Settle the general store bill
Settle the bar tab at the GutShot
The last two were confusing. She’d called both of them earlier and been given the runaround for two-hundred-dollar debts. They’d both sent Trigger to collections multiple times, but when she’d tried to pay over the phone as a surprise for him, both owners had refused to settle the tab. So okay, she was going to have to handle this face-to-face. She was tough when she wanted to be. A ball-buster, according to the B’s in her office. Ben, Bernie, and Brad liked to rag on her for being too masculine when she was in a get-shit-done mode, but that’s what a woman had to be in the business world, right? A spit-fire. A ball-buster. A man-eater. If a man acted like that, it was business as usual, but a woman had to take control, take no shit, and also deal with the names associated with being firm and outspoken.
She yanked the truck keys off the hook near the door and clamped her teeth over the keyring as she struggled into her thin jacket and mittens, then her pink winter hat with the fluffy snowball on the top. The door was a strange one. It looked like it was made of rusted iron. It was at least eight inches thick and didn’t match the rustic décor. It looked too industrial to go with the cabin. Just as she reached for the handle, that heavy door swung open. She gasped as she came face-to-face with Trigger. He wore snow-dusted jeans and the same blue plaid shirt he’d worn yesterday before he’d ended up butt-naked in a blizzard.
His startled face probably matched hers, and they just stood there, staring at each other. His shoulders had snow on them, and the beige cowboy hat was pulled low over his eyes. It didn’t cover the striking color, though. She didn’t remember his eyes like this when they were kids, but then again, he’d never looked at her much. Well…not that she’d known of.
“Your hat’s cute,” he rumbled in a gritty voice.
“It is?”
One corner of his lips turned up in a breathtaking crooked smile that left her stunned. He reached up and ruffled the yarn snowball on top. “Pink looks pretty on you. Matches your cheeks. Rosy.”
“Pink and black is my favorite color combination,” she murmured lamely.
The other corner lifted now and she couldn’t pull her attention from his lips if she tried. “Mine’s brown and green.”
“That’s boring,” she teased.
When the smile dipped, she became desperate to fix it. “Green and brown because those are the colors around your ranch?”
Trigger shook his head. “I’m colorblind. It’s about all I see.”
“Oh.” She straightened her hat and fidgeted with the keys. “Have you always been colorblind?”
“Yep. Just like my dad. And my grandpa. And his grandpa. All the men in my family are.”
“What about the girls?”
“Well, girls don’t get this kind of colorblindness, and even if they did, my family doesn’t make baby girls. Only boys.”
“Well, maybe you’ll be the exception to the rule someday,” she chirped optimistically.
He chuckled darkly. “I don’t think so. I can only make boys, and besides all that, I ain’t made to parent a kid. Someday you’ll come back here, older, married, wanting to spend the holidays where you grew up, spend them with your brother.” His voice dipped low and soft, and his gaze dropped to the floorboards. “You’ll be beautiful still. Hair all done up, eyes still the same cornflower blue. Maybe wearing glasses. Laugh lines deeper. You’ll be surrounded by noise. Surrounded by your grown babies and their babies and your smile will still be just as pretty. And me? I’ll be just like I am now. In this place if I’m really lucky. Alone, a gnarled old bachelor, just happy I get that moment to watch you and where you ended up, surrounded by the good stuff. By the grit that makes a life worth livin’.” His eyes were haunted as he lifted that steady gaze to hers. “Do that someday, okay? Come back for Colton. Bring him family. Come back and let me see where you ended up.”
“Okay,” she murmured, confused on why he seemed so sad.
He gave her a phantom of a smile, pushed past her, and then strode with echoing bootsteps toward the hallway.
“Hey, Trigger?” she asked.
“Yeah?”
She shuffled her feet, stalling, because she was scared of him rejecting her when he had her heart pounding like this. “Do you want to go into town with me?”
“For what?” he asked, his chin jerking a little.
