be happy to meet with you at your convenience.”

Monday, May 12
^th

Kristen woke up the next morning as miserable as she’d gone to bed. She brushed her teeth and showered as she silently lectured herself on allowing the deputy to have so much impact on her life. After all, he didn’t really mean anything to her.

It was definitely not love. Kristen had come to that realization after she’d slammed the door on the deputy’s face. Why, it was so obvious she didn’t know why she hadn’t thought of it before. What she did know was that she’d had near-death experience and been in a vulnerable condition.

Deputy Hammel had shamelessly taken advantage of that condition, which just went to prove what kind of man he was
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rotten. She didn’t have the time to waste on rotten. She had a pretty dress, a pretty hairband, and put on only enough makeup to enhance her natural look.

Kristen looked at herself in the mirror after she’d slipped on her sensible pumps and smiled, liking the image that stared back at her. All she needed was a light sweater to cover her arms through the day, and she looked just like a good girl. Kristen’s smile dipped at that thought, knowing that it made her a target now.

It didn’t matter. She wasn’t going to let anybody pressure her into anything. She looked like a good girl because she was one, and there was nothing wrong with that, Kristen told herself as she stuck her chin up, forcing herself to move with a confidence she did not really feel.

Fake it until you make it. She knew that was what Cybil would say. Cybil had a lot more to say, too, when Kristen finally made it to the office that morning to find her desk surrounded by a veritable forest of flowers. Flowers and co-workers, who were all giggling and whispering but fell silent as Kristen walked up.

“What is this?” She blinked, taking in the little cubicle she’d been assigned. The sight was overwhelming. “Who did all this?”

“The deputies,” Janice quickly informed her, biting back a smile. “Apparently, you’re popular. Real popular.”

“But…but, this is about that stupid challenge.” It clicked in an instant what was really going on, but she shouldn’t have spoke aloud. It was too late, though, to take the words back or avoid the questions they caused.

“What challenge?” Cybil eyed her with a curiously amused look, and Kristen knew she was trying not to laugh. Well, it wasn’t funny.

“The deputies’ challenge,” Kristen snapped, allowing the anger she was feeling to show in her tone for the first time ever.

That was how far those damn men had pushed her. Toying with her affections and reducing her down to a symbol to be conquered and discarded, they should all be ashamed of themselves.

“They challenged each other to what?” Janice blinked, watching as Kristen began gathering up as many of the arrangements as she could. “Smother you in flowers?”

Kristen paused to shoot Janice a frown for making a joke out of this. “Seduce me. Now somebody tell me where the dumpster is.”