Part Time Cowboy

Though she wasn’t really a therapist at the moment. She was a bed-and-breakfast owner who was sinking her life savings into a place with leaky pipes, populated by grumpy, muscular men. Who said she didn’t make good life choices?

He unwound all of her clothing—thank God she hadn’t used her panties. She was just really, really thankful. Then he stood up, the sodden garments in his very large hand, his dark brows drawn together. “This isn’t a quick fix. You will need a plumber. Which my brother will pay for.”

“He said he wasn’t sure where all that fell in the agreement.” She reached out and took the ball of clothes, water dripping onto the floor.

“But I am,” he said, his voice hard. “It’s BS to act like he won’t pay for a burst pipe. Obviously that had nothing to do with your improvements. My brother is just being a lame landlord. Trust me, he’s not doing it on purpose. He’s just...nonfunctional right now.”

Sadie’s heart squeezed tight. “I’m sorry about his wife. I... If he ever needs to talk...”

“He would rather shove barbed wire under his fingernails. And I’m being literal.”

“Okay, then, so maybe vouchers for my services wouldn’t go over well in exchange for this debacle.”

“Connor isn’t a talker,” Eli said.

“Well, big surprise,” she retorted, dumping the wet clothes into the sink and walking out of the space that really was way too small to be sharing with a man of his stature.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“It just seems like it runs in the family, that’s all.”

“Meaning?” he asked.

“You’re a little uptight,” she said, walking near the bed and feeling a sudden surge of heat and self-consciousness. Dear Lord, it was like she wasn’t even an adult anymore. Internally jittering because she was standing near both a man and a bed and they were alone.

“If by uptight you mean responsible for a shit-ton of stuff, sure,” he bit out, “I’m uptight. Do you need water?”

“I have some,” she said. “All over my floor.”

“That isn’t what I meant,” he said, his civility clearly almost at an end. “You’re going to need...coffee in the morning at least, I assume, and you need to shower.”

She lifted a shoulder. “It wouldn’t hurt.”

“Either Connor will get his ass in gear and try to fix this tomorrow, or we’ll want to call out a plumber. Either way you don’t have water tonight, because the main has to stay shut off since the pipes are so old. And it means you don’t have water until midmorning tomorrow. So, would you like to come to my place and shower and get a couple gallons of water?”

She blinked. “I...uh...”

“It’s a simple question.”

“I just didn’t expect you to extend me hospitality,” she said.

“I’m not a complete asshole.”

“Oh. Okay.”

“You say that like you don’t believe me.”

She shrugged. “I don’t know, Eli, but whenever you’re around I get a tension headache. Or I end up in handcuffs. So, suffice it to say, I’m not entirely convinced that you aren’t a total asshole. Sorry.”

And she also wasn’t convinced she wanted to go to his house and get naked when he was in a nearby room. And run her hands all over her wet, slick skin, which would inevitably feel really good. And with his image so very large in her mind...

Yeah, well, again, she regressed in the company of this man. What grown woman worried about this stuff? It was...prurient. And juvenile. And things.

She needed both a shower and some water and the man was offering. So she should stop sweating, and stop insulting him, and just go with it.

“That would be great, actually,” she said. “And I’m sorry about the asshole thing.”

He put his hands on his lean hips and she took a moment to admire him. His uniform conformed to every muscle in his body; the tan shirt and dark brown tie, along with the gold-star-shaped badge honest-to-coffee did things to her insides that were unseemly.

Obviously she needed to buy batteries for her long-neglected vibrator. Dammit, how sad was it that her vibrator was neglected. A sex life, sure. People had crap to do. Who had time to go around hooking up and sweating and making walks of shame? She certainly didn’t.

But she barely took the time to orgasm anymore. And when she did, she had to kick Toby out of the room, because it was awkward, and then it sort of felt like she was announcing her masturbatory intentions to her cat, which felt even weirder. There was something unspeakably sad about the whole thing.

But that was the reason Eli’s presence had her so shaken. That was her story, and she was sticking to it.

“Whatever,” he said. “Come with me.”

He certainly didn’t make a big song and dance about graciousness. He almost seemed burdened by inescapable chivalry, which was sort of hilarious, or would be if she wasn’t so busy marinating in her embarrassment.

“Let me get some clothes,” she said. “You can wait downstairs.” Because she would probably fizzle into an ash ball and blow away in the wind if he watched her pull a new bra out of a drawer.

“Fine,” he said, walking out of the bedroom and swinging the door partway closed. She waited until she heard his footsteps on the stairs before rummaging for new clothes. She pulled out a long-sleeved thermal shirt and a pair of black yoga pants, and a new bra and panties. And then she got a duffel bag to conceal it all in.

She stuffed the clothes inside and walked downstairs to where Eli was waiting, standing there staring at Toby, who was still on the table, looking defiant.

“I’m ready,” she said. “Do you have jugs at your place?”

“Yes,” he said. “We always save a bunch for target practice, so that won’t be a problem.”

Holy hell, she really wasn’t in San Diego anymore. She was in Oregon, no question at all. “I should have guessed.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked, holding the door for her.

“Nothing. I just forgot the kinds of things you good ol’ boys get up to in your spare time. I’ve been living in a city, if you recall.”

“You’ve been gone for how long?” he asked, walking down the front porch steps. She followed him closely, clutching her bag to her chest. Looking at his dark brown pants, which seemed to be giving his butt a hug while shouting, “Look at it! Look at it!”

“Ten years.”

“And where have you been in those ten years?”

“Polite conversation?” she asked.

“Why don’t we try it?”

“I’m game if you are. Okay, I went to three different schools in four years. I started in Tampa, because, parties and the beach. Which is nothing like the beach here. Turns out, I hate college parties and breathing in Florida is like inhaling soup. So I lasted a year there. I basically toured the South.” She increased her pace to keep up with Eli’s long strides, following him down the darkened driveway. He pulled a flashlight off his belt and used it to light up the bark-laden ground. “Louisiana, North Carolina, and after I graduated I went to Texas, which you really don’t want to mess with, just ask the locals.”

“After that you went to California?” he asked.