“I have a to-do list, and also I’m hungry for anything other than beans.”
“You wanna do dinner?”
She grinned slyly. “Are you asking?”
Trigger turned slowly, squared up to her. He waited a few seconds, studying her face, so she stayed patient, because men like Trigger Massey required quiet persistence.
“Ava Dorset. Do you want to eat dinner with me?” he asked at last.
“Depends,” she said cheekily. “What kind of food are you offering?”
His grin stretched his face and transformed him into something beautiful, if that term could be applied to a beast of a man like him. “Barbeque.”
Of course he’d offered her meat. She would never admit it out loud, but he’d just listed the food of her heart. She mirrored his smile and said softly, “Deal.”
“I’ll drive then. You probably don’t even remember how to drive on ice anymore, City Slicker.”
She wanted to be offended, but his little smirk made her want to play. “We could always ride that horrid horse of yours into town.”
Trigger snorted. “Harley would scrape you off at the first tree. He doesn’t like girls.” Trigger frowned. “Or boys, children, snakes, frogs, lightning bugs, tree branches, grass, dirt, bumble bees, Colton especially, other horses, being tied to anything, the type of grain I feed him, or his life in general. He’s a bit of an asshole.”
Ava giggled. “But the way you called him an asshole sounded like a term of endearment. You love that monster.”
“I love nothing.”
“Oh, because you’re heartless?” she asked, zipping up her jacket crisply.
“That’s right. There’s only gristle in my chest cavity.” He zipped up his own jacket with the wool lining at the collar. It fit him well, and he cut a fine V-shaped figure, his muscular arms pressing against the sleeves. He’d felt really good last night when he’d put just the right amount of pressure on her body with those strong arms.
“You thinkin’ dirty thoughts?”
“No!”
His black eyebrows arched up as he laughed. “Bullshit. A, you’re thinking really loud. B, it’s written all over your face. And C, I can practically smell your pheromones. That was fun last night, but it can’t happen again. I was wrong to come at you needy like that. I was just—”
“Cold from being randomly naked in a blizzard?”
Trig gave an eyeroll and gestured to the door. “Let’s go warm that truck up. He’s old, and it takes a few minutes.”
“That’s what she said,” Ava muttered.
“Great, you’re a pervert now. This next two weeks should be fun.”
“For me. I get to watch you try and resist me in my holey, saggy pajamas and the retainer I have to wear at night to keep my two front teeth straight. And those glasses you mentioned earlier? Already have ’em. I’m already aging. Can you see my deep laugh lines?” She pointed to the corner of her eye and tried to keep a straight face while she gave him a questioning glance.
“Twenty-eight isn’t old, you little psychopath. You’re still a spring chicken. Me, however, I’ve got a bum trick knee, and even if I had no instincts for weather at all, I could tell a storm’s coming just from my aching leg. That’s old man shit right there.”
He’d never talked so easy, and Ava had trouble taking her eyes from his mouth as he talked. Even the way he formed words was unfamiliar and interesting. He had a scar down one side, a small one, mostly hidden by his dark, trimmed beard.
“What happened to your lip?”
“Fighting,” he answered without a single millisecond of hesi
tation. Trig pushed open the door for her and then waited until she made her way outside before he followed.
“That’s a serious door.” Ava pointed to the iron barrier. The rust color matched the metal numbers nailed onto a plaque right above an old beer bottle opener someone had nailed beside the old porch swing. There were long cuts in the wood that were splintered in places. Those numbers made her smile though. One zero, one zero. She’d always loved numbers that repeated themselves.
“I’ll tell you something silly.”
“Serious Ava with a silly story? All right, let’s hear it. I’m mentally prepared.”
She flicked her pink mitten clad fingertips at the 1010. “Sometimes I make wishes on numbers that repeat.”
“Superstitious? I wouldn’t have called that.”
“Not really superstitious. I just like the idea that you can make a wish and something good happens, just because you think positively about it. Just because you want it real bad.”
