Roots and Wings (City Limits #1)(24)
At that moment, what needed improvement most was my understanding of why the whole town called this gorgeous woman Mutt.
“I don’t think my grandpa thought it would stick like it did, to tell you the truth. I think he was just calling me that to dig at my mom, who then left my dad and me. I was a kid and didn’t know what a mutt was at first. I remember him saying, ‘You’re the sweetest Mutt I know.’ I don’t think he was trying to be mean to me. Then everyone else started calling me Mutt, and the meaning of it kind of wore off. I don’t think anyone even thinks about it anymore. It’s just my name.”
I didn’t like it. It wasn’t a thoughtful or flattering nickname; it was cruel, even if it wasn’t meant to be. I had to respect the way she dealt with it, though. Even if her grandfather hadn’t meant for it to be mean, I thought it was sad. Here she’d been abandoned by her mother and then everyone called her a dog.
Admittedly, I hated it.
I’d never call her that.
“What’s your real name?”
O’Fallon looked at me like I was nuts, like she didn’t want to tell me. She sat back and crossed her arms over her chest, looking at me defiantly.
“Tell me,” I urged, then nudged her leg.
“No.”
“Want me to guess?”
She rolled her eyes and then opened the cooler to get another beer, silently offering it to me first. I took it and she retrieved another for herself.
“You can try, but I doubt you’ll guess.”
“Will you tell me if I’m right?” I’d be able to tell by her face, I thought. She didn’t seem like a very good liar. Then again, I was just getting to know her. I didn’t even know her real name. Yet.
“Suzanne?”
She laughed. I committed the sound to memory as it echoed off the nearby water.
“Do I look like a Suzie?” Then she laughed some more but leaned in, enjoying the game.
“No. I’m just warming up. Samantha?” I asked and leaned in a little myself.
“No.”
“Vivian?”
She shook her head, forehead scrunched.
“Natalie? Ashley? Danielle?”
“No. No. No.” Each no punctuated with a flip of her wrist and her finger checking them off.
I stretched my legs out in front of me, and admitted, “This might take a while.”
“That’s okay. I’ve nothing better going on. Besides you look cute when you guess.”
“Cute?”
“Yeah, after you say a name your face does this I’m waiting thing, like you actually might be right. You’re nowhere close, though.”
“Men don’t like to be called cute, O’Fallon.”
“Oh, sorry. What do you prefer? Handsome?”
“Do you think I’m handsome?”
She shrugged noncommittally.
“Come on. You think I’m handsome. That’s fine. I’ll keep guessing. Lydia?”
She giggled, actually giggled. “No.”
“Judy?”
“I’m twenty-six, not eighty! No.”
“Carmen?”
“No.”
“Can you tell me what it starts with?”
“I can,” she said with a shit-eating grin on her pretty lips. “But not yet. This is entertaining.”
I needed leverage.
“I’ll keep guessing, but I’ll just say this, I don’t kiss women if I don’t know their name.” It was a stretch, but it might get me a little clue.
Her eyes flared wide, like I’d challenged her.
“Oh, Vaughn, Vaughn, Vaughn,” she tsked.
“Oh, you, you, you,” I mocked.
“You’re flirting with me.”
By then we were both leaning over the cooler that separated our chairs.
“Maybe.”
“No, you are. I like it, but sweet-talking me isn’t going to get it out of me. I’ve been months and months without a kiss. I can hold out. I’m patient.” She leaned forward and licked her bottom lip.
Shit. She fought dirty.
“You better get to guessing.”
I guessed every name under the sun. She never relented and gave me a clue, and even though the conversation would veer off when I’d mention a name that struck a memory with one of us, we laughed and enjoyed each other until it started getting late.
I didn’t want to leave.
Correction. I didn’t want to leave without a kiss. Something. Anything.
The more time I spent with her the more I wanted to touch her, and all night I found myself fighting the urge to reach out and put my arm on the back of her chair. Or put my hand on her leg. Anything. I was starving for her.
For the most part she kept her cool, but there were these amazing little moments when I’d catch her with this dreamy look on her face as I spoke to her. And I kept catching her looking at my hands, so I played that to my advantage and used them animatedly when I spoke.
“I hate to say this, because I could sit out here all night, but I need to get home.” My watch read a quarter to eleven. I wanted to be in the office at seven.
“I know. I actually think I’m just going to sleep here tonight. I’ll just drive home in the morning.”
Was that a hint?