Meadowlarks (6 page)

             
I inhale deeply and smile at the screen of my iPhone.

             
“I don't even have to ask, do I?” Jeremiah says, shaking his head.

             
“Nope!” I pat his shoulder, hop off the tailgate of my truck and put the phone back in my pocket.

             
“All right, buddy. See ya later,” he says, jumping off in the same motion, but landing on a large stone and wincing.               “Shit! Ouch!” He chuckles and hold his foot in his hands.

             
“Crybaby.” I laugh and climb up into the truck and back out of the driveway.

Jer waves, picks up his rake and continues to move the stones from the grass again.

              At the stop sign at the end of the road, I pull my phone out of my jeans again and open the messages to send my reply.

Starving. Where to, miss?

             
I hit the button, and it makes a whoosh noise as it sends my text to her phone. Almost instantly I get a reply.
Lakes?

             
Lakes is a big diner in town, well known for its extended menu, catering to all kinds of palates. Their pizza is actually the best in town; I remember my dad took us boys there almost every Saturday night when we were kids. Large Hawaiian with extra green olives—my favourite.
             

             
Lakes. See ya in 15?
I hit send again and hear the whoosh. I realize there is a car impatiently waiting behind me when I am startled by its horn, honking at me to move. I wave my hand out my window, flip the turn signal to go right, and check for traffic.

             
I pull into Lakes’ large parking lot and see that Addison is already here. She's leaning against the fender of her car, looking too sexy to be legal. She's wearing a pair of frayed jean shorts and a well-fitted blue t-shirt. I find a parking spot near the back, away from everyone else.

             
“You look beautiful.” I take her hand and kiss it lightly.

             
“Not too bad yourself.” She gives me a wink and curls her fingers into my hand.

             
“Okay, where did you get this car? I almost died when you got into it earlier.”

             
She blushes and turns to look at the car. “It was my dad's, his first car.”

             
“Well, you look sexy as hell in it.” I grin, and she smiles innocently at me.

             
Lakes has a typical diner theme—white walls, retro-styled seating areas rimmed with metal edges. A large menu over the opening to the kitchen, where you can see some of the staff hastily cooking amidst the steam of the grills and fryers. It's usually busy at lunch here, so I'm surprised when we find a table so quickly.

             
“Hey, Blaine!” A happy voice greets me; it's Sadee, the girlfriend of one of my nephews. Nick's kid, Bobby.

             
“Hey there, Sadee. What's good today?” I motion to the menu board. She smiles at Addison and looks at me with an approving smile. “Well, the special today is a bacon cheeseburger with any side. For $5.95.”

             
I salivate at the thought and look at Addison. She's reading the large menu and then turns her eyes to Sadee. “I'll have that! With fries and a Coke, if you have it.”

             
“And I'll have the exact same.”

             
“Alright, guys, I'll be back with your drinks in a jiffy!” Sadee says, bouncing off, writing down our order in a little spiral notebook.

             
“What?” Addison asks, when she notices that I'm gazing at her. I clear my throat and adjust myself in the vinyl seat. Every time I look at her I see some new beautiful detail, like the small and very faint splash of freckles across her nose.

             
“Oh, nothing.” I smile.

             
“Tell me about your family.” She asks slowly, batting her long lashes over her big blue eyes. I look out the window and try to piece together how to explain the Blackstocks’ to her.

             
“Well,” I start. “My mom and dad met in grade school—grew up here, too. Got married young, then she got pregnant with my brother Nick.”

             
She reaches to hold my fingers with hers, and I squeeze them gently. The touch slows and races my heart all at the same time.

             
“Owen came long two years later. They lived at the ranch; it was my great grandfather's.”

             
Sadee is back with our drinks.

“Thanks, Sadee.” I look up at her.

              “No prob, guys. The food should be out soon!” Sadee says before leaving again.

             
“Sadee is my nephew's girlfriend,” I tell Addison. “Bobby, he's Nick's oldest son.”

             
              “How much older are your brothers?”

             
“Nick is forty-five, and Owen will be 43 this fall.”

