Wrangled Mess Page 3

“You need to answer for this.” He sounds determined.

  I feel ratted out. “What??”

  The phone spoke in a stern woman’s voice, “Trace Michael. Why are you calling me this early in the morning??”

  “Ma, this is Celeste Skye, the woman I told you about yesterday. Do you know what she did??” He winked at me before looking back to the pan and flipping an egg.

  “Honey, unless she’s having your babies, I really don’t give a hoot.”

  “Tell her Celeste. Tell her what you named a mini pot-bellied piglet. Go ahead. Tell her.”

  “I need coffee.” His mother yawned. “By the way, nice to meet you, and good morning ,Celeste.”

  “Nice to meet you too, and good morning to you too. I’m sorry to bother you so early.” I emphasized the last words as Wrangler slid me a plate of eggs and sausage.

  “Welcome to my world honey. He’s been a morning person since the day he was born at four A.M. Alright, I have my coffee now. What are you two kids doing calling me this early?”

  “Tell her Celeste.” Wrangler dared me. Or is his name Trace? Trace Michael? Is that what she called him. Oh boy. I think it’s getting warm in here.

  “Okay, jeez. Your son gave me a piglet to foster. Although I think I’ll keep him. He’s cute.”

  “My son or the piglet?” She asked.

  I laughed, “The piglet.”

  “What did you name him Cookie?” Wrangler interrupted.

  “Cookie?? Who’s Cookie?” His mother asked before I could answer.

  I shoved eggs in my mouth and pointed to the big sneaky Cherokee warrior in my kitchen to provide an answer.

  He gave me a playful scorn before replying, “Celeste is my Cookie Ma. Can we move on?”

  “Oh good Lord. You gave the girl a nickname?? Cookie?? Oh honey. I’m so sorry. There’s no explanation for my son’s sweet tooth. Be careful, he will empty your house of sweets in no time. I’ve lost entire bowls of batter by just going to the bathroom.”

  “For some reason that doesn’t surprise me.” I love this woman already. We’ve never met, have only talked for a minute, and already she likes me. I hadn’t realized until just now how rare that is in a person these days.

  “Ma! She named the piglet Bacon Bits.” He’s on the defensive now. Serves him right for ambushing me with his mother.

  “Ha!!! That’s a good one! Was his mother a stripper? Went by the name Bacon Strips??”

  I almost spit out my eggs, but managed to swallow before having to laugh out loud. “Oh my God, I’m going to choke.”

  “Oh! That’s my door. You two kids behave. Trace, I expect to meet this young lady on Sunday.”

  “She’s got her own family deal on Sunday. I’ll talk to you about it later.”

  “Alright. We’ll figure something out. (You can hear a door opening with a slight squeak in the background) Oh come on. Old man Jenkins, how many times do I have to tell you not to cross the street in just your robe. You keep forgetting the belt, and now the children are ruined for life. Get in here you old forgetful fart.” The phone died a moment later.

  I looked up from it like his mother had actually been inside the phone, “You’re both nuts.”

  “That’s very unprofessional coming from a shrink.” He teased me.

  “We don’t like being called shrinks.” I teased back, even though it’s true for most shrinks, personally I don’t care.

  “I don’t like you calling me Wrangler. From now on my name is Trace.”

  “Is this a special right? Or do all your friends get to call you Trace?” I like the way his name nips at my tongue like I want to nip at him. Who am I?? Since when do I want to nibble on a guy?

  “Only you and my mother get away with it. By the way her name is Bina, it means musical instrument. Her voice is her instrument.” He explained before shoveling eggs into his mouth.

  “Bina, I like it. Why don’t you come sit down?”

  “Pancakes.” He motioned to where he’d set up the griddle without me noticing.

  “Hungry?”

  “Always. You said your show is over at four?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’ll give you until seven to decide.”

  “Decide what?”

  “Whether you’re going to go out with me to dinner, or stay in a relationship with a man who obviously doesn’t do it for you. I should warn you though, if you don’t go to dinner with me, my mother will hunt you down.”

