He gripped the armrests. “Whoa. Pull up.”
J. D. smiled a crazy Cheshire cat smile. The glider dropped through the air backward, then the wings sliced through the air end over end as the plane began to spin.
Out of control!
“Do something!”
Holy shit, he’s going to kill us!
Dylan’s head spun as the world flashed by, and he could no longer decipher up from down. His heart ping-ponged around his chest in a crazy loop.
With one well-timed spin of the control, J. D. evened out the glider, and they soared on an air current.
Dylan’s heart whumped in his chest and he gasped as if someone had choked him. Finally his heart settled back into place. Mostly. He could breathe enough to ask, “What the hell was that about?”
J. D. sat behind the wheel like nothing out of the ordinary had occurred. “You never answered my question.”
Dylan realized he’d plastered himself low against the seat and pulled himself higher. “What fucking question?”
“You don’t want to be happy like Jeff?”
“I’m happy enough.” Why the hell did the old man care?
J. D. nodded. “Good.”
“I am.”
“Great.” The cowboy was more emphatic this time.
What was with this guy? “Screw you.”
“You’re not my type.” J. D. put the glider into a swirling nosedive.
The landscape details growing larger with each heartbeat, Dylan braced again. Another free fall. No cartoonish sound effects. No engine failure. No freaking engine. J. D. could stop this. Did he expect him to beg?
Fuck that
. “What the hell’s wrong with you?”
J. D. calmly drew up on the wheel, and they swirled gracefully into an arc. Low to the ground, but parallel. “Bringing her in for a landing. Hold on. It might get a little rough. Not as rough as it’ll get if you do anything—and I mean an-y-thing—to hurt Clarissa.”
Dylan simply nodded. J. D. may or may not have noticed as he eased the glider down onto the runway. One small bump, and the plane soon rolled to a stop. Dylan scrambled out, head and stomach in a competition to see which could churn faster. Legs weak and wobbly, he stumbled and flailed to keep his balance. His body didn’t want to cooperate, but he willed himself toward the hangar.
Shit!
And with more people waiting for their turn in J. D.’s glider, Dylan had no ride back to Marfa. Why hadn’t he thought of that before? J. D. certainly had. One nauseating glance back at him made Dylan shudder again. The cowboy waved and smiled at him. Freaking John Wayne wannabe. At least Clarissa didn’t fall for the lonesome cowboy crap. One thing in her favor.
A woman touched his shoulder. “Are you all right?”
He realized he was gripping the siding of the hangar like a lifeline. “Yes, fine.” He straightened and hoped he wouldn’t topple over. “Is anyone going back to town? Or do you know if there’s a taxi service?” He’d never seen a cab in Marfa, so doubted it.
“I’ll drive you.” The woman turned to three people nearby. “After that display, I’m not going up with him.”
One of the men asked Dylan, “J. D. did that on purpose, right? It was awesome!”
“Awesome, yeah.” Awesome Dylan hadn’t tossed his cookies. Good thing he hadn’t had breakfast beforehand. Probably why J. D. whisked him away from the café before he could eat. Saving his damn glider from certain foulness. “Can we leave now?” He couldn’t get away from there fast enough.
***
Last day of the festival. Clarissa usually looked forward to the wind-down. Except this year, it brought the wedding that much closer. And less people would mean less distraction from Dylan.
Hard to ignore the glazed expression he wore after returning from J. D.’s glider ride. Like he’d been shaken to the core.
You should have stopped them
. Guilt nagged her worse when he refused lunch and left on shaky legs to go back to the yurt for a nap. He’d never returned to help in the booth last night.
The afternoon passed in a blur with customers streaming in and out of the café. When the last of them cleared out, Clarissa heaved a sigh of relief as Jeff turned the sign on the door to Closed. “What are you guys doing later?”
“Amy’s friends from college are visiting. Didn’t she invite you?”
“Yes, but they need time to catch up by themselves.”
“You’re always welcome if you change your mind.”
“Thanks.” The problem was, she didn’t know what she wanted right now. Her life had come unglued. Everything would be different after Amy and Jeff married.
As she carried the last of the dirty dishes into the kitchen, Harvey looked up from scrubbing the grill. “So, are you hitting Padre’s tonight?”
“I don’t know.” Might still be too crowded, though people had already begun to leave town. She wasn’t feeling sociable.
“I’ll buy you a beer.” He threw her a grin over his shoulder.
She gave a halfhearted shrug. “I’ll probably stay home and paint.”
“Okay, but you’ll miss a mean game of air hockey.”
“I’ll take a rain check.” She headed out for one last look around the café. After cleaning up, she headed out. “’Night, Harvey.”
“Adios,
chickita
.”
After entering her cottage, she stood inside the small space. For the first time, the walls closed in on her. Not even painting would get her out of her head, so she grabbed her car keys. The Mystery Lights. When her nerves frazzled, she went to the viewing platform. Watching the lights float in the darkness always centered her again.
When she reached the street, J. D. was climbing out of his pickup. He had that glow he always had after flying, the rush of it still coloring his cheeks. He looked up, and the glow faded.
Aha. Guilt. “Hey!” She hurried toward him.
Glancing left and right, he hitched his jeans, looking every bit like Wile E. Coyote about to sprint away to safety. Or get hit with an anvil.
Not yet, you don’t
. “Hold up, J. D. I want to have a word.”
Trademark dimples deepening, he aimed a thousand-watt smile at her. “Always happy to have a word with you, darling. But I’m late for a dinner date.”
“Why, J. D.? Just tell me why you felt the need to do it, and you can be on your way.”
“Do what?”
Seriously? Playing games with her? “Scare the shit out of Dylan. What the hell did you do to him up there?”
“Gave him a free ride.” His smile turned into a smirk.
For the first time since meeting J. D., she didn’t like him. Maybe she’d only fooled herself into thinking she knew the real man beneath those killer dimples and caring conversations. “Most glider rides don’t resemble carnival Tilt-A-Whirls.”
“They do when the pilot’s getting in some early practice for the extreme gliding competition.”
Unfreakingbelievable. “Why would you do it to him?”
He smoothed his mustache, and then his expression soured. It reminded her of middle school, the snarky bully talking down to the weak kid. “To make an impression. So he’d heed my advice.”
Oh Lordy. “You have no reason to be advising him.”
He set his steely gaze on her. “Oh, but I do. He’s not going to use you and walk away.”
Where did that come from? “Use me? Come on, J. D.”
“I see the way he looks at you.”
“The way you used to?” Instant regret. Why throw that in his face, especially when she’d never wanted him to think of her as more than a friend?
Or maybe you enjoyed it more than you wanted to admit?
From his tight expression, she’d hit the mark, too. “Yeah, I guess. But I knew my boundaries. He’s clueless.”
“I’ll take care of patrolling the boundaries, all right?”
The fire left his eyes, and the warmth faded from his face. “Fine. Have a pleasant evening.” His smile turned wry and he tipped his Stetson before striding off.
“J. D.…” She stopped short of asking him to wait. She had no right. And there was no point. For now, she had to let loose a dear friendship if she wanted it to survive at all. So long as J. D. understood he couldn’t play it both ways, either.
For about two seconds after getting in her car, she hesitated. Maybe she should go check on Dylan.
Check on him? Or strip him and fuck him?
God, her head was so screwed up. Mitchell Flat seemed the less hazardous option. Once there, she leaned over the platform rail and breathed in the night air. With the Chinati Mountains as a backdrop, the lights bobbed and floated in their own mysterious dance, joining together and separating, vanishing and reappearing. No wonder some people thought them ancient Apache spirits.
They couldn’t be dangerous or the pronghorn antