Chapter 21

Warm and cozy, Sandi came awake reluctantly. She stretched, the sheets soft and silky against her skin.

What?

She moved her hand down her body. She was wearing...panties. And nothing else! Oh, dear God!

How had she gotten to this bed with no clothes on? Oh, dear God!

The previous evening rushed at her in hazy vignettes. She had drunk sooo much wine. Even with Nick telling her not to, she had argued and drunk more.

And what else had she done? Had she or hadn’t she?

Shouldn’t she know, even if she had drunk way too much wine and only vaguely remembered the evening, shouldn’t she know?

This was terrifying.

At the very worst, she was a moderate drinker. Maybe half a dozen times in her entire life, she had been buzzed, tipsy, maybe even drunk, but never had she lost a night. She shifted in the bed checking for tender places where she normally didn’t feel them, but drew no conclusions.

Her tongue felt like sandpaper. Crashing cymbals echoed through her brain in a rhythmic clangs. She dared to open her eyes, turn her head and glance at the opposite side of the king-size bed. A distinct impression showed on the pillow encased in pale blue on the other side of the bed. Oh, dear God! She had!

She popped up to a sitting position, hiding her bare breasts with the puffy comforter that covered her. Her head spun and a wave of nausea passed through her. She sat for a minute, letting her stomach settle and seeking her bearings.

He had kissed her. And she had kissed him. They had slow-danced to George Strait on the patio. She strained her brain trying to remember how she got into this bed.

Slowly, she perused her surroundings. She recognized Nick’s bedroom. Her clothing was folded and neatly stacked on the seat of the wooden rocking chair across the room from the bed. Nick’s soiled jacket no longer hung there. Further evidence that he had been in this room while she was naked.

A glass of milk, three chocolate chip cookies on a saucer and a bottle of Advil sat on the small bedside table, along with a note printed boldly in all caps: DON’T TAKE THESE PILLS ON AN EMPTY STOMACH. EAT THE COOKIES FIRST.

“He is sooo bossy,” she mumbled.

She munched on the cookies and washed down two of the Advil tablets with half the glass of milk. How long had he been in this room while she was naked? How had he moved around the room without waking her? How had he undressed her without waking her?

Hunkered behind the Advil bottle was a digital clock showing the time to be 8:30 a.m. and the day to be Sunday. Oh, hell. She had animals at home waiting to be fed. She had a store that needed to be opened. Unfortunately, she had declined Betty Ann’s offer to open it today.

She eased out of bed and gathered her clothing. An odor of stale alcohol assaulted her nose.

She fastened on her bra, stepped into her panties, then her jeans and fastened them, then picked up her sweater, the source of the sour alcohol smell. She spread it to look at it. A purple stain the size of a basketball showed on the front. She pressed it to her nose and sniffed. Her stomached lurched.

Skunk spray, llama spit and now stale alcohol. She shuddered.

Across the room was the door to the bathroom. She tiptoed toward it. Once inside, she vaguely remembered being in it last night and washing the front of her sweater with hand soap.

Peeking into the shower, she saw that it was still humid from use and still felt warm. He had showered and she hadn’t even known it? She berated herself again.

A nice steamy shower was sooo tempting, but she couldn’t take the time.

Her hair looked as if she had been in a windstorm. She used Nick’s hairbrush, then opened drawers looking for toothpaste. She helped herself and rubbed her teeth and tongue with her finger.

She crossed the room and eased the bedroom door open. The sound of a TV broadcasting led her to the kitchen where Nick sat at the table reading the newspaper. An ugly mix of embarrassment, confusion, anxiety and anger skirmished within her.

He looked up and smiled his killer smile. “Heey,” he said softly. “How you feeling?” He put down the paper and got to his feet. “Come have some breakfast.”

She cautiously stepped into the kitchen, too aware that he had seen her naked.

He stood there looking at her, his hands propped on his slim hips. “I fried up some bacon.” He gestured toward the cookstove where several slices of cooked bacon lay on a plate. “I’ll scramble some eggs.”

“I need to get home. I ate those cookies, all three of them”

“You need to eat something with protein.” He hurried to open a bread loaf lying on the counter and popped two slices into a toaster. “Take a seat at the table and I’ll get it together. Eggs will just take a minute.”

With no strength or will to argue, she sank to a chair at the table and set the bottle of Advil beside a salt shaker. She barely remembered eating at this table last night. “Thanks for the Advil. It was thoughtful of you. Although I probably deserve it if you hit me with a hammer. Have you eaten?”

“Earlier.”

He dropped a chunk of butter into a cast-iron skillet. It sizzled at once, filling the air with the soothing aroma of melting butter. She watched as he broke an egg into a bowl, than picked up another. “One’s enough. I don’t —”

But he had already broken the second one. He whipped them madly with a fork, then deftly poured them into the sizzling butter and seasoned them with salt and pepper.

