Page 5 of Fall Over You

“Your wolf is friendly?”

My daughter’s laughter tinkles through the crisp fall air. “Daddy, she’s a librarian husky!”

“Siberian,” Becca corrects with her little smoker’s laugh. Whether that comes from her regularly scheduled hootin’ and hollerin’ or still smoking a pack or twelve a day, I don’t know.

“What kind of Russian wolf are you subjecting my child to?”

The wolf-dog barks at Ellie, then flops onto its back and wollers around on the ground. If I weren’t so pissed, I’d say it’s cute.

But I am that pissed, so it’s not cute.

“Yeah. She’s super ferocious,” Becca says, pursing her lips and crossing her arms. She puts a little amusement in her raspy voice. “Good to see you, Tyler.”

I wish her voice didn’t feel like nails digging into my back and scratching down my spine, a unique blend of pleasure and pain. I know all too well the pleasure Becca can bring, and the pain she leaves in her path of destruction.

I scoff. “Wish I could say the same.”

Ellie giggles again and bear hugs that damn dog. Becca gives me one last entertained look before crouching down to Ellie’s level. “T-Bone’s favorite ball is over there. If you throw it for her, she’s real good at playing fetch.”

Ellie skips off and I’m left standing here with some shadow of who I used to be, wondering why the hell she’s being nice to my child.

And it doesn’t even seem fake.

FOUR

BECCA

My lips curl into a smirk. Now I know why Ellie looks so familiar.

Her mama was my best friend, and her daddy put in enough time at my mamaw’s house growing up that he was practically a wart growing on my ass.

Tyler is my brother Dustin’s best friend, the one who was always just there. There when I needed him, there when I didn’t. Teasing me about my bold clothing choices. Peeking through the crack in my door while I was putting on my makeup, sitting on the floor in front of my mirror and singing along to country radio. Later, I’d hear him humming whatever song I’d been listening to, and it would make me feel like I was the cat with every single canary in my mouth. What girl doesn’t have some sort of crush on her older brother’s best friend?

And on a couple of rare occasions when we got older, there was a flash that maybe Tyler and I would be something more. Maybe it wasn’t just a school girl’s crush and he felt something for me too. He always showed up if I needed him, always seemed to appear when I could use someone to catch my fall. I did a lot of falling in those days, testing every limit of what I could get away with. Sometimes because I asked him to be. Other times, he was just there.

But one day, he decided all those nice moments meant nothing and in fact I was the source of his every woe. To some degree, I get it. CJ left him, and she had been my best friend before everything fell apart. God only knows what she told him.

It hurts that he’d believe her over me, though.

Now, I saunter closer to where Tyler watches Ellie throw a ball for my beloved doggie.

“Well, well, well. Of all the chicken farms in the world,” I say, touching my tongue to my teeth.

Tyler looks like the act of hearing my voice made him develop acid reflux. His thumb rubs the inside of his middle finger, a tic I know all too well.

“Can I help you to a smoke?” I offer.

“I don’t do that anymore,” he grits out. “And I expect you to have the decency not to smoke in front of my daughter.”

I snap my fingers and stomp my foot. “Oh, damn, should I have not given her that Marlboro?”

Tyler’s jaw pops forward and his neck turns red. Maybe if he lightened up, he’d have a shot at being hot. Coveralls alone are enough to get me going, regardless of gender. Coveralls imply hard work and a willingness to get your hands dirty. That, in my book, is quite sexy.

But coveralls can’t save the man’s hotness when he’s being such a little prick. There was definitely a time when Tyler was of interest to me, but it was almost another lifetime or an alternate universe or something.

“Relax,” I add, “it was just a candy cig.”

“Reba, I swear to god,” he bites out. “If you gave my child⁠—”