             
I wonder if she's doing the calculations in her head.

             
“Yeah, my parents didn't plan on having me.”

She's still holding my fingers, not breaking eye contact once.

              Sadee is back and places our food in front of us. “Can I get you anything else?” she asks happily.

             
“I'm good if you are.” Addison smiles at me and then up to Sadee.

             
“Yep, we're good. Thank you.”

             
Sadee gives a thumbs up and goes to help clear a table with another young girl.

             
We talk more about her applying for a nursing job, her brother possibly working at my ranch, and even a little about Jeremiah. I tell her the story about Ivy breaking his toes, and she laughs.

             
“That's why he was waving that big stick like a mad man yesterday?”

             
I snort. “Yep, she can be a handful.”

             
I tell her how Jer and I have been best friends our entire lives. He went through a dark time after his parents died, and having him work with me at the ranch really seemed to keep him busy and in better spirits.

             
“He's lucky to have a friend like you,” she says, and I disagree…it's the other way around. I'm lucky to have him.

             
Dipping the last of my fries into a glob of ketchup on my plate, I ask her, “How do you feel about having your brother over tonight? We could have a bonfire, maybe roast some marshmallows?” I raise one of my eyebrows and grin.

             
“Yeah! That would be fun.” She bites a fry in half and grins back.

             
Sadee is back to clear our plates, and Addison pulls her phone out her purse.               “I'll text Alex, and make sure he's let Luca out.”               Her phone makes a beeping noise, and she picks it up to read the message. Eyebrows raised, she starts typing in what I assume is a response.               “He's in. As long as there's beer.” She rolls her beautiful blue eyes. When she sets her phone back on the table, I reach for her hand and kiss her knuckles, the stubble above my lip whispering across her skin.

              I stoke the fire with a long thick branch. It pops and crackles, sending little orange embers up into the sky, disappearing into the night. Music is playing from stereo and out the open windows in the truck.

             
Addison went home after lunch this afternoon; she said she had things to do and would be back tonight with her brother. I miss her. Two days, and I miss her. The sweet scent of her hair, the soft touch of her hands in mine, and her big eyes staring into my soul.

             
I sound like a Hallmark card for crying out loud. I'm entranced, watching the flames flick around, like hot, sharp tongues lashing at the night sky.

             
The sound of a truck engine drowns out the music briefly, and I look over to see Jeremiah pulling up. He parks in front of the garage.

             
“Hey! Buddy!” Jumping out, he runs around the back of his truck to open the passenger door. Two long and tan legs emerge, followed by a loud, “Buh-lay-aineeeee!”

             
The overdrawn use of my name makes me cringe, and I see whose mouth it's coming from.

             
Gwen Wolf.

             
Jer, are you fucking serious? Gwen Wolf? Buddy...

             
Trying not to make my annoyance apparent, I greet them. “Hey, guys. How's it going?”

             
She's walking up to me, stumbling slightly. Jer catches her, and she laughs obnoxiously.

             
Oh, shit—is she drunk?

             
I shoot Jeremiah a look to ask him what the hell he was thinking bringing her here like this.

He shrugs and mouths back, “Come on!”

              “Blaine Blackstock.” Gwen looks up at me with a big and sloppy smile on her face.               “Youuuuu...are an awful host! Why haven't you offered me a drink?”

             
One: you just got here.

Two: like you need any
more to drink, sweetheart.

             
I frown.               “What would you like, Gwen?”

             
She sits in a green lawn chair, crosses one leg over the other and calls Rex over to her side. He happily wags his tail and walks over to her, the limping almost gone.

             
“Gwen?” I repeat sharply.

             
“Oh, yes. Just a beer please,” She manages to speak without slurring, and I shoot Jer daggers with my eyes.

             
He follows me inside and as soon as the door closes behind him, I whip around.               “Gwen? You really brought her here? And like that?” I point my finger out the door.

             
“Buddy, really? You like Gwen. What's the big deal?” he asks, and I realize he really doesn't see why I'm irritated.

