Page 53 of Texas Kissing

He kissed me back, long and hard enough to convince me it was.

I looked at him and, for the first time in years, I truly smiled. I was happy—shell-shocked at what I’d just done, but happy. And at least some of it was because I wasallowingmyself to be happy.

I hadn’t realized, until he’d made me admit it, just how much guilt I’d been carrying. I’d thought I’d been hiding myself away out of fear of getting someone elsehurt, but at least some of it had been to punish myself.

Maybe, just maybe, this could work. I had to try, or I was going to die in that bus all on my own. And this town fair was the perfect place to start. A nice, normal thing for a newly-country girl and her boyfriend to do together. I was already looking forward to it.

41

Bull

“What time isthe greased pig-catching?” Lily asked.

“Two-thirty,” I said with authority.

“I still think you’re kidding.”

I pulled her closer. “I ain’t kidding. There’s greased pig catching every year.”

I’d been going to the fair since I was a kid and it was one of my favorite places on earth. Everything was big: hulking bulls and fine, glossy-coated horses competing to be the best animal in their classes. Giant pumpkins and squashes, nursed and nourished for months as carefully as any baby. And everywhere there was food. My stomach rumbled. Cotton candy, turkey legs and corn dogs, popcorn and ice cream. And most of it was fried. And on a stick.

But none of it could distract me from Lily. I walked arm-in-arm with her, proud as a kid with his prom date. She looked amazing. When I’d gone over to the bus to pick her up, she’d stuck her head out of the door and tentatively shown me her dress—white, with black polka dots, cut tight on the waist and with a longskirt the wind kept catching, licking it upwards to show glimpses of her bare legs. I’d whipped off my hat and told her that she was the prettiest darned thing I’d ever seen.

She’d thought I was kidding.

The local girls had gotten dressed up, too, whether in little strappy tops and shorts or full-on dresses like Lily’s. Girls I’d lusted after and sometimes fucked—sometimes more than once. Any other year, I would have been swaggering around and showing off for them. Now, though...I was having trouble remembering what I’d ever seen in them. They just seemed so plastic, next to Lily.

Sometimes, they’d start to flounce towards me, either not noticing Lily or studiously ignoring her presence. Then I’d grip Lily a touch more firmly around the waist, and she’d pull me closer, and sometimes we’d kiss, and I’d feel the girl skid to a halt, staring at us, and then turn and march off the other way, her nose in the air.

“I guess it all seems kinda silly to you,” I said. We were strolling past a tiny stage, where a country band was belting out a song, the audience lounging on hay bales. “Ain’t exactly New York. Not a whole lot of bling, or Krystal, or dot-com billionaires.”

“I’m pretty sure that’sWestcoast,” said Lily.

“Okay—not a whole lot of cocktails and canapés, then.”

She patted my arm. “You have a very weird view of New York.”

“Maybe we should go visit, sometime. You could show me around.”

She nodded and smiled, but I saw the momentary panic in her eyes. It popped up whenever I mentionedNew York, or her past. “Mmm-hmm,” she said, noncommittally. “Hey, that looks like fun.”

I followed her pointing finger and groaned inwardly. She was pointing to the Ferris wheel.

I have a thing about heights. You want me in an arena with a pissed-off bull? I’ll tip my hat and go to work. Got five or six liquored-up cowboys trying to cop a feel of the barmaid? I’ll wade in there and knock seven shades of hell out of them. But heights?

The thing with Texas is, it’s mighty flat. If I grew up in mountain country, I’m sure I’d be climbing like a damn lizard.

“Sure,” I said, giving her my best smile. ‘Why not?”

42

Lily

Oh Christ, Lily, why did you say that?

I hate heights. I have a thing about it. Even indoors, in a tall building, if there are floor-to-ceiling windows I have to stand like ten feet back from the glass. I’d just been trying to get us off the subject of New York. I’d pretty much just stuck my arm out at random and said, “Hey, that looks like fun.”I was lucky I hadn’t pointed at the burrito eating contest.

But anything was better than talking about my past. So I grabbed Bull’s hand and damn nearskippedtowards the line for the Ferris wheel. “I don’t, you know,” I told him as we approached.

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