  “Why would your mother hunt me down?”

  “Because I told her I’d never marry again up until yesterday when I told her I wanted to have as many kids as possible with you. She always wanted her oldest son to have kids.”

  “You were married before? Kids? Wait, you need to slow down.”

  “Right out of high school. She lied and said she was pregnant. I married her before I found out the truth. Then I tried to forgive her. It might have worked if she hadn’t changed so much over the next couple years. We grew apart, puts it mildly.”

  “How long were you married?”

  “Four years. That was ten years ago. I just turned thirty-three a few months ago.” He informed me casually.

  “You’re a little young to be committing not to marry.”

  He looked up, “So it seems.”

  I gulped down the tumbleweed that just tried to choke me and looked away as quickly as I could. “I need air.” I tightened my football grip on my piglet and walked as smoothly as I could to the sliding glass door.

  I sucked air into my lungs as deep as I could. “Shit shit shit.” Came out with the exhale. I set Bits down to do his business in the grass and looked at the mountain before me. She’s a perfect blend of browns under a young clear blue sky. Solid in her presence. Something you can count on. Yet she changes with every moment passed. The sun moves changing her shadows so she almost never looks the same twice.

  Tomorrow will bring all new colors. All new things.

  But what new things will it bring for me? A new man? He can’t be serious. He’s a flirt. That’s it. Okay. Get a hold of yourself and stop swooning like an idiot. Sometimes I need a pep talk.

  The door slid open behind me, “Would you like to finish breakfast out here?”

  I nodded without looking at him. “Please.”

  “Then have a seat on that couch before you fall over.” He ordered before going back inside.

  Now normally I’m not the follow orders kind of person. If anything I hate being told what to do. Right now it sounds more like good advice than anything. My knees are weak. Too much is happening too fast. I haven’t broken up with Jackson yet, and here I am having breakfast with a very attractive man, in my house.

  I took a seat in the far corner and tucked my legs under my butt. Bit’s hopped up eager for belly rubs and fingers to gnaw on. He’s so gentle I let him bite. He’s a real sweetheart. I hope I get to keep him. What if Wrangler… Trace, takes him away if I choose wrong.

  Choose wrong. Would I be choosing wrong to choose him? I don’t even know him.

  When Trace handed me a plate of pancakes heavy with syrup and butter I rolled my eyes, “Would you like some pancakes with your syrup?”

  He sat down close enough to graze my knee as he got comfortable. “Just a few. Pancakes are fattening.”

  “Ha ha. If you keep cooking like this I’m going to weigh five hundred pounds.” Shit. Did I just make it sound like he’d be cooking for me again?

  “When are you going to tell him?” He asked.

  I swallowed, this time there was a pancake instead of an invisible tumbleweed, so that’s a nice change. For some unknown reason though, I feel the need to play stupid. “Tell who what?”

  “When are you going to tell Jeremy it’s over?”

  “I didn’t say it was.”

  “You didn’t have
to say it, it’s written all over your face. You look like you can’t wait to get rid the guilt you’re feeling by sitting here with me right now.”

  “You just want me for my cookies.” Maybe if I make light of this we can change the subject.

  “I’m a snake charmer Cookie, not a panty charmer. Of course I want those cookies you’re trying to hide with those ugly sweats, but what I really want is that woman I met yesterday with the sparkle in her eyes.” He took a large syrupy bite dribbling on his goatee.

  I found myself wanting to lick it off and kiss him with the sweet maple flavor mingling between us.

  He wiped the syrup with his thumb then pressed it to my lower lip.

  It took every ounce of self control I have not to lick his thumb. “What are we doing?”

  He leaned over looking at my lip I’m trying not to suck clean between my teeth. “You have something on your lip.”

  Those silver eyes have me caught in a tractor beam. Is he really here? Who is this man? Who cares? He’s mesmerizing. I felt his whiskers touch my mouth as his tongue made one small clean sweep across my lip.

  I turned away before I kiss him. “I need a minute to think.”