In no time, the eggs were done and the toast had popped up. He put together a plate of the eggs, several slices of bacon and the toast and brought it to her at the table. He even added a jar of strawberry jam. “There you go. Eat up. Nothing like greasy food for a hangover.”

He sat down opposite her and picked up the newspaper again.

The thought that he had seen her naked continued to batter her. If he had undressed her, he had touched her bare skin in places. Gluing her eyes on her plate, she swallowed a bite of the soft scrambled eggs. “I need to ask you something.”

“Shoot.”

Unsmiling, she looked up at him. “What happened last night?”

He sat back, giving her a piercing look. An odd emotion showed in his eyes. “What do you think happened?”

The soft scrambled eggs began to feel like lead in her stomach. She drew a shuddery breath. “Did you undress me?”

“Had to. You poured a glass of wine down your front, then soaked yourself with soapy water.”

She closed her eyes, arched her brow and shook her head. “You took off my bra?”

“It was dripping wet.” His eyes held hers for a few seconds, then broke away. He picked up the newspaper again. “Don’t worry about it, babe. I practically raised my two little sisters and I’ve got an ex-wife. You haven’t got anything I haven’t seen before.” He opened the newspaper.

“Is that so?”

“Yes, ma’am. I might not always be a gentleman, but I don’t take advantage of drunk women. Ever. Although, several times, you did extend an invitation.”

Inside, she winced. Oh, dear God. Had she really done that? If only the floor would open so she could sink through it. She closed her eyes. “I did not.”

“Would I lie? You did.”

She opened her eyes to see him looking at her across his shoulder, his brow arched.

“And where did you sleep?” she asked.

“Beside you. I’ve only got one bed. And my couch is way too short. I didn’t see any point in sacrificing a night’s sleep. You were passed out. You never knew I was there.”

This situation kept getting worse. She had to escape. She had eaten only half the food on her plate, but she rose on shaky knees. “I have to go.”

He closed the newspaper, folded it and dropped in on the table. “Did you want to say ’bye to Buster? I mean, that’s why you came out here, right?”

“Where is he?”

“In the backyard.”

“I’ll stop by and see him on my way out.” She looked around and spotted her purse in the living room on a glass-topped coffee table that looked to be made of a well-used wagon wheel. Last night, she hadn’t noticed it. She walked over, picked up the purse and hung it on her shoulder, then started for the back door. He followed her.

She stopped, turned around and looked up at him. “I feel like hell and I know I look like it, too. Why don’t you look as bad as I do?”

“I dunno. Probably because I stopped after three glasses.”

She gave him a squint-eyed glare. “And you let me drink too much?”

He planted his fists on his hips. “What, you think I forced you to drink a bottle and a half of wine? I tried to tell you we didn’t need to open that second bottle, but you insisted. I think you said something like, ‘I bought it, I brought it and I’m gonna to drink it.’” His brow arched, he stepped back and pointed his finger at her. “Another thing I don’t do is argue with drunk women.”

A picture of herself turning up a wine bottle came to her. Dear God. Drinking straight from the bottle. Will I ever live this down?

Her jaw clenched, her mouth pursed. Without a word, she opened the door and walked out onto the porch.

He followed. “Sandi, stop.”

She stopped, turned and looked up into his sky blue eyes and a serious expression on his ruggedly handsome face. “I’m yanking your chain. Seriously, you were so uptight. It seemed like you needed to let your hair down a little. I tried to be a friend and listen. Your virtue or your safety weren’t at risk.”

She hesitated a few seconds. His eyes were beautiful. And he had thick lashes, like a girl’s. Be a friend and listen? Oh, dear God. What secrets had she told him? “I was not uptight.”

“You were uptight.”

“You tried to listen? What did I say?”

He tilted his head and looked at her from beneath his brow.

“Okay. Don’t tell me then.”

She gave him her back and scanned her surroundings. The day was cloudy and dreary, but still too bright. She dug her sunglasses out of her purse and shoved them on. “Is it going to rain?”

She hoped so. Maybe she would drown. Or at the very least, maybe it would wash away this humiliation.

“Better than a fifty-fifty chance,” he said. “We need it. We had a dry summer.”

“Where’s Waffle?”

He led her to the fenced backyard where Waffle and Randy were play-wrestling. When Waffle saw her, he bounded to the fence. She opened the gate and stepped inside, sank to her knees. He put his front paws on her shoulders and gave her slobbery kisses. “Oh, Waffle, I miss you so much. I wish I could take you home with me.” She couldn’t hold back the tears that sneaked into her eyes. The sweet dog whined and let her hug him. She had read somewhere that dogs didn’t really like to be hugged, but Waffle had always been a hugger.

She soon gave up and started for her car, now sniffling. Nick followed her to her car door and opened it for her. Before she could slide in, he said, “I know you’re not feeling great right now and maybe this isn’t a good time to ask, but next weekend, I wonder if you’d do me a favor.”

“What?”

“I was hoping you might go with me down to Salt Lick. I want to apologize to your aunt and her partner. That might go a little smoother if you’re with me. If you’d go with me, I’d drive up here and pick you up.”

“Aren’t you going to be at work at the Flying C?”

“I’m going back down there later today.”

“It’s sixty-five miles from here. You’re going to drive up here from Salt Lick just to pick me up, then turn around and drive back down there, then turn around again and bring me back here? That’s two hundred miles of driving. That makes no sense.”

He shrugged. “I don’t care if it doesn’t make sense. It’s important to me. I don’t want those two women thinking I’m an asshole.”

She shook her head. Pain darted between her temples. She gritted her teeth and closed her eyes for a few seconds.

“Hey, you okay?” he asked, his voice soft and filled with concern.

She drew a deep breath. “I’m fine, I’m fine. Look, I’ll let you know. My day off is usually Thursday. If I decide to do it, I’ll drive down there and meet you.”

She pulled on her door, but he held it and didn’t let her close it. “Sandi. I don’t want you thinking I’m an asshole either.”

...I practically raised my two sisters...Ol’ Nick is a square shooter.... She didn’t know what she thought of him. But she didn’t think he was an asshole.

“I believe you when you say you didn’t take advantage of me while I was...incapacitated. I admit I was awful. Good enough?”

He straightened and smiled. “Good enough. I’ll call you in a day or two.”

She chastised herself all the way home. He might be right in that she had been under a lot of stress lately, but did that justify drinking herself into oblivion at a virtual stranger’s house and winding up undressed in his bed? She might never be able to face him again. And she certainly would never tell anyone what had happened. Hell. She didn’t even know what had happened.

She arrived back at her house in time to feed everyone and shower and shampoo, which made her feel slightly better physically, but she didn’t know what would make her feel better emotionally and mentally. She was so confused. She didn’t want to like Nick, didn’t want to be lured by him, but she couldn’t help herself.

She would love to stay at home and nurse her embarrassment, but she started for LaBarkery, satisfied she would get there early enough to open it on time. She found her sweet, loyal employee Betty Ann already there. With her was a cute little white fluffy dog with a pink ribbon tied around a topknot. Betsy the Westie. Sandi knew it immediately. It bounced around and made cute barks that sounded like a puppy. How could anyone who called himself a human being be mean to such a sweet little dog? “What are you doing here?” she asked Betty Ann.

“I was afraid you might not want to come in. Like, you know, if you spent the night. I’m waiting for a full report.”

Sandi ducked her chin. “Nothing to report.”

“Did you have a good time? Was it great?”

Sandi couldn’t keep from laughing. Her two employees were determined for her to have a romance. “It was fine. I see you have a new dog.”

“I know I’m not supposed to have her here, but Juanita dropped her off and I haven’t had a chance to take her home. I fed her a couple of Barkies. I put the money for them in the cash register.”

Sandi walked over to her showcase and removed half a dozen of the Barkies and a couple of Little Fidos. “Here. After what Betsy has been through she deserves some more. On the house.”

Betty Ann gave her a huge grin. “Thank you so much.” She picked Betsy up and fed her a Little Fido. “Say thank you to your ga’ma,” she baby-talked to the dog.

Sandi bit down on her lower lip. She was too young to be a grandma. “So Juanita captured you, huh?”

“She brought her by so I could look at her. Look how trusting she is. I couldn’t believe the little thing had been left to run the streets alone. What mean person could leave something so sweet and cute, knowing that in the end something bad would probably happen to her?”

“Happens every day, Betty Ann. It’s sad, but that’s the way it is. I keep warning you about Juanita. Pretty soon you’ll be as tied down as I am.”

***

On Tuesday, before Nick had started his day, Harley called and asked him to drive up to Midland to look at a couple of bulls. Saturday night had nagged at him for two days. He wanted to get better acquainted with Sandi. Saturday night’s behavior notwithstanding, he believed her to be a loving, caring person who’d had some bad luck. He pressed in her cell number. Several burrs passed before she came on the line. “This is Sandi.”

“How are you?”

“I’m fine. How’s Waffle?”

He heard no enthusiasm and no interest in his call. She only cared about Buster. This wasn’t going as he had hoped. Still, he pressed on. “He’s good. We’ve been busy. Listen, I’m on my way up to Midland. Got a business errand to do for Harley and I’m gonna stay tonight out at my place. I was thinking about the past weekend and I was thinking...well, hoping we could try it again.”

“Supper, you mean? Or another visit with Waffle?”

“Either or both. You like barbecue?”

“Oh...I guess so.”

“Well, do you or don’t you?”

“Okay. I like barbecue.”

“Me, too. Maybe we could go to Tag Freeman’s place for some ribs or something. And this time, I’d like to come to your house and pick you up.”

A pause. Finally, she said, “This is Tuesday. Thursday is usually the day I take off. I was planning to drive down to Salt Lick to meet you at the Styling Station. My aunt and her partner both are always in their shop on Thursdays.”

“That’s good. That works for me. Does that preclude us going out for some barbecue tonight? I can pick you up about six.”

She sighed. “Okay.”