             
“Jer, she's drunk. And it's only seven o'clock! Addison and her brother are coming.” I look over at the large clock on the wall. “And you better hope she doesn't make a fool out of herself.” I scold him like he's a child, and I instantly feel bad about it.

             
“Oh, well! Excuse me!” He puts his hands up defensively and then reaches to open the fridge door.

             
“I'm sorry, Jer. I really like this girl. I can't explain why. I'm just...” I trail off, not sure what exactly I am trying to say.

             
“I get it, Blaine. I do.” He smiles and pulls out a six-pack of beer cans. “She is sa-mokin' hot!”

             
I can't help but grin because of his expression—and also, I couldn't agree with him more.               “Man, you have no idea.” I say, as I completely envision her naked body on top of mine, that wild red hair falling on my face and chest while she devours me.

             
He asks me what her story is, why she's in Wyoming and where she's staying. I tell him as much as she's told me, and that she plans on applying at the hospital for a nursing job. The thought makes me smile, and I wish she was here already.

             
Where is she anyway?

             
“We better get out to your...date.” I smirk, grabbing some bottles of water. He grabs the beer cans, and we head back outside.

             
Gwen's still sitting in the lawn chair; Rex is nowhere to be seen, and Toby Keith is playing loudly over the speakers. Gwen's singing to herself. She looks up happily at Jer and me, and I start to feel bad about reacting so poorly when she showed up.

             
“Here you go, missy!” he says and hands her a can of beer.

             
“Thank you, kind sir!” She nods her head at him and giggles as she cracks the seam of the can, beer spills out. She sucks the foam up quickly.

             
I pull my phone out of my pocket—no messages. Where is she? I send her a text.
Hey you, just wondering when I'm going to get to see your beautiful face again :)

             
I hit send. Two, three, four, 10 minutes go by and still no response. Should I start to worry? I don't know how to go about these things. I don't know her brother's number, so it's not like I can text him. Wouldn't that be weird anyway?

             
An hour goes by since my text, and between Gwen, Jer and I we've finished the six-pack and are two cans into the next set.

             
Gwen tells us about the new plans her brother Jesse has for The Wolfbarrow, how he wants to expand to another town in Wyoming and possibly have her manage the new location.               “I don't know if I want to leave home, though.” She smiles at the both of us and looks at me intently. “I'll miss everyone.”

             
Around 9:30, I feel my phone vibrating. I quickly pull it out of my jeans and see it's a message from Addison.
Blaine, I'm so sorry. I had to go to Big Horn. I won't be able to make it tonight. I'll make              it up to you ;)

             
Relieved she is okay, but disappointed I won't see her or spend the night with her, I type a response.
:( How will you make it up to me? What's in Big Horn?

             
Jeremiah and Gwen are talking amongst themselves about what I think is her unrealistic choice of footwear. She's wearing strappy heels, not something you'd see on a farm, and he picks up her left foot to check out the shoe closer. She's laughing at him, and I look back at my phone, anticipating a salacious reply.

             
You'll just have to wait and see...My brother was there, I had to pick him up.

             
Can't wait ;)
              I hit send, lean back in my chair and grin up at the starry sky, then over to my tipsy company.

             
There is no way I am letting these two drive home in their condition. Their condition? My condition, too. I'm drunk.

             
After Addison's texts I hammer back five more cans of beer, making my personal count ten…maybe eleven...or twelve; I can't remember.

             
Gwen passed out over half an hour ago, and Jer looks like's ready to follow suit.

             
“You guys are staying, bud,” I manage to say without slurring.               I have four bedrooms, and these two are definitely not driving anywhere tonight.

             
“Yep. We are. Thanks, man.” He reaches over to Gwen's arm and shakes her hand. “Hey, baby. Let's get you in bed.”

             
I give him a raised eyebrow, and he shrugs his shoulders at my silent accusation. “What?”

             
Gwen doesn't wake up, and so he leans down to lift her into his arms.

I laugh at him as he can't even stand on his own two feet.
              “Let me.” I push him aside, and he falls back into his lawn chair laughing. Gwen smells like lavender and Budweiser. She's softly snoring, and I try not to drop her as I step up onto the porch.

