His jeans frame his body in a way that hits lower in my stomach than I want to admit. My face heats again. My breath stutters on the inhale.
When I glance up, Clara is staring right at me with a look that says she saw every last bit of that.
I choke on my own saliva at the exact wrong second. A cough rips out of me, loud and messy. Boone jumps in alarm, and Clara bumps into the counter trying to help me.
Tex turns back sharply. “You alright?”
I cough again and manage a nod. “Fine. I’m fine.”
He pauses in the doorway, eyes scanning my face like he wants to be certain. When he seems satisfied I’m not dying, he shifts his stance.
I inhale. Something inside me moves before I can stop it.
“Can I ask you something?” I say.
His mouth quirks. “Sure.”
I glance down at Boone and run my hand along the jagged edge of his missing ear. “What happened to Boone’s ear?”
Tex looks at the dog with a fondness that warms his entire expression. “Three years ago. He got into a fight with a coyote on the ridge behind the west pasture. Your dad helped stitch him up.”
My breath slows. “Oh.”
“Yeah.” His hand drifts to Boone’s head and scratches behind the good ear. “Tough dog.”
Boone presses into the touch with total devotion.
Tex steps back toward the doorway. “Alright. I’ll let you get ready.”
He lifts two fingers in a small wave, then turns. His boots fade down the steps. The screen door squeaks, then closes with a soft click.
His truck rumbles to life outside, a deep engine growl that rolls through the house for a few seconds until it fades down the road.
The silence left behind pins me in place.
I don’t move. I don’t breathe. My body feels suspended between adrenaline and something warm enough to make my pulse thrum hard in my neck.
Clara drops her heel onto the floor with a thud. “Wow,” she groans.
I swallow around the dryness in my throat. I have no words. My chest feels off kilter. My pulse bumps too fast.
Clara grabs a granola bar off the counter and sets it down again because her hands are shaking with leftover adrenaline and amusement.
I pull in a breath and realize I’m still rooted to the exact spot where Tex hugged me. My skin hasn’t forgotten the feel of his chest.
My body hasn’t forgotten the scent. Something inside me digs up memories I thought I cemented over.
I straighten slowly. Clara watches me with narrowed eyes and a smug tilt to her mouth.
This house keeps giving me pieces of the life I buried. One of the Carson brothers walking through that door was the biggest piece yet. And I am nowhere near as prepared for it as I told myself I was.
The clock on the stove reads 10:11.
We still have nineteen minutes before we meet Elvis, but everything inside me feels different now.
Like the past has rewritten the air.
Like something unresolved just stepped back into the room and knows exactly where to find me.
