Chirp(43)

Hanna was right. He needed to leave her alone. Maybe he didn’t want to give her his class ring, but he sure as hell didn’t want to hurt her either. When her goat duties were over and she came back home, he’d keep his distance. No more picnics in the park, or banquets, or unnecessary conversations. He could go right back to the moody son of a bitch he’d been when he arrived. That should make her fall out of love with him pretty damn fast.





Blaze


Blaze almost cried when Rance walked away. When she’d claimed this wasn’t her home, and he’d said it was, joy bubbled in her chest. But it only lasted a second after he’d pointed out that the rent she paid entitled her to call it that. He’d given her several reasons to come back, but not the right one. He didn’t miss her—want her—need her. He didn’t even like her.

Yeah, she bet he’d told Seth and Nick plenty. No question they were eager to meet the freak who’d seduced their big brother and been so stupid she hadn’t even known she was a virgin. She’d wager they’d gotten a good laugh.

Just as Helga had taught her, Blaze gulped three deep breaths. In through the nose, out through the mouth. The exercise had worked in the past, but not today.

Her spirits had lifted when Rance came out again because, like an idiot, she thought he’d returned to say he missed her. But instead he climbed onto his Harley and took off like a thief. Appropriate. He’d stolen everything from her. Heart. Innocence. Love. No, not stolen.

She’d given it freely.





20


Rance


The next day Rance glared at the cigarettes but couldn’t bring himself to smoke one. If he did, his one month nicotine-free was all for nothing.

While he’d been in town the day before, Chirp had changed the sheets on her bed and made his. The pile of clothes he’d left in his chair were gone. Even after the awkward sex and difficult conversation, she was still taking care of him. He guessed that as an heiress she was used to people catering to her every whim, but somehow she remained unspoiled. Didn’t put herself before others, and he’d never seen a single indication she felt entitled to special treatment.

She’d placed a vase on the dining table filled with Indian paintbrushes and phlox from the field across the road. Gran used to do the same thing. Said she needed to “pretty things up” when company came.

He turned his attention to the hamburger meat on the counter. He hoped he remembered all the ingredients for his special recipe. Later, when Seth and Nick arrived, he’d fire up the grill. Afterward, if they wanted, he’d take them to The Roost. Since the town was gearing up for the festival, the local bar should be flooded with tourists. Hell, maybe he’d even find a woman to suit him.

It didn’t take long to get his menu in order, and then he looked around for something else to do. He had time to kill. Could walk to Hanna’s and try to reason with Chirp again and straighten out the misunderstanding. Explain that she couldn’t fall in love with the first guy who paid attention to her. She had her whole life ahead of her.

She’d go back to Houston at some point and take her rightful place. Attend galas and operas, and appear in the society pages. He’d never fit into that world. He picked up the cigarettes, shook one out, brought it to his nose, and inhaled. Damn, he craved it. Bad. He replaced it, then crushed the box in his fist and tossed it in the trash.

He stepped onto the porch and gazed across the pond. Not a ripple or a whiff of a breeze. A bullfrog croaked a steady rhythm that sounded like a motor grinding. He went back inside, laced his boots, and trekked out to the shed.

A cloud of dust trailed behind as he thundered down the road on his Harley. When he got to town, he found that most of the side streets were roped off and people were busy setting up food wagons, carnival games, and arts-and-crafts booths. Local business owners hustled to arrange outside tables and shelves for their yearly sidewalk sale.

He made a slow pass down Main Street and parked in front of the bar. The place was already more packed than usual. Normally he’d have a drink, but he wasn’t in the mood—for much of anything. He wondered if Chirp had attended the festival before. He’d never asked. Gran would have wanted her to but wouldn’t have forced her. If she hadn’t, he would hate for her to miss the closing ceremony fireworks. He’d try to see her on Saturday and convince her to come. No. What he needed was to stop thinking about her. And he would. Starting now.

After killing a couple of hours in town, he drove home to shower. Now, standing on the porch, he watched a Chevy truck barrel up the dirt road. When it skidded to a halt, Nick emerged first and threw his arms around Rance. “Seth still can’t drive worth shit. We’re lucky to be alive.”

“That is not true! I’m an excellent driver,” Seth said, falling in behind Nick and taking his turn with Rance. “Damn, look at you. Beefed up a little, haven’t you?”

“Yeah. That’s what decent food will do for you. Y’all come in. I can’t wait to show you the place.”

After a tour and more complaints from Nick, Rance got beers from the fridge and placed them on the table. Seth grabbed his and downed half of it.

Nick pulled a sack from his duffel and pitched it to Rance. “Got y’all some gifts.”

Rance pulled out T-shirts and read the first one out loud. “I Didn’t Like Prison. They Got the Wrong Kind of Bars. Funny, real funny.”