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“I mean, it’s been a while since middle school, but I’ll never forget that feeling. Insides like jelly, hands sweaty. Mrs. Wynberg, scared all us kids straight, you know?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Five minutes ticked by. I reached for my phone twice to doom scroll social media, but I stopped both times. I was on a self-imposed social media diet.
“So, what does one do with eighteen cubic feet of bull semen?”
He chuckled; it was more a shrug of his shoulders than a sound.
“Make baby cows.”
I rolled my eyes. “I’m aware of the birds and the bees, Mr...
“No mister, that’s my dad. Just Atley.” He reached up to tip his hat and stopped, his hand hanging in midair. The hat still rested on his knee.
“I’m Rae; it’s short for Rebecca.” I grabbed his hand before it could fall back to the bench. “Nice to meet you.”
“Ma’am.” He squeezed my hand, and a bolt of heat raced up my arm and down my spine, settling between my thighs. I fought the urge to jerk my hand back and fan my face, my reaction to his touch completely unexpected.
“So how many baby cows can you get from eighteen cubic feet of bull semen?” I tried to sound casual, like bovine reproduction was a common topic of conversation for me. And like I wasn’t thinking about his hands touching me—the rough calluses slipping over my most delicate parts.
He quirked an eyebrow, considering me to see if I was joking. I must have passed inspection because he started to reply but a massive boom of thunder interrupted. The lights in the terminal flickered once, then twice, before humming back to life.
“The transport case only has twenty-five straws in it this trip.”
Our cell phones both chimed, and we reached for them in tandem.
“Ugh, my flight to Austin is delayed.”
“Mine to San Antonio as well. Texas summer storms.”
“That’s what we get for flying through tornado alley.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
I had a question about inseminating 25 cows poised on the tip of my tongue when a happy bark caught my attention.
“Georgie.” I jumped from the bench and retrieved the dog carrier from the baggage agent walking toward me. “Thank you so much.”
I peered inside and his pink tongue licked the bars. I carefully put Georgie down and pulled the woman in for a quick one-armed hug. “You don’t know, but you saved my life today.”
“Just doing my job.” She nodded and stepped aside so the other agent carrying a black case withCaution: Dry Icestickers on the outside could pass by and take the bull semen to Atley.
Another boom of thunder rattled the walls of the airport and set the lights to flickering.
“Thank you again.” I picked Georgie’s carrier up and turned to smile a nice-chatting-with-you goodbye at my gruff cowboy. I’d be keeping his image stored away for the next time I wanted to do some self-care with the shower massager.
Our eyes met and stuck. His were a pale ghostly gray bracketed by a web of fine wrinkles and long lashes. Lust heated my blood and my pulse thrummed loud and insistent in my ears. Why this man? I couldn’t remember the last time I looked at a man and thought about sex. Maybe watching that Magic Mike movie. Matthew hadn’t turned me on like this in way too long to remember. But a few yes ma’ams in that gravelly voice and my panties were as wet as the Rio Grande.
I didn’t move or speak, struck dumb by my reaction. I’d have remained catatonic for hours, even days, if my and Atley’s cell phones hadn’t chirped, breaking our connection.
The message from the airline app informed me they had canceled my flight because of the weather. I’d been rescheduled for the next day.
“They canceled my flight.” I announced the news like the ladies working the desk and Atley would care.
“So, Rae, want to get a drink?” Atley put on his hat, picked up his case of bull semen, and opened the door to the baggage office for me.
Hell yes, I wanted to get a drink.