Trig had gone completely still and serious. “What would you wish for right now? Right this minute?”
Lifting her chin high, she rested her pointer finger on the number and closed her eyes. I wish I could save this place.
When she opened her eyes, Trig was watching her with an unreadable expression. And after a few seconds, he touched the 1010 and closed his eyes and went still. And when he opened his eyes, they were a little darker, a little less wild.
She would bet her bones they had just made the same wish. She wouldn’t admit it because he wouldn’t understand the reasons she was getting invested in saving this place. Hell, she didn’t understand it herself. There was something about Trig. Something about the way he was now as a man. Something about how he’d always seemed aloof when they were kids, but he’d paid more attention to her than she’d realized.
She had a feeling she had been wrong about a lot.
He held out his hand, and she dropped the keys onto the scuffed-up material of his glove. Bustling to keep up, she followed his long strides through the snow and around to the back of the cabin. There was a detached garage made of logs that matched the home. When he yanked open the door, she gasped as she entered. There were three Harley Davidson motorcycles and an old Ford truck in two-tone brown. It looked old as dirt, but it was clean and had new tires. She followed him to the truck, and as she slid onto the clean, maroon, leather bench seat, Trig turned the engine and it blared right to life.
“I fixed this up. Bought it for a thousand dollars. Dumped two grand into it, and I’ll keep running it into the ground until I can’t save it anymore.” Trig blasted the heat, which was frigid air, currently, and pointed the vents at her. “Maybe when you come back someday, I’ll still be driving the same truck.”
“You have it in your head that you’ll be stagnant forever.”
“Is that a bad thing?”
“No. Not necessarily. If it’s what you want. If it’s what makes you happy and keeps your soul steady.”
“My soul steady,” he repeated low. “I like that.”
“Those Harleys. How much are they worth?”
“Not for sale.”
Her breath froze in front of her face with the put-upon sigh she offered him. “Trig, you’re going to have to make some sacrifices for this place.”
He huffed a single laugh. “I’ve sacrificed plenty.”
“How much,” she gritted out as he pulled the Ford out of the garage.
A strange sound emanated from his chest. It sounded downright feral, and chills rippled up her forearms. “Fifteen each for the older ones. The newer one is mine. Giving it up would mean giving up a piece of me. It would be giving up my ability to have a shit day and rip out of here on the bike and just get lost for a while.”
“That’s what it’s like? An escape?”
“Have you never been on a Harley before?”
“Never. I’m a safe, well-behaved good girl with a firm belief in seatbelts.”
When Trigger made a snoring noise, like she was boring, she whacked him on the arm. “One of us is going to survive to old age, and one of us is going to make questionable decisions that jeopardize his safety and—”
“As soon as this snow clears, I’m taking you out on a ride.”
“What? No. Seat belts. Were you not just listening to my concerns?”
“Woman, stop,” he demanded, casting her a frown. “What’s the point of living until old age if you forget to live on your way there?”
Well that drew her up. She wanted to be witty and smart and come up with some epic retort that made him bow down to her impeccable style of arguing, but she just sat there with her mouth hanging open. Again. “I thought you were a dumb jock.”
“What?” he asked, resting one arm over the wheel and one on the edge of his window as he guided them down the snowy driveway that led to the main road.
“You played all the sports and never talked. You were always rude to me, but I saw you pay attention to other girls. I assumed you charmed them with your face, not your intelligence.”
“God, you’re a pill.” But the smile that tugged at the corner of his mouth said he didn’t mind her pill-like qualities. “I was good at sports, but I also made good grades. Does that turn you on, Nerd?”
“I was not a nerd! I skipped class twice. Mr. Redding’s science class. I hid in the bathroom, and once I smoked a cigarette with Barbie MacDonald.”
“She was bad,” he drawled with a chuckle.
“She was the biggest rebel I knew! I looked up to her! She offered me a smoke in the bathroom, and I felt like a badass until I coughed a lot and she yanked the cigarette out of my hand and stomped off.”
