TEXAS TRUE

Rain spattered on the gas grill and filled
the rim of the propane tank,
and their clothes began to plaster to their skin.

“This rain reminds me of that day at Roto Creek,” she continued. “It was drizzling like this but it was colder. My suitcase was soaked and ruined and all the cash I had – I counted two hundred and thirty five dollars, it was what I’d saved for us, tips from my waitress job.” The rain pelted down harder and she blinked from drops hitting her eyes.  “But you didn’t come. I waited until three. ‘Til four. I waited for you until my shoes wedged in the mud and I couldn’t move. You still didn’t come.” Her voice rose with anger. “That’s the choice you made, Cooper. One I had to live with. So yes, I married Harlow.”

The white ridge of his teeth flashed in the moonlight. “So good ole Harlow got the honeymoon suite with the heart-shaped bed. You think of me, when you were with him?”

“That damn ego —” She bit off the angry words. What good would calling him names get her? She’d loved him. Loved him more than anyone, and he’d thrown them away. “I’m going in.”

Damp denim legs and boots blocked her bare feet. “Go on. Say it. It’s my fault, you and me.”

“We’re too hot and cold, Cooper. Harlow and I never argued like this. He was easygoing and—”

“Pussy-whipped.”

She hissed in a breath.

“You make him wash his hands before you let him touch you?” His hand curled around her left forearm. The more she pulled away, the harder he gripped, drawing her closer to his muscled body. His gaze took in her rising and falling breasts. “I know,” he whispered. “You’re wearing that little nightie to show me what I’m missing.”

“I’m not showing you anything.”

“Oh, baby, I think you are.”