Page 4 of Big Gruff Cowboy

My girl’s favorite flowers are red Gerbera daisies. It’s something I learned from looking at her online profiles.

“These aren’t for you,” I say at the same time someone gasps my name. My gaze goes past Walt straight to Lizzy. How is it that she’s gotten even prettier in the day since I last saw her?

Lizzy is wearing a lacy white sleeveless shirt that’s tucked into a long, flowing sky blue skirt that goes down to her ankles. The cowgirl boots underneath give me all sorts of wicked fantasies. Forget a woman in heels. I want to fuck my woman when she’s wearing cowgirl boots.

“What are you doing here?” Lizzy hisses, interrupting my X-rated fantasies.

“You and I are going to have a little talk later,” Walt grunts at me before he turns away, leaving me and Lizzy alone.

She steps onto the porch, pulling on a white cardigan over the sleeveless shirt while she clutches an oversized canvas tote. She tugs the front door closed behind herself. “Why are you here?”

I hold up the books, wrapped in brown packaging and tied with twine. “I have a gift for you.”

Chapter 3

Lizzy

Istep into the early evening air, pulling my cardigan around me. Without hair, it’s harder for me to stay warm. I resist the urge to pat my wig and instead pat my bag which has all of my supplies inside to fix any wig emergency that might happen.

“Why are you here?” I ask Noah. My heart skipped a beat when I saw him on the front porch holding my favorite flowers. I remind myself that’s a crazy reaction to a crazy man.

He holds up a rectangle of brown paper packaging in his other hand. I don’t have a clue what could be inside. His next words surprise me. “I have a gift for you.”

I blink at him. I’m not touched by this gesture. I’m not even a little bit curious about what it could be. “Showing up where I live is stalking.”

He doesn’t look bothered by the accusation at all. He gestures over his shoulder with his thumb toward the house where Walt is peeking out through the blinds in the living room window. “I was invited.”

I didn’t tell my grandfather what happened yesterday when I met Noah at the bookstore. I’m not sure how he would react. He seems protective of me, but I’m still feeling my way through our relationship.

I put my hands on my hips and do my best to scowl at the handsome cowboy. “You’re a weirdo, you know that, right?”

He’s still holding out the package to me wordlessly. Whatever is inside, he wants me to see it. I finally relent and take the package from him.

I’ve rarely gotten gifts. I don’t know what Noah could be giving me. We barely know each other.

A little gasp comes from my mouth when I see the leather-bound set. With trembling fingers, I flick open the cover and scan the first page. As I suspected, this is a three-volume collection of Pride and Prejudice.

My gaze fills with tears as I think of years of birthdays uncelebrated. Of a little girl trying to convince herself that her mom was lying. She was special enough for a birthday. One day, she’d have one. She’d have a big party to celebrate with a hundred friends who liked her and thought she was pretty. Stupid, foolish kid.

“I can’t accept this,” I say, swallowing the lump in my throat. I try to hand the books back to him, but Noah won’t accept them.

“Take the books. You’ll be getting lots of gifts from me.”

I shouldn’t accept it. I know the man is nuts with a capital N. But I still find myself clutching the musty volumes close to my chest.

Something lights in his gaze when I accept the books, like it makes him happy to see me with them.

“That’s only part of the gift,” he says and offers me the bouquet of red Gerbera daisies.

I shake my head, unable to fathom that there could be more. I’m nobody. Why does he even care about making me happy? “It’s OK. I have to go anyway.”

As if the universe is confirming my good sense to get out of here, a car horn honks. I turn to see Dotty’s little red car, the one she affectionately calls “rust bucket”, at the end of the driveway. She sticks her arm out of the driver’s side window and waves me forward. Her car doesn’t have a reverse or…like to start, so she’s idling as she waits for me.

I tuck the books carefully into the bag, trying not to let him see how much this means to me. I learned a long time ago not to get attached to things or people. I never get to have either for very long. “I’ll see you around.”

“Wait, Lizzy.” He reaches out and puts a hand on my cardigan-clad arm. Even through the soft, worn fabric, I still feel his touch. I feel it everywhere. “Where are you going?”

I frown. I’m not used to having anyone ask where I am. As it is, I’m barely getting used to checking in with Walt. “Just out with the girls.”

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