Page 4 of Nixon’s Promise

The dog once again obeyed his mistress, tongue lolling and tail sweeping the dirt behind him.

“I believe these belong to you.” Nix found his voice but just barely.

McKenna’s long, thick brown hair was pulled back and hidden under a ratty baseball cap, grease was smeared on her gray tank top that showcased her perfect tits, more dirt and grease were smudged down the front of her supremely faded jeans.

Yeah, it had been a marvel Nixon hadn’t swallowed his tongue. She was his wet dream come to life.

“Dammit, I’m going to kill Zack for leaving the gate open again.”

Zack.

There was that name again. She had a man, of course she did. A woman like McKenna would have her pick. He was positive every single man had lined up in her yard when she hit the town limits.

“Where do you want her?”

“I’m sorry, Nixon.” She wiped her hands on her thighs and he tried not to follow the movement.

He failed.

“Zack!” she bellowed.

That pulled him out of his fantasy about what her legs would look like bare. Nothing like a wet blanket to douse a daydream than hearing another man’s name coming from the mouth of the woman you were thinking about naked.

Whoever this Zack guy was, he was one lucky son of a bitch.

Not that Nixon wanted a woman. But if he had, McKenna checked all his boxes.

3

I was going to strangle my brother.

Nixon looked pissed, Sally and Goat had wondered over to his property and I couldn’t blame him. First, it was just downright rude to allow your animals to roam, and second, Sally was a pain in the ass.

“Yeah?” Zack ambled out of the house in the only way he could—lazy teenage boy was the best description. Punk teenage boy was more accurate.

“You left the gate open. Again. Sally and Goat got out and Mr. Swagger had to—”

“Nixon.”

“Huh?” I turned from Zack to Nixon.

“Just Nixon or Nix.”

“Nixon had to bring her home.”

“How’d you catch her?” Zack asked. “It takes me like an hour.” He looked more impressed than remorseful.

This was true, but not the point.

“Show me where you want her.” Nixon ignored Zack’s question, tugged on the makeshift halter he had around Sally’s neck, and started toward the barn. He stopped only to give Duke a head scratch and to wait for Zack’s lead, then he was on the move again.

I watched Nixon follow Zack to the barn, then turned back to my truck when I lost sight of them.

It was good to know I hadn’t imagined how well Nix wore a pair of jeans and shit kicker boots. I also hadn’t exaggerated when I remembered how good looking he was. Not even a little bit. The man was lethal. And if the rumors were to be believed, that wasn’t an exaggeration either.

The two of them were gone long enough that I was already elbow-deep into the Ford, when Nixon came back into view. Up close and personal, he was leaning his forearms on the quarter panel looking into the engine compartment.

“Serpentine belt,” I said by way of explanation.