“In those combat boots of hers?”
“Yep, she always wore them. I tried to buy a pair on clearance once, but I couldn’t pull them off, so I returned them. Barbie was so cool.”
“Barbie still lives here and probably wears the same shoes. She has matured zero percent while you…”
Ava pulled her legs up crisscross-applesauce to conserve heat. “While I what?”
“You grew into a woman.”
The way he said “woman” gave her the strangest fluttering sensation deep in her stomach.
Trigger continued, “The minute you start looking at someone else and thinking they have their shit together…you fail yourself. The minute you look at someone else and wish for their life? You fail yourself. You’re doing just fine, and you never needed to be anyone but you. You were always the one to look up to. You just didn’t see it.”
“Did you? See it?”
“What’s on the to-do list?”
“Trigger! You’ve been inside of me. You owe me answers.”
“My fingers have been inside you, not my dick.”
“There’s a difference? I mean, besides the fact that your dick is the size of a damn mutant eggplant—”
“Jesus, Ava,” he muttered with a scrunched-up face. “Don’t use the word mutant when you talk about a man’s cock.”
“Oh, my God, you just said ‘cock.’ Like in a romance novel.”
Trig snickered and leaned his head back on the rest, eyes on the snowy road. “I saw you just fine back then.”
“Why were you so rude to me all the time?”
“I wasn’t rude. I was just…safe.”
The air coming out of the vents was finally warming up, so she held her fingers in front of it. “Explain safe.”
“I paid attention to the girls who didn’t matter.”
Ava’s heart rate picked up double-time, and she kept her attention carefully on the pink material of her mittens. “Did I matter?”
“Yeah. And that’s all you get today because I only put two fingers in you. If it was my mutant cock, you could have all the answers you want.”
“You don’t play fair.”
“Never said I did.”
When she let off a growl, he laughed. “Did you just growl at me? That was the least terrifying thing I’ve ever heard.”
&nb
sp; “You talk a lot. It surprises me,” she said suddenly. “You used to be so quiet. I would forget what your voice sounded like some weeks.”
“I’m quiet around strangers. That whole school was full of people who felt risky.”
“Did I feel risky?”
“More than anyone else there.”
“Did you have a crush on me, Trigger Massey?”
“Nah, I didn’t get crushes. Heartless, remember? Besides, you were dating around.”
“Dating around with two boys, not sleeping with, so don’t even hint that I was a ho.”
“Remember that guy you dated freshmen year?”
A sliver of discomfort snaked its way through her middle. “I don’t want to talk about this.”
“Well, we need to because I got suspended for you.”
“What?” she yelped.
“Eddie Young was bragging about getting to second base with you in the locker room. I was a senior. Colton was in there, too. We were trying to keep our cool, but your brother was pissed, and I was pissed, and Eddie was making you sound easy to everyone in the locker room. I knew the whole school would be talking about it by lunch time. Knew it. You were gonna get bad hurt by the things people said, so…”
“So, what?”
“So, I beat the shit out of him. In front of everyone. I gave them something else to talk about.”
“That’s why you got suspended? You didn’t get to walk the stage for graduation!”
“So?”
She just stared at his profile. Things were sooo different from what she’d thought. All these years, she’d hated him, misunderstood him, been confused by him. She’d been uncomfortable just thinking about him, and he’d secretly been her champion. And he hadn’t even done it for credit. He’d hid it, taken his punishment quietly. Ava pulled her mitten off and chewed on the edge of her thumbnail. She gave her attention to the piney woods that blurred by. “If you could go back, would you do it just the same?”
“No.”
“What would you have done differently?” she asked.
“Homecoming dance,” he said without hesitation. “I was graduating that year, was thinking about leaving for college, and you were nice. You tried to be. You were with your friends at the dance, and I was sitting with Colton on the other side of the gym on the bleachers. The DJ announced it was ladies’ choice on the next song.”