Chapter Eleven
Krystina
A painless memory? Who was I kidding? No memory of Gentry was painless. It was just a reminder that he – that we – were so far apart.
It felt like forever, not just two days, since I came face to face with him at the airport. I told myself I needed was civility and quick as I could I would look for my new home. And now I felt lost not having Gentry as, at the very least, the friend he used to be. Knowing he was here, and knowing that I had at minimum of six days worth of ranch wear, meant I didn’t know how to drag myself away again.
And now the fire fighter costume? Was I out of my ever-loving mind? I doubted he would wear it. Twenty-nine-year-old Gentry was a lot less go with the flow than sixteen-year-old Gentry. I was also trying really hard not to acknowledge him in nothing but a towel. Really, really hard.
I picked up my gold clutch and faux fur shawl and looked around for Ed. I found a note on the refrigerator door.
Left to get Carla. Gentry give Krys a ride, see you there.
Well, shit. Maybe one of the other boys could be a bumper between us. I’m not sure how far the Morris’ palace was but I didn’t want to be alone with Gentry. It especially didn’t look good showing up with the hostess boyfriend.
I heard boots on the stairs and turned to see a fire fighter come down. I squealed unintentionally and excitedly.
“Be lucky I’m cool enough to pull this off,” he told me with a grin and glanced at the note.
“Looks like you’re riding with me.”
***
I had offered to get a ride with one of the hands but Gentry ushered me to his truck anyhow. I twiddled my thumbs and chewed on my lower lip.
“You’re going to eat off all that expensive lip shit,” Gentry stated, glancing over at me.
“Sorry, nervous thing,” I said by way of explanation.
“I remember.”
“Oh,” I dug in my clutch for my lip stick and checked my teeth in the rear view mirror.
“What are you nervous about?”
“I don’t know. I haven’t had the habit in years. As it turns out very little made me nervous out East. I want to make a good impression here.”
“You didn’t want to make one in New York?”
“I found out fast there wasn’t anyone worth impressing really.”
“And you think we are?”
I smiled back at him and changed the conversation. “How long have you been with Brittany Morris?”
“I’m not with her.”
“Okay, how long have you been doing Brittany Morris?”
Gentry gave me his signature sigh of exasperation and turned right off the highway. “Four or five month, on and off.”
“She thinks it’s more.”
“I know.”
“What are you going to do about it?”
“I don’t know Krystina. Why the hell do you care?” he yelled frustrated. He had yelled at me a lot in the last forty-eight hours so I didn’t even flinch.
“Three reasons. Number one, she seems like a nice girl who God only knows why, likes you. She doesn’t need any unnecessary pain, no one does. Two, whether you believe me I do care about you and would love to see you happy someday.”
Gentry parked the truck along a gravel driveway in front of a big stone house and a bigger stable all overly decorated. Rosethorn.
I jumped out of the truck best I could in heels.
“That’s only two,” he called over to me before I could slam the door.
“Three, it appears, for the most part, that you have little desire to talk to me but seem to enjoy yelling. And I, stupidly, prefer yelling over silence.”
Gentry jumped out of the truck and put his fire helmet on then offered me his arm. “Shall we Ms. DeLouch?”
“We shall,” I said taking it and pulling my shawl tight around me.
“There, was that pleasant enough?”
I half shoved him. “Gentry Edwin Hollis, you sir are an ass.”
“But a heroic ass.”
“I hate you,” I laughed.