Chapter 8

There wasn’t much talk in the truck on the way back to the ranch, as both people examined the world they found themselves in.

Mandy blamed it on the rabbit, but then decided she was tired of fighting. Or maybe resisting was the better word. Bob was obviously interested in her and, suddenly, the objections she’d had toward returning that interest just seemed tiresome. Not that she planned on jumping into anything with both feet. She decided the breaking point had come when he hinted she might be ready to leave the ranch and return to her other life. She was not. She couldn’t explain why she wasn’t ready, but she knew that was the case. She also knew it wasn’t the ranch or the work keeping her there, either. Discounting Jasper and Lucy ... that left Bob.

As for the man she was thinking about, his mind was still in turmoil, too. That kiss had been both a surprise and electric. He knew she was teasing the other patrons in the restaurant, but her willingness to tease them by doing that communicated something he wanted to believe. That was that he wasn’t as far away from some kind of resolution as he’d thought.

Like her, he didn’t expect things to accelerate quickly, but suddenly he wanted for there to at least be a chance for progress.

“They will,” he said, suddenly.

“Who will?”

“All those people. They’ll talk about that kiss.”

“Good,” said Mandy. “Bunch of nosy Nancies.”

“Look at it from their perspective,” said Bob. “Here I am, born and raised here. Had this or that to do with a string of also local women, but nothing ever stuck to the wall. Then, out of nowhere, you appear. Nobody knows who you are or where you came from. You’re drop dead gorgeous, even after a day of herding cows. You’re half my age. But you’re also strong, no shrinking violet, as was observed by how you handled that trucker and Connie. It will be the talk of the town for weeks.”

“Let ‘em talk,” said Mandy.

“So can I expect you to stun them again, next time we’re in public together?”

“I would never have believed you’d beg, Bob,” she said, but smiled to show she was teasing.

“Yeah, right, like I’d ever have to beg,” he said, playing the part of the perennial overconfident male. “A guy just needs to know these things so he can plan. You took me by surprise back there and I might have been more convincing if I’d have known what you were going to do.”

“Yeah, right,” laughed Mandy. “You just want to know if I’ll ever kiss you again.”

“Okay, I guess I do,” he said, sighing theatrically.

“Maybe,” she said, coquettishly.

“Can I ask you a question?” he inquired.

“Sure. Shoot.”

“Are you possibly bipolar, too?”

It surprised her and that was clear.

“No. Why would you ask me that?”

“I seem to remember most of our conversations about ... um ... relationships ... being kind of unhappy.”

“Your memory is correct.”

“Half an hour ago you kissed me in public.”

“Now your memory is faulty. It was only twenty minutes ago,” she said.

“And now you’re teasing me. Care to explain?”

“I’m tired,” said Mandy.

Bob looked disgusted.

“Not of you, or because of how we spent the day. I’m tired of having to meet other people’s expectations, tired of resisting how I feel because I’m worried about what other people will think. I’m tired of not trusting men. I’m tired of being bad at finding a man.”

“I thought that’s what you were resting up from,” said Bob.

“It was supposed to be,” she said. “The last thing I need to do now is get involved in another relationship. I know that. And I hope this doesn’t hurt your feelings but the last man I need to get involved with is you. That’s how I felt when I came here. But when I gave up thinking about other men, the only one around was you. I tried not thinking about you, but of course you make that impossible. I’m tired of worrying about how I should feel. I just want to be free.”

“Why would you think about me?” he asked.

She shot him a look.

“Don’t fish for compliments. Most of it was negative, buster. But it’s hard to ignore a man who keeps talking about how beautiful you are - and means it - but who never makes a move on you. And then you remind yourself that he’s old, and a beast, and a slave driver, but then he does something that makes you like him. And then, of course, there’s the part where you spy on him and watch him get a humdinger of a blowjob from a pretty, young thing and hear them talk about how he feels about you. You make it impossible not to think about you, Bob.”

“Sorry,” he said.

“No you’re not,” she said, firmly. “You love being you and that’s part of the allure. You’re a man, all man and, ugly or not, it doesn’t surprise me that Constance still holds that grudge.”

“I’m not that ugly,” he whined, in mock unhappiness.

“If it weren’t for that horse cock you carry around in your pants, I doubt any woman would look at you twice,” she said.

“Careful, the romance is starting to get to me,” he said. But he was smiling.

“That’s the problem,” she groused. “It’s starting to get to me, too.”

Once back at the ranch Mandy said she was going to soak in the tub.

“So much for another massage,” he sighed, theatrically.

“Who says I won’t want one after my bath?” she asked, arching an eyebrow.

He became sober.

“Look. I know your life has been in turmoil. I get that. Mine has been too, ever since I met you. But let’s not fly off the handle just because our wires are too tight. The banter is fun, and I can’t really communicate how happy I am you don’t actually hate me, but if we start ... uh ... becoming better friends ... this could spin out of control, at least for me.”