  He leaned in further and pressed his lips to my cheek. “Wear a dress tonight. I want to take you someplace nice, while I have the night off for a change.”

  “What makes you think I want to go out with you tonight?”

  “Because if you don’t, I’ll repo the piglet.” He gave me a simple wink before letting himself back inside the house.

  I hugged my Bits who is more interested in my pancakes than hugs and kisses. He better not take my piggy. I’ll sit on him. Squish him with my size fourteen butt. I doubt even I could squash Wrangler. He’s a lean mean muscle machine. I’d enjoy trying though.

  “Bits!! Stop it!” That’s the fifth time he’s dumped his water dish in my studio.

  “Excuse me?” Francine, my current caller, asked at my outburst.

  “Sorry Francine. I have a new roommate, and he won’t stop toppling his water dish. Bad Bits, now knock it off.” I shooed him away with the help of a rolling tennis ball.

  “A dog?” She asked.

  “No. He’s a mini pot-bellied piglet. A friend of mine asked me to foster him for a couple weeks. I’m hoping I get to keep him. He really is a sweetheart, but he’s a menace, and a klutz.”

  She laughed, “Oh my God. You have to put his picture on your Facebook page.”

  “Good idea. Sorry for the interruption, where were we?” I sat back in my chair to watch Bits nose the tennis ball on the floor. He’ll do this as long as I’m looking at him. The second I turn away he runs over and dumps his water.

  3

  I called Jackson at four-thirty after my producer, Eddie, and sound guy, Barry, left.

  When Jackson answered he didn’t sound too thrilled to hear from me. “Celeste. How was the show?”

  “Amusing. I’m sorry I hung up on you this morning.”

  “If I had known you weren’t listening I could have listened to the news instead of wasting my time, and cell phone minutes, on your brain fade.”

  “Ouch.” Okay, I deserve that.

  “And what’s this I hear about you fostering pigs??”

  “It’s a long story.”

  “And what friend of ours would give you a pig?”

  “You don’t know him.”

  “Him. Who is him?”

  “The snake guy I called. I guess we’re friends now. I don’t know. He asked if I could watch the piglet. I’m thinking I’ll try to keep him. He’s really cute, and funny.” I touched noses with my new best friend.

  “No Celeste. No pigs in the house.” Suddenly I miss my ridiculous nickname Cookie. Has Jerry, Jackson, shit, now I’m doing it, always sounded like such an ass?

  “It’s my house.” I argued.

  “I thought we were talking about getting married. That means we share our assets. Correct?”

  “Yeah, about that. I don’t think I want to get married.”

  “What about kids?? I thought you wanted the white picket fence and all that shit?”

  “I got the impression you were more interested in dinners out with the boss and his hot blonde wife.”

  “You know I like my women with a little meat on them.” He thinks he’s funny, but his fat jokes have never amused me the way everyone else’s do. His attempts at humor stink of ridicule.

  I looked at my cell phone as my temper reach critical mass. “Asshole.” I threw the phone as hard as I could into the fireplace and dropped to the floor when it popped a little too loud. Like an electrical pop from a transformer.

  I peeked up over the back of the couch as the smell hit us. “Time to get out of here Bits. Mommy made stinkies.” The smell of plastic burning is awful. I put my shirt over our noses and headed out front.

  I have no idea where I’m going. Should I call the cops? Does a cell phone on fire make a toxic fume? Is that an emergency? I don’t think so, but then again, what if somebody breathes it in and dies??

  Now I really don’t know what to do, or where to go.

  I’m one of few people in the world that still need a landline. It’s mostly for the fax machine, but since I’m known to let my cell phone die more often than not, the landline serves two purposes.

  Guess who I called.

  He answered on the second ring. “Cookie?”

  “I need you.” I choked on the words.

  “I’m leaving now. What happened sweetheart? You sound scared.” His instant concern flooded me with emotion. “Are you at home?”

  “Yes.” My voice cracked.

