Crave by Jordan Sweet

to make that up to you.”
    “Oh yeah,” I reply, “How do you think you are going to go about doing that?”
    “Well, the only way I know how.  I am going to sing for you.”
    “Sing for me.  What do you mean?” I say, shocked.  He hadn’t sung anything on stage with the Greenhorns, just played his harmonica from time to time and on Country Roads, nearly the whole song.
    “Yep, I wrote a song for you and I want to give you the honor of singing it for you.  Just the two of us.  Dinner and drinks, and our own little after-party.  Nothing else.”
    “Well what if I don’t like how you sing?” I say. “Won’t that hurt your feelings?”
    “You’ll like it, and besides, that’s worth the risk- if I can get you back on my side.”  His confidence is back. His grin has widened.  He looks off to the ocean.  As if to give me a minute.
    I see the clean lines of his jaw and his cheeks raise up as he lifts his head toward the sea.  He’s well-tanned and his skin is clean.  Somehow, he isn’t covered in sand the way I am.  It’s like he stepped aside and took a shower before sitting me down in this chair.  I might see him riding a horse on an Old Spice commercial, I think.
    After contemplating his offer, I sit up in my chair and lean toward him.  “Listen,” I say, poking him at the shoulder, “You’re on.” And after pausing for another second, “But, if you stink- that’s it.  We’re through.”
    His eyes light up and his smile gets bigger than I’ve ever seen it.  The whiteness of his teeth shine through and I see top to bottom the most perfect set of teeth I’ve ever seen.
    Miraculously, he lifts up his white cowboy hat and sets it over my head.  It comes down slowly and the brim out in front of my eyes partially blocks my view of him.  I raise a finger to the tip and push it up.  “I’m keeping this hat until you earn it back,” I say.
    “Ha!” he says.  “Ordinarily, nothing gets between a cowboy and his hat.  But, this time… this one time… I guess I could make just one exception.”
    “You got that right.  You owe me, Cowboy.  And I’m owning this hat now.”
    “Well, if that ain’t the dandiest,” he says, shaking his head, perplexed.  “You’re starting to act like a real cowgirl now, Cora.  I’ll be damned.”

CHAPTER 9
     
    I love steak.  And he nailed it.
    Good red wine and steak.  That’s enough to bring me to my knees.  It is so delicious.  He might not have to sing now…
    “So, about this so-called ‘cattle throne’?” I inquire.  “What’s the deal on that?”
    “Well, uh, yeah, what?  Did Crash tell you that?”
    “He might have mentioned it.  It sure sounds like a big deal.”
    “Yeah, it’s really not.  It’s nothing really,” he says, looking off, avoiding eye contact.
    I hit a nerve.  “So really, what’s going on back home?  Why’d you come out here if you have all the cattle, and these fantastic steaks I presume, back in Wyoming?  Not trying to raise cattle here on the coast, are you?”
    “Nah, I don’t know.  It’s just the family business.  I don’t think I want to be a part of it anymore.  It’s been good to me.  Very good to me.  But, you know, sometimes working with your family really isn’t the best thing you can be doing.”
    “I can’t even imagine working with my family.  Jeez, that would be a total train wreck.”
    “Yeah, it’s not as easy as it sounds.  It just sucks because I was doing really well.  Had lots of good ideas about the business and all, but… well anyway.  Maybe someday, but not now.”
    But what? What was that ‘but’ about?  I get the feeling that there is something more going on here.  And I want to know.  He stills owes me because I don’t know if I am going to even like his singing or not.  If I don’t then at least I’ll know something about him.  Something that is real.
    “So… then what about the ‘but’?” I ask.
    He looks at me kind of funny and