“You’re right,” she said. “It could. But I’m tired of the tension. Like the tension of the embarrassment I felt when you and the UPS man had that casual conversation about what I’d ordered in the mail. But then, last night, I had more orgasms in two hours than I’ve had in the last two years and I slept like a baby. Now here I am, all tensed up again. I’m sure there’s only a limited supply of batteries, Bob.” She blinked. “Wait. That came out wrong. I guess what I’m saying is I don’t know what I want. I don’t even know what I’m supposed to want anymore. All I know is I’m tired of trying and failing. I like you and I trust you. The only problem is that I’ve liked and trusted other men and that didn’t work out so great. So I don’t know what to do. I want somebody else to make the decisions for a while. Right now you’re the only other person in my life. How bad could it be if I just put myself in your hands?”

“In that case, you’d be fucked,” said Bob, gravely.

She was astonished.

“I can’t believe you said that!”

“That didn’t come out like I intended, either,” he said. “Maybe we both need a hot soak and to take some time off.”

“I don’t think the tub’s big enough for two,” said Mandy.

“That’s exactly the kind of thing that just kills me,” he groaned.

“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to tease you ... it just sort of happens.”

“Go take your bath,” he said. “I may take a dip in the stock tank.”

“But the water in that is freezing,” she objected.

“Precisely,” he said, with a wan smile.

Two hours later Mandy finished blow-drying her hair. All she did was comb it out. She was wearing a robe and felt lethargic. There were still some aches and pains, but they were more on the annoying side of things than the ‘I-need-help-right-now!’ category. She thought about just going to bed, but it was still too early. She’d been sleeping so well that getting up at the crack of dawn didn’t bother her anymore.

She’d lain in the tub thinking about her life. That involved thinking about Bob Cobb. Her mind still refused to settle on how she felt about him. All that was clear was that his status as a man had changed. When she’d first gotten in the car with him he had not been a candidate for having any kind of relationship with other than as a stranger who took her in so she could heal. She hadn’t thought about the fact that if she was around him all the time, things would obviously change. She wasn’t even sure when they had changed. It was obvious, though, that they had.

That didn’t mean he was now in the category of men she might want to have an extended relationship with. One part of her insisted she would eventually leave and, quite probably, never see him again. Another part of her, however, said, “You don’t want to leave yet and you know that.” The first part of her warned, “If you stay, things will change even more!” and the other side argued, “Exactly! Don’t you want to find out what that’s like?”

She’d been having those thoughts long enough for the water in the tub to cool when she snorted and said, out loud to no one, “This is exactly what you told him you were tired of doing!” She got out, dried her hair, and now she was trying to figure out what to do until it was bedtime. She was trying hard not to concentrate on what she’d do when she actually got to bed. She knew that. She planned on reducing the charge in her borrowed batteries. What she didn’t think about was figuring out just why in the world she was so horny.

As she went to the kitchen to get something to drink she saw Bob, sitting in what he called his reading chair, in the living room. He was, in fact, reading, dressed in a T shirt and running shorts. She stopped, letting her eyes take in his bare legs. They were muscled and ... hairy. Like a beast. His forearms matched his legs, thick and strong looking. He was a strapping, healthy man. She smiled as his reading glasses, perched on the tip of his nose, tried to spoil the effect, but couldn’t. It occurred to her she didn’t actually know how old he was. There had been all that talk about him being “twice her age”, but that would make him over fifty and he didn’t look that old. Even if he was, in this day and age he could still have thirty good years left before his body gave up and withered.

As if he felt her eyes on him, he looked away from the book and over at her.

“Better?” he asked, quietly.

“Some,” she said. She realized her response was because she felt unsettled. She decided not to worry about why she was unsettled. “You?”

“It was, in fact, cold,” he said.

“You actually did that?” she asked, laughing.

“The people tub was full of pretty girl,” he said.

“Aww, you say the sweetest things,” she replied. “So you actually took what passes for a cold shower?”

“That was, after all, the point of the exercise.”

“Now I feel bad,” she said.

“Don’t. It’s not your fault. Blame your mother and father.”

“My parents? Why?”

“They contributed the genes that produced you,” he said.

Mandy decided the banter was fun. Bob flirted in a completely different way than any of the men she’d met before this. Younger men tended to vote with their bodies, wanting to move things forward quickly and physically. They wanted her and usually took steps to try to get her. What made Bob different was that, while he didn’t try to hide his physical attraction to her, he didn’t push it. He just appreciated her. It was something foreign to her previous experience.

“Be right back,” she said. “You want anything?”

“Desperately,” he said, his face straight.

“To drink, you beast,” she said, smiling.

“I’m good.”

“That remains to be seen,” she said, proving she could flirt, too.

She made a cup of hot chocolate and returned to the living room to find him engrossed in his book again. She sat in the companion chair to his and tucked her feet under her. The robe parted to expose one knee and lower leg. She left it that way, not to tease him, but because it didn’t feel uncomfortable.

“Do you want me to leave you alone so you can read?” she asked.

He glanced up.

“What else did you have in mind?”

“I thought we could talk some more.”

“Women like to talk,” he said. “That is not an indictment, by the way.”

“It’s funny you said that. I was just thinking about one of the differences between you and other men I’ve known before this,” she said.

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The City Girl Blues

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