  “Okay. Stay put. Talk to me. What happened?” I heard him start the engine of his truck and felt a whoosh of relief. He’s coming. I can breathe now. Wrangler will fix my stinky house.

  “I threw my cell phone into the fireplace. I exploded something stinky. Bad stinky. I can’t get the smell out.” Do I tell him about the fat comment Jackson made?

  “Are you in the house?”

  “I’m outside, my cordless phone will only go as far as the mailbox.”

  He chuckled.

  “It’s not funny!!!” I smiled. Something inside me knew if he wasn’t worried, then I shouldn’t be either. “Stop laughing at me. This is all your fault.”

  “I know Cookie. Open the garage door. I’ll have Sawyer bring a fan.” I love how he’s confidently taking control of the situation. All I have to do is follow orders and everything will be okay.

  “Who is Sawyer?” I’m trying to compose myself with deep breaths.

  “Sawyer. One of my many brothers. He’s also the AJ Fire Chief. They have huge fans that can clear a house in minutes. I think he’s at the the club, he usually goes by there at the end of his shift. He can grab a couple prospects to help him drag the fans over to air out your house.”

  “No fire trucks. Holy crap my neighbors probably think I have a nest of snakes as it is.”

  “No fire trucks, just a buggy. I promise.”

  “A what? Seriously?? Horses??”

  I can almost hear him shaking his head. “Horses, he’ll like that one. What are you wearing?”

  “Jeans, a shirt, and a very confused piglet. Wrangler?”

  “Trace.” He corrected.

  “Trace. Can I ask you something completely off the wall?”

  “Ask me anything you want.”

  “Was it me, or my cookies that got your attention first?”

  “I’ve senn a lot cookies my dear, but none that have your smile, your eyes, or your perfect body. Do you know what my favorite dessert is?” Is he trying to distract me?

  I decided quickly to let him. “No. What is it?”

  “Pumpkin pie. Want to know why?”

  “Enlighten me.”

  “The pumpkin
is a versatile melon. It stores for long periods of time, up to five months in cooler climates. The seeds are full of nutrients, and there’s plenty in each ripe one for reproduction. They thrive in both hot and cold weather if you know what you’re doing. And if you take special care of them, pluck them when they’re just ripe with pulp, you can warm and massage the flesh until it’s soft and smooth, making a sweet pie. A pie that when mixed with cream, makes you want to melt away with the spices on your tongue.”

  I sat on the ground slowly as he spoke this food porn to me. I don’t know if I’m hungry or horny!!

  “Cookie?”

  “I love pie.” I can’t get past the cream yet, hold on. Might need a minute to reboot here. Breathe.

  He chuckled. “Stand up sweetheart. I’m here, Sawyer’s right behind me.”

  I shook off the pie porn and stood on shaky legs. Wow, he’s fast.

  Trace caught my face in his hands as a large white pickup truck pulled in behind him. “You okay?” Impossibly light blue eyes studied my face as they creased with concern.

  “Aside from the pie-gasm you just gave me in the driveway!! I’m fine!” I smacked his chest lightly, “What was that? Pie poetry?”

  “Who’s roasting cell phones?? Pew!!” A man carrying a large round metal fan headed towards my front door.

  I dropped my forehead to Trace’s chest with Bits between us in my arms. “Oh my God. I am such an idiot.”

  He’s shaking as his chuckle threatens to make me mad all over again. “Sorry Cookie. It’ll be over in a few minutes. When the guys get done here we’ll go in, you can tell me what happened.”

  I stepped back forcing myself to be stronger than this. “Do you mind explaining to me how you can take an otherwise innocent pumpkin, and turn it into pie erotica??”

  “I like pie.” He shrugged hooking me under his arm and stepping aside to make room for the guy who put the fan in the opening of my front door. “Celeste, this is my half-brother Sawyer. Sawyer, my girl Celeste.”

  Sawyer held his hand out for me to shake, “I take it you’re the cell phone killer?”

  “That’s me. Thank you for coming out. I’m really sorry.”

  “That’s okay, my guys are in there cleaning out your kitchen.”