             
Upstairs I put her in one of the spare bedrooms, cover her with a blanket and close the door behind me when I leave. Jeremiah is making his way up the stairs, holding on to the banister, and slowly placing one foot in front of the other.

             
“Where is she?” he asks me, looking down the hallway at each door.

             
“In there, but you're not going in, bro. Try to be a gentleman.” I point to the closed wooden door and then back at him.

             
“Okay,
dad
. Thanks for a good night. We gotta do this again.”               He leans down to take off his shoes and stumbles in to the adjacent bedroom, leaving the door open. I see him fall onto the creaky wrought-iron bed and sigh loudly—then burp even louder.

             
“Night, sunshine,” I call back to him as I walk down the hall.

             
He laughs.

             
I make my way to my own bedroom, and take my clothes off. I set my phone on the night stand. No new texts. I curl my lip and pull on my pajama bottoms. My bed feels amazing. It must be the alcohol making my sense of touch more deep; the sheets are cool against my heated body.

             
My head sinks into my pillow, and I fall into a deep sleep. I dream of light blue dresses, flowing red hair, a beautiful body lying in a field, and long eyelashes against my chest. My dream feels so real. I can feel her heat beside me; I can touch her skin with my fingertips, and her lips are brushing my throat.

             
Mmm...yes, baby.

             
She surprises me, disappearing into the darkness and suddenly I feel her mouth around me. I am hard as a rock, and her long, slow licks are sending star bursts into my eyelids. They fly open. I'm not dreaming. I am not dreaming
at all
. I reach down to feel a head of hair bobbing between my legs.               Pulling the blanket away, I am mortified.

             
“Gwen! What the fuck?!” I sit up as fast as I can, and she does too, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.

             
“What the hell are you doing?” I growl loudly, then quickly lower my voice as I remember Jeremiah in the room two doors away.

             
“Don't act like you don't want it,” she says in a husky voice. “You've wanted this for years!”               She trails her finger down her neck and between her breasts.

             
“Gwen. No, I don’t. You're drunk. Go back to your own bed.” I get out of my bed, hold my pants over my lower-half, and I open the door, praying she leaves.

             
“Are you kidding me, Blaine?” she says angrily. “Fine. I'll go sleep with Jeremiah; at least he wants me!”

             
She sounds like a whiny brat, and the guilt I felt earlier tonight about not wanting her there is gone like the wind. I shut the door behind her, and I stand listening to make sure she actually walks away.

             
She does; I hear her whispering something to Jeremiah and then a creak of the old iron bed as she climbs in beside him. I turn the lock on my door and climb back into my bed. What the hell was that? I instinctively rub my hand over myself, my erection now gone.

             
Thank you.
I whisper, looking up at the ceiling.

             
Ordinarily I would have been all over something like that. I would have grabbed that girl, thrown her down on the bed and kissed every inch of her, making her scream with anticipation before I drove myself in. She would have exploded around me, and in turn, I into her.               Maybe not with Gwen Wolf, but another girl I found attractive.

             
But I don't want anyone but Addison. I don't want to run my tongue down the throat and chest of anyone else but her. My erection is back, and I bury my face into my pillow, letting out a long groan of frustration.
              Gwen...what am I going to do in the morning when I see you?

             
Act like it never happened probably. I'm not going down that road, and there's no way I'll let Jeremiah find out that the girl he brought to my house as his date just had my entire length in her mouth.

*
              *              *

             
Rex barking outside my bedroom window wakes me up. I look at the alarm clock; it’s 9:53 AM. I rub my hands on my face and sit up. I shouldn't drink like that. I'm only twenty-nine, but I'm not that young anymore. And hangovers have never appealed to me.

             
I toss my pajama bottoms into the hamper in the bathroom and turn the knob in the shower. Steam quickly fills the small room, and I breathe in deeply. Standing under the shower head, I adjust the setting to massage and enjoy the rapid motion pulsating down my neck and back. I just want to stand here all morning, wash this feeling out and the remainder of Gwen off. I close my eyes and wince at the memory of her wiping her mouth with her hand.