Slow Burn (6 page)

He slaps my back and laughs. “Good thing he did, because he stocked the fridge with ice-cold beer.”

“Seriously?”
Sweet
. Saves me the trip into town to get more.

“Seriously. Dontcha love me now?” he says as he heads toward the kitchen while I head toward the bedroom to drop off my stuff.

“I’d love you even more if you grabbed me one. Or two or three,” I yell down the hallway to him.

Pulling the brim of my hat down, I sink down in the chair a bit more. The sun feels good on my skin and the ice-cold beer sliding down my throat feels even better. Walker keeps
yakking on and on like a woman, and I tune him out. He definitely got our mother’s talk-about-fucking-nothing-ad-nauseam gene.

I close my eyes, and my thoughts wander back toward last night. And then they drift to how fucking great the sex was. How great Haddie was. I feel like a chick thinking about it again, about her again, but shit, the sex was incredible. Not to mention that it’s such a damn turn-on when a woman is confident and not afraid to speak her mind in the sack.

“What’s your deal, dude?”

“Huh?” I glance at Walker.

“Who is she?” he asks with a smirk.

“Who is who?” I aim for classic avoidance. Walker doesn’t need to know zip about Haddie because it was just a one-night stand. And if he thinks any differently—Mr. I love to be in a relationship—he’ll run blabbing to Mom, and then she’ll start in on me about grandbabies. And of course, then I’ll get the phone call from Dad telling me she’s driving him crazy with all of this baby nonsense, but can I hurry it up some so that he can have some peace and quiet? Shit, I’m okay with having kids someday, just not now.

I’ve still got oats to sow, places to see, and people to do before I take a chance and bareback.

“Becks … you’re sitting over there with your eyes closed, a stupid-ass smirk on your face, and you’re adjusting your dick every five fucking seconds.” He raises his eyebrows at me. “So either you’re remembering getting lucky—and it seems like it was a damn good lucky—or else you’re having some kind of pornographic wet daydream, and if that’s the case, you’re a sick fuck since you’re doing it while I’m sitting right here.”

I stare at him and see amusement in my pestering little brother’s eyes. “Shut up.” It’s not a very good comeback, but it’s all I’ve got, because he caught me red-handed.

“Ha! I knew it!” he says, turning in his lounge chair to
face me. “What poor woman was subjected to your lack of skill last night?”

And so his screwing with me begins. I love my brother to death, but he needs some new fucking comebacks. I swear to God he hangs out too much with his girlfriend, Aubrey, because he couldn’t be sporting more estrogen if he were wearing some lipstick and heels.

I start to respond to his dim-witted comment when I hear a cell phone ring. I drop my head to the side and stare at him. Yep. Way too fucking much estrogen. “Please, tell me that is not your ringtone?” I beg of my brother as a Katy Perry song plays on.

He looks at me like I’m crazy. “Dude, my cell is right here,” he says, holding it up for proof. “That’s yours.”

What the …? I rise from the chair and head toward the sliding-glass doors, where I set my phone on the counter inside. Katy keeps singing about California girls and melting Popsicles, and I swear to God, this has to be one of Colton’s fucking pranks. A final parting gift before he left for his honeymoon. The last time he did this my ringtone was “I Touch Myself,” and it went off in the middle of a pit crew meeting. He’s such an asshole sometimes.

I reach for my black iPhone, the screen announcing Rylee’s name. He had better not have fucked with my contacts too.

“Hello?” I answer the phone cautiously.

“Becks? Why do you have Haddie’s phone?” Rylee’s voice comes through loud and clear, and all of a sudden, it hits me. Haddie picked up the wrong phone this morning when I dropped her off. But what female has a plain black cell phone case? Haddie’s anything but plain. “Becks, you there?”

This is fucking stellar. I might as well post on social media that I had sex with Haddie because me answering her cell phone did just as well. For fuck’s sake. Deflection is my only choice. “I’m here…. Shouldn’t you be doing something
else on the first day of your honeymoon instead of calling me?”

“We’re delayed at the airport,” she says at the same time I hear a flight number being called in the background.

I laugh. “Like that’s gonna stop Colton from getting busy—”

“Are you with Haddie?” she says, cutting me off, and I can hear the curiosity in her voice. I don’t want to deal with this, especially because Walker is standing in the doorway, hanging onto my every word.

