Not really my type, though,” Chanel said.
“You don’t have a type.”
Chanel giggled. Bert had done her best to find someone for Chanel since she’d dumped Jared Walker at the end of their freshman year at Doumit. “I know jocks aren’t my type.” Jared played on the Doumit soccer team. He’d been Chanel’s first long-term boyfriend, her first with everything. Then she walked in on him with an over-highlighted, bottle-tanned sports groupie. Thinking back, Chanel wondered how she’d been so naïve. At the time she’d been blinded by Jared’s good looks and perfect lines convincing her she was the only one, even when all of his buddies had cell phones bursting with willing female phone numbers. Getting laid was just a text away every night. It killed her still, two years later, that she’d just been a notch on his bedpost.
“He’s a jock? I thought only cowboys worked on that place.”
“Me too,” Chanel murmured.
“What’s going on?” There was concern in Bert’s voice.
Chanel sighed. “I know him. Well, I don’t know him, know him, but he’s from Doumit.”
“Uh huh.”
“It’s Maddox Warren,” Chanel said quickly before she changed her mind and hung up on her friend.
“What?” Bert shrieked into the phone causing Chanel to jerk it away from her ear.
“I know, right? You can’t be any more shocked than me.”
“What’s Maddox Warren, football hottie and stud man doing at your ranch?”
“Learning how to drive a tractor.”
“You’re going to have to send me proof. E-mail me a picture or something.”
“Bert, he doesn’t belong here. He got his Miata stuck in a washed out spot in the road. Who drives a Miata into the woods?”
Bert’s cackling laugh rolled through the phone. Chanel sat and waited for her friend to calm down. She knew she was wiping her eyes with the back of her hand, smearing her mascara if she hadn’t removed it yet for the night. Finally, Bert sniffed and said. “Sorry, hon, but when a Miata is all you have…”
“He doesn’t know how to do anything, and he doesn’t want to learn. He’s a conceited prick. Plus, Dad plans on me babysitting him all summer.”
“There are worse things in life than being out in the middle of nowhere with one of the hottest guys in the state. Chanel…”
Chanel braced herself for the words she knew were coming.
“You need to get laid this summer. You’re so uptight, you can’t even see what the universe just dumped in your lap. I say you take him for a ride in that tractor.”
Tingles made their way through Chanel’s body as she remembered tumbling into Maddox’s lap that morning—his smell, his arm muscles bulging below his t-shirt sleeve.
“Chanel? You there?”
“Um, yeah, sorry,” Chanel replied.
“You were thinking about it, weren’t you?”
Chanel gritted her teeth. Sometimes she hated that Bert knew her so well. “You have to work in the morning. I better let you go.”
“Look at you running from the idea. You’re attracted to him. Go with it. I plan to get some this summer too. It’s not a crime.”
Chanel smiled and rolled her eyes. “Good night, Bert.”
“Goodnight. And I’m serious about the picture. See if you can get one with his shirt off.” Chanel ended the call when Bert started cackling again.
***
Maddox heard Chanel’s voice drifting from around the back of the house as he walked up the driveway. He hated having to see her again after their argument that morning, but he needed to send an email to his parents. He was still kicking himself for getting distracted by Lila and forgetting to buy a phone card when Mitch took him to town. Against his better judgment, he skipped knocking on the front door and cut through the yard to the back deck. He found Chanel reclining in a wooden chair, her slippered feet propped up on the porch rail. She looked thoughtful as she gazed out over the horses grazing in the field. The only light on the deck was what streamed from
“You don’t have a type.”
Chanel giggled. Bert had done her best to find someone for Chanel since she’d dumped Jared Walker at the end of their freshman year at Doumit. “I know jocks aren’t my type.” Jared played on the Doumit soccer team. He’d been Chanel’s first long-term boyfriend, her first with everything. Then she walked in on him with an over-highlighted, bottle-tanned sports groupie. Thinking back, Chanel wondered how she’d been so naïve. At the time she’d been blinded by Jared’s good looks and perfect lines convincing her she was the only one, even when all of his buddies had cell phones bursting with willing female phone numbers. Getting laid was just a text away every night. It killed her still, two years later, that she’d just been a notch on his bedpost.
“He’s a jock? I thought only cowboys worked on that place.”
“Me too,” Chanel murmured.
“What’s going on?” There was concern in Bert’s voice.
Chanel sighed. “I know him. Well, I don’t know him, know him, but he’s from Doumit.”
“Uh huh.”
“It’s Maddox Warren,” Chanel said quickly before she changed her mind and hung up on her friend.
“What?” Bert shrieked into the phone causing Chanel to jerk it away from her ear.
“I know, right? You can’t be any more shocked than me.”
“What’s Maddox Warren, football hottie and stud man doing at your ranch?”
“Learning how to drive a tractor.”
“You’re going to have to send me proof. E-mail me a picture or something.”
“Bert, he doesn’t belong here. He got his Miata stuck in a washed out spot in the road. Who drives a Miata into the woods?”
Bert’s cackling laugh rolled through the phone. Chanel sat and waited for her friend to calm down. She knew she was wiping her eyes with the back of her hand, smearing her mascara if she hadn’t removed it yet for the night. Finally, Bert sniffed and said. “Sorry, hon, but when a Miata is all you have…”
“He doesn’t know how to do anything, and he doesn’t want to learn. He’s a conceited prick. Plus, Dad plans on me babysitting him all summer.”
“There are worse things in life than being out in the middle of nowhere with one of the hottest guys in the state. Chanel…”
Chanel braced herself for the words she knew were coming.
“You need to get laid this summer. You’re so uptight, you can’t even see what the universe just dumped in your lap. I say you take him for a ride in that tractor.”
Tingles made their way through Chanel’s body as she remembered tumbling into Maddox’s lap that morning—his smell, his arm muscles bulging below his t-shirt sleeve.
“Chanel? You there?”
“Um, yeah, sorry,” Chanel replied.
“You were thinking about it, weren’t you?”
Chanel gritted her teeth. Sometimes she hated that Bert knew her so well. “You have to work in the morning. I better let you go.”
“Look at you running from the idea. You’re attracted to him. Go with it. I plan to get some this summer too. It’s not a crime.”
Chanel smiled and rolled her eyes. “Good night, Bert.”
“Goodnight. And I’m serious about the picture. See if you can get one with his shirt off.” Chanel ended the call when Bert started cackling again.
***
Maddox heard Chanel’s voice drifting from around the back of the house as he walked up the driveway. He hated having to see her again after their argument that morning, but he needed to send an email to his parents. He was still kicking himself for getting distracted by Lila and forgetting to buy a phone card when Mitch took him to town. Against his better judgment, he skipped knocking on the front door and cut through the yard to the back deck. He found Chanel reclining in a wooden chair, her slippered feet propped up on the porch rail. She looked thoughtful as she gazed out over the horses grazing in the field. The only light on the deck was what streamed from
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