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Steal and Starlight

Page 53

by Atreus Rosewood

The entire weekend passed by in a haze of pleasure. There was something about Rhett that just drove me crazy. I thought it might die down after a while. After all, that’s what had always happened with the women I’d dated before. But not Rhett. Every time I was near him, it was like touching a live wire. Those blue eyes, the way his blonde hair shone in the sun, and the scent of his skin getting warm during the heat of the day… all of it drove me absolutely insane with lust. I couldn’t get enough of him if I tried.

When Sunday afternoon finally rolled around and we were heading back into town, I felt almost sad. I didn’t want to go back to real life. I just wanted to stay down by that creek with Rhett forever, living an endless life of warm days and starlit nights, nothing but my best friend to keep me company. How could it be any better than that?

And I was starting to realize that I no longer cared about staying in Sagebrush. Two weeks ago, it had been my home. Or at least, that’s what I’d thought. But when I really looked at it and got down to the nitty-gritty, I realized it was Rhett. He was my home. He had been all along, I’d just been too naïve to see it.

Wherever he went, I would follow. Simple as that.

We pulled the truck back into town just as the sun was dropping low behind the feed store, painting the whole street up gold, same as it had the evening we left. Dolly’s was already lit up warm and yellow through the front windows, and my stomach gave a low growl at the smell of her cooking drifting out onto the sidewalk before we’d even got the truck parked.

“Smells like meatloaf tonight,” Rhett said, climbing out and stretching his arms over his head, his shirt riding up just enough to show a strip of tanned stomach that about derailed my whole train of thought.

“Smells like heaven is what it smells like,” I said, grabbing the cooler out of the truck bed. “Come on, Buttercup. Let’s go eat before I starve to death right here in this parkin’ lot.”

We carried our gear up the back stairs first, dropping the tent and sleeping bags just inside the apartment door, both of us still sunburned and smelling like creek water and wood smoke. Rhett caught my hand before I could head back down, pulling me in for one more kiss, slow and easy, like he wasn’t quite ready to let the weekend go either.

“Thank you,” he said against my mouth. “For this. For all of it. I had a really nice time.”

“Don’t thank me,” I said, echoing something Cash had told me not too long ago. “Just means you got somebody in your corner who loves makin’ you happy. That’s all.”

He gave me a soft smile, and we headed back down to the diner hand in hand, not even bothering to let go once we hit the sidewalk. It didn’t matter who saw anymore. Not after everything these past couple weeks had taught me about what was important and what had never really mattered at all.

Dolly spotted us the second the bell over the door jingled, and her whole face lit up like Christmas morning. “Hey there boys,” she called out, already grabbing two glasses and filling them with sweet tea before we’d even made it to our booth. “Y’all look like you’ve been livin’ like wild animals out there.”

“Somethin’ like that,” Rhett said, sliding into the booth across from me, a sunburn across his nose that made his freckles stand out even more.

“Sit, sit. I got meatloaf and mashed potatoes tonight, and don’t you dare tell me you ain’t hungry, ‘cause I can hear your stomachs growlin’ from here.” She bustled off toward the kitchen before either of us could answer, humming to herself the way she did when she was happy.

I reached across the table and laced my fingers through Rhett’s, content as I’d ever been in my whole life. The diner was busy that evening, a few families in for supper, a couple of the old ranch hands hunched over coffee at the counter. All that familiar Sunday evening noise swelled around us. I didn’t pay any of it much mind, though. I was too busy watching the way the overhead lights caught gold in Rhett’s hair, and too busy thinking about how easy it would be to spend every single evening for the rest of my life sitting right here across from him.

That’s when the bell over the door jingled again, harder this time. I didn’t think much of it until I heard the voice that came with it, loud enough to cut clean through every other conversation in that diner.

“Westley James Gilderoy.”

I turned in my seat, and there he stood in the doorway, still dressed in his work clothes. His hat was pulled low, clean and pristine as always, his boots shining like they hadn’t seen the Texas mud in years. My daddy. And the look on his face told me right away that whatever this was, it wasn’t going to be good.

My stomach flipped before twisting into a tight knot. Every bit of warmth from the weekend went cold at once, like somebody had dumped that freezing creek water straight down my collar.

“Daddy,” I said, my voice coming out flatter than I meant it to. I felt Rhett’s hand tighten around mine on the table. I didn’t let go. I wasn’t about to let go, not for anything.

My daddy’s eyes dropped to our joined hands, and whatever color was left in his face drained right out of it. “You get your hands off him,” he said, low and dangerous, taking a step further into the diner like he owned the place. “Right now.”

“No, sir.” I kept my grip steady even though my pulse was hammering so hard I could feel it in my ears. “I ain’t doin’ that.”

The whole diner had gone quiet around us, forks stilled halfway to mouths, conversations dying out mid-sentence. I could feel every eye in the place swinging our direction, but I didn’t look away from my daddy’s face. I couldn’t, not with the way his jaw was working like he was chewing on something rotten.

“I heard the rumors,” he said, his voice climbing even though he was trying, I think, to keep it level. “Heard ‘em from more than one person, and I told myself there weren’t no damn way my own son would do somethin’ like this. Not after everything I taught you.” His gaze flicked to Rhett, and something ugly twisted across his face. “But here you sit, holdin’ hands with him right out in public like it’s nothin’ to be ashamed of.”

“There ain’t nothin’ to be ashamed of,” I said, standing up now, because I wasn’t going to sit there and let him loom over me like I was still twelve years old. “I love him, Daddy. Same as I always have. It’s just now I realize how much.”

“Don’t you say that.” His voice cracked up loud enough that Dolly came hustling out of the kitchen, wiping her hands on her apron, her eyes going sharp the second she took in the scene. “Don’t you dare stand there and tell me that boy didn’t do somethin’ to you. Turned you into somethin’ you ain’t.”

Rhett had gone white as a sheet beside me, his hand trembling in mine, and that was what finally snapped something loose inside me.

“He didn’t do anything to me,” I said, my voice rising to match his now. “Rhett didn’t turn me into nothin’. I been this way my whole life, Daddy, whether you wanted to see it or not. He’s just the first person who ever made me brave enough to stop hidin’ it.”

“That’s enough,” my daddy snapped, pointing a finger at Rhett like he was something dangerous. “You stay the hell away from my son. You hear me? You ruined him.”

“James Gilderoy.” Dolly’s voice cut through the diner like a whip crack, sharp enough that even my daddy flinched. She came marching around the counter, apron strings flying, her face set in a look I’d never once seen on her before, not in all the years I’d known her. In her left hand was clutched a butcher’s cleaver, gleaming in the light as she brandished it level with his face. “You will not come into my diner and talk to these boys like that.”