“No. I don’t know where she—”

“Then why do you have her cell phone?” She lets the question linger, and I struggle with an explanation that she’ll believe. “Did you two—”

“Give me the phone.” It’s Colton’s voice, and now I know I’m screwed. I hear shuffling and then, “Becks?”

“Hello, Mr. Rings-with-strings, you old married fucker.”

He laughs. “Dude, at least I’m getting some on a more than regular basis. You’re just jealous. If you decided to lower your standards and get some too, you’d be a much happier…. Oh shit …” And I swear I can hear the light switch on in his head. “You slept with Haddie, didn’t you?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” I tell him, grimacing momentarily. “Nothing happened.”

“Aha, you so did!” He shouts out with a mocking laugh. “Nothing happened, my ass…. Besides the only time you take a chick’s cell phone is if you’re escaping in the dark before she wakes up, or if you’re so flustered from figuring out whether to kiss her good night … er … good morning”—he chuckles again—“that you grab it accidentally.”

“Whatever. They were both on your kitchen counter. I must have grabbed the wrong one.” What he doesn’t know won’t kill him.

“Yeah, right, and I’m the goddamn Easter bunny.”

“Well, you do like tail.” I offer.

He chuckles again “Yeah, just one. I’m reformed now,” he says, before falling silent for a moment.

“In that respect, yes … but every other part of your life? You’re still a crazy fucker.” I walk over to the refrigerator, pull out an IPA, and twist the lid off. “Seriously, nothing happened.” When he just grunts in disbelief, I continue talking before he starts thinking too much about it and asks more questions I’ll have to dodge. “So, why are you calling?”

“Ah, the subtle change of topic … like that doesn’t scream
I fucked her
.” He laughs.

“I’m hanging up now,” I threaten, knowing this can go on and on with him.

“Sweet Jesus, dude,
relax
. Don’t be such a little bitch. I was actually dialing you while Ry was calling Haddie to ask a favor.”

“Anything.” No details needed. It’s Colton, after all. My brother from another mother.

“I just got a call from Firestone. The shipment of tires is two days early—”

“That’s a first…. What the hell happened? Is Armageddon coming or what?” I laugh. Our semitruck full of sponsorship tires is usually two weeks late and always forces us to trim some time off of our testing.

And time on the track is like gold.

“No shit. I said something similar to Ry.”

“Ha. Yeah, I’m sure that’s what you were moaning to her.”

“Whatever, dude. You’re just jealous.” He laughs and then stops. “Or maybe not. Maybe you were busy moaning yourself, huh, Daniels?

“Fuck off. I told you that—”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah … keep on thinking I’m buying it and I’ll keep believing you. Not.”

“What do you need?” I exhale out in a frustrated breath.

“Don’t think I’m not noticing the change of topic here, but our flight just got called, so I’ve gotta go…. Look, I know you said you might go up to the farmhouse for a couple of days …”

“I’m there right now.”

He sighs. “The trucker is on a tight timeline, needs to turn the truck, and get back before that storm hits the Midwest…. Man, I hate to ask …”

“No, you don’t.”

He laughs deep and loud, and there’s the sound of movement on the other end of the phone. “You’re right. I don’t …”

“You suck for asking when I just got here and am on my fifth or sixth
cerveza
, but yeah, I’ll drive back to town in the morning and open up shop for the delivery.”

“Thanks, brother. I owe you.”

“That’s the understatement of the year.”

“Hm. Maybe you already were paid in kind.” He laughs. “I did warn you Ry had a hot friend. I guess you decided to dip your thermometer in and take her temperature.”

“You’re a sick fuck!”

“You wouldn’t want me any other way.”

“True. But nothing happened.” I hear the flight called in the background as he snorts a response to my denial. “Fly safe.”

“Later. And thanks.”

I hang up the phone and immediately dial my own cell, part of me hoping she picks up the phone, and the other part of me hoping she misses the call.

I have one more ring before my voice mail picks up when she answers.

“’Lo?”

The male voice throws me for a loop. I pull the phone away from my ear and look at the screen to make sure I dialed the correct number. Yep. Sure as shit did.

Who the fuck is answering my phone? Did I lose it at the wedding instead?

“’Lo?” he says again, irritated. He’s irritated? He’s answering my fucking phone.

“Who the hell are you?”

“What’s it to you?”

His arrogance fuels my temper. “Because it’s my goddamn phone you’re answering.”

