“No,” gasped Tristan. “We’re, uh, fine.”
“Would you like a glass of wine? It’s a Chardonnay, but if you’d prefer something else—”
“No, that’s fine.” Why did she keep saying everything was fine? “It’s perfect, thank you.” Tristan held her glass out for Piper to pour.
“Sir, would you like some wine?”
“I’ll have whatever the lady is having,” he answered.
Tristan could feel his gaze on her. She doubted he’d even looked at Piper.
“Enjoy your first course. Pear and goat cheese on crostini with fig confit, in case you were wondering.”
“Mmm,” Bullet moaned. “It sounds amazing. Thank you, Piper.”
He was using that tone of voice again, the one she’d heard him use with the filly. When Bullet talked that way, women seemed to melt around him. Tristan didn’t miss the way Piper’s cheeks turned pink the same way hers had.
Bullet lifted his crostini to her lips. “Take a bite.”
“Don’t you want it?”
“Sure, I do. We’re gonna share.”
Tristan took a bite. Bullet popped the other half in his mouth. “Your turn,” he said.
She lifted her crostini to his lips, and instead of taking a small bite as she had, he took the whole thing, his mouth catching her fingers as he did.
“Hey, that isn’t fair.”
“I take what I want, Tristan. That’s meant as a warning.” His deep voice reverberated through her. Her breath quickened as he continued to trail a finger softly down the length of her arm. When he reached her hand, he clasped it and brought it to his mouth. He licked each finger where she’d held the crostini. “I don’t know which tastes better. I think it’s you,” he murmured. “And I want more. A lot more.”
1968
Bill sat at the table and waited for Clancy to continue. Instead of talking, Clancy stood, went to the refrigerator, and took out a beer. “Want one?”
Bill didn’t drink often, but cowboys didn’t pay much attention to him bein’ underage. This was the first time Clancy had offered him one at home, though.
“Sure.” He tried to sound nonchalant, while inside, he wanted to scream at Clancy to tell him what was going on with his mama. Maybe that’s why he offered him a beer, to calm him down some.
“You remember the first time we met Russ, right?”
Bill nodded.
“Neither of us had a good feeling about that man. And we were right.”
“What did he do to her?” Bill felt as though the top of his head was going to blow off. His anger had reached a boiling point. If that man had laid a hand on his mama, he’d kill him.
“It isn’t what you’re thinkin’. What he did brought more trouble on himself than it did on your mama and sister.”
“Just tell me, for Christ’s sake.” Bill stood and paced the kitchen floor.
“The first time I was called down there, was because Russ ended up in jail, and your mama asked me to come and bail him out. She didn’t have the money to do it.”
“What was he in for?”
“He got into it with some fellas he was playing cards with. That’s the root of the problem right there. Russ Snyder is a gambler.”
“You get arrested for that?”