My heart is still thumping when heavy footsteps sound on the wraparound porch. I have no doubt about whose they are. Unfortunately, I’d know the cadence of his walk anywhere.
Great. First time he sees me in five years—I’m dripping sweat, covered in dirt, and probably stink. I pull open the door and step outside before he can knock.
As he saunters my way, I stand straighter, holding my chin a bit higher. I tuck the hair that’s escaped my loose bun behind my ear and stuff my hands into the front pockets of my cut-offs to hide their trembling.
I glare at his too-gorgeous face—a strong jaw, covered with the perfect amount of stubble, and a nose that’s slightly crooked from the fight he got into with Lonnie Fisher the summer before his junior year. His raven black hair ruffles in the breeze.
Buck stops five feet from me. His turquoise gaze runs from my tits to my toes and back.
One black eyebrow quirks. “Loula Mae.”
I cock my head and narrow my eyes. “You know I hate that name.”
“I’ve always liked it—it suits you.”
His grin might be charming if I didn’t know the damage it precedes.
I clench my teeth.
He’s got to go. Chatting it up with Buck can only lead to problems, and I’ve got way too much to worry about without inviting that shit into my life right now. Hell, not only now—ever.
I prop my fists at my waist. “So, you looking for a suck or a fuck?”
For the tiniest moment his eyes widen and flash with emotion—surprise? Pain, maybe?
Then, with the slightest shake of his head, he grins. “Wow. I guess the military issued a foul mouth right along with your dog tags. But, since you’re offering—lips or pussy, don't matter to me.”
I fumble for the door handle behind me. “Let me break it down for you. You ain't gettin' either from me. So, carry your ass back to your place or to the whore house over in Slidell. Shit, for all I care, you can trot out to the barn and visit with Aunt Delores's heifer. But whatever you do, don't come sniffing around here.”
His grin grows into a full-blown smile, and his eyes crinkle at the corners, a light coming into them as though he welcomes the challenge.
I slip inside, white-knuckling the handle as I shut the door in his face. I wilt against the doorframe. It’s best for him not to know how he affects me. I won’t give him that power again. The last time I did, he used it to twist me into an emotional pretzel.
“What’s wrong, Baby Girl?” Aunt Delores’s dry voice cracks behind me.
Closing my eyes, I pull up my shoulders and wipe the disgust from my face.
“Morning. Sorry if I woke you.”
She shakes her head, waving me off. “No. I was lying there putting off getting up to pee.”
Aunt Delores pours a cup of coffee while I wash up. She moves to the window that overlooks the divide between her property and the Buckners’, taking a long sip from her mug.
“Looks like Selma and Frank have company.”
I shrug, chest still tight. “Buck’s home.”
She tugs at the back of her turban. “Oh, that’s right. Selma was saying something about that yesterday.”
“Thanks for the warning. Why didn’t you tell me?”
A little glint comes into her eye as her fingers fiddle with her mother’s pendant. “Well, you’d have scooted right back to California to avoid him, and I don’t want you to leave. I’ve missed my girl.”
The veins on the backs of her hands, along with her papery, wrinkled skin, remind me she’s seventy-four years old. My heart constricts as I think of the way time slips by, quietly stealing the moments we have with those we love.
After Uncle Manny’s unexpected death last February, the finite length of time I have left with Aunt Delores hit me like a wrecking ball. She’s the last of the people who truly love me. When she’s gone, I’ll be alone.
I wrap my arm around her shoulder. “I’m not leaving. I came to help. And that’s what I’m going to do, regardless of whether that jackass is next door or partying it up in his Hollywood mansion.”
She pats my cheek, a sparkle in her eye. “There you go, Darlin’. That Buck’s a handful for another day.”
A handful. Or two.
Or five.
TWO
The window draws me to it. Even though I shouldn’t, I want to catch another glimpse of Buck.
I should keep busy, especially if I want to keep my mind off him. Even though Buck’s lived just hours up the road from me for the past few years, right now he’s minutes away and only a few yards lay between us.
Well, that’s not strictly true. Way more than physical distance separates us. Time. Emotional baggage. Water under the bridge that rose up and washed the fucking road away.