“What?” Now it’s his turn to be confused as fuck. “Hey, babe?” he says, his mouth pulled away from the receiver, but I can still hear it clear as day. And I can hear Haddie’s voice answering him.

Babe?
Did I actually hear that right? Did I miss something?

“Some guy is calling and says you have his phone….”

I hear shuffling and garbled words. “Hello?” Her breathless voice fills the line, and even though I’m not really sure what in the hell is going on, my balls tighten at the sound of her sexy-ass voice.

“You have my phone.” I’m not trying to be a dick, but I can’t help it. Less than ten hours ago, we were having sex, and now she has some guy answering my phone? I guess when she says no strings, she really means no strings. “When can you take time out of your
busy
schedule to meet up so we can switch?” I can’t hide the sarcasm in my voice.

Seems like sweet Haddie isn’t so fucking sweet.

She’s silent for a beat. “Becks?”

“Yup.” At least she remembers my name. Fucking ridiculous. “When can we meet up?”

“Becks, are you okay?” There’s a concern that I don’t want to hear in her voice, but by now I’ve moved from shocked to bitter. Fucking women. “Oh. Oh,” she says as she realizes why I’m pissed. “It’s not what you think. Dante’s—”

“How about tomorrow? What time can you meet tomorrow,
babe
?” Did I really just say that? What the hell am I jealous for? No fucking strings, right? So then why do I feel like I’m tangled in a goddamn cobweb?

“Oh …” I hear the hurt in her voice. And now I’m pissed
that I’m acting how I’m acting. It was a night of incredible sex.
Get over it, dude
. Grab your balls back and suck it up.

Then I hear her sigh. And fuck if that sound doesn’t bring back memories of burying myself in her last night, over and over into the early morning.

“Um, I can’t,” she says, and I can hear the television in the background fading as she moves around. “I have a commitment tomorrow, and then an event all night.”

I bet you have a commitment
. I shake my head. “Where’s the event?”

“Downtown. I can meet up with you in the afternoon before I have to be there if you want.”

“Fuck,” I say, since I was hoping to head back to the ranch after I met with the trucker. “Yeah, okay … I’ll figure out how to make it.”

“Becks?”

I hate the searching tone in her voice. If this really was a onetime thing, then why are we both acting like fucking teenagers?

And they say sex doesn’t complicate things.

“Yeah?” I respond, but I’m getting impatient. I want to hang up, get my phone back, and take a break while Ry and Colton are on their honeymoon so that we can skip this awkward stage where both of us are overanalyzing what the other is thinking.

She sighs again. “I just … last night …”

And then I hear his voice again.
“Babe, I’m gonna hop in the shower.”

“… was a mistake,” I finish for her. Great sex but huge mistake. You don’t fuck friends. Lesson learned.

“No, it wasn’t. I thought that—”

“Apparently it was.” I shift and move toward my bedroom just in case Walker is listening. “We may have agreed to no strings, Had, but fuck if we didn’t fray the edges some.”

“‘Fray’?”

“Yeah.” I take a deep breath.

“What the hell does that mean, Becks? We both went into it knowing what was there.”

“Yep, we sure did.” Mayday, Mayday, this conversation is going downhill fast.

“Then what’s the problem?”

“We blurred the lines,” I say, “and now we need to clear them up.”

“You sound pissed.”

“Nope, I’m just fucking peachy. I’ll call you when I’m in town tomorrow.”

“Becks, wait! I don’t unders—”

“Your rules. I sure hope they’re clear to you. Good night.”

When I hang up the phone, a mixture of anger and relief sits unsettled in my gut. Whatever. Bygones. I toss the phone on the counter and take a long pull on my beer.

“‘Peachy’?” I cringe at the sound of Walker’s voice. The eavesdropping little fucker. “Who was that?”

“Shut the fuck up, dude.” I toss my bottle cap at him. “None of your business.”

J
ust fucking peachy?

If there’s supposed to be no strings—which was my own rule, for God’s sake—then why am I standing here staring at Becks’ phone, upset at his nonchalance about last night?

Shit, he has every right to be an asshole to me. I groan at the irony that today of all days Dante would show up and then answer my damn phone.

Beckett’s damn phone.

I rest a hip against the kitchen counter, and as much as I tell my head not to go there, I can’t help the thoughts and images playing in a loop from last night. I remember looking up at him as his arms flexed on either side of my body, filling me, challenging me, satisfying me.