The Junkyard Cowboy (Tall, Hot & Texan Book 3) by Christie Craig

Author:Christie Craig [Craig, Christie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: contemporary romance, romantic suspense, romantic comedy, romance, sexy
Publisher: BookEnds
Published: 2017-07-18T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twelve

It took every bit of Clay’s willpower not to touch her, to roll over and pull her into his arms. His gut said she wouldn’t fight it, but he needed more. He wanted her to be the one to initiate it. He didn’t have a freaking clue why it was so important, but he felt it was.

She shifted. “You ever look up at the clouds and see angels and elephants?”

He chuckled. “No, but I saw demons, cars, and guns.”

“Boy-girl thing,” she said.

“Yeah.” That was what this was. A boy-girl thing. A boy-who-really-likes-a-girl thing.

He still didn’t look at her. “Where did you grow up?”

“San Antonio.” He felt her look at him.

“You go back much?” He continued to gaze up at the sky.

“Once a year,” she said.

“Still have family there?”

“Yeah.”

He remembered. “Your sister?”

“No.” He heard that thing in her voice. A little pain. He glanced over. His willpower crashed, and he shifted his arm until the back of his hand touched hers.

“My sister died with my mom,” she answered.

His gut clenched. “Sorry.”

She nodded. “My dad and his new family still live there.”

“He remarried?”

“Yeah.” She hesitated. “The first year after my mama died, he went into a deep depression. Drank too much. Slept too much. He really loved my mom.”

She got quiet. He knew there was more to the story, but he didn’t push.

“The second year he started dating. I think he used women to get over losing her. It was a different woman every few months.” She swallowed. “If he wasn’t working, he was out dating. I was seventeen, I think he just felt I didn’t need him anymore.”

“But you did,” he said, feeling anger at a man he didn’t even know.

“Yeah, kind of.”

“When did he marry?”

“I was eighteen. He got a girl knocked up. Or rather she tricked him into it. She’d told him she was on the pill. She was only seven years older than me.”

The sounds of summer surrounded them. A bird chirping, a fish slashing, the soft breeze rustling through the leaves. “Do you get along now?”

“No, she works real hard to keep me out of her and the twins’ lives. I’m not sure it’s all her fault. I was really rude to her in the beginning. I was still pretty messed up over my mom’s death.”

“It had to be a rough time.”

“Rougher than you think,” she muttered, more to herself than aloud.

“Why’s that?” Shifting, he slipped his hand into hers.

She didn’t answer. He squeezed her hand. “I know now it’s not . . . I mean, the drunk driver was the one who killed them, but when the cops came to our house that day, Dad lost it and kept yelling , asking why the hell she was on that freeway.”

Jennifer caught her breath. “She’d been going to pick up my shoes for the Homecoming dance. I’d insisted they had to be dyed. I was . . . I was the reason she was on that freeway.”

“Fuck.” He rolled over. “That’s not on you.”

“I know, and I’ve spent thousands of dollars in therapy to be able to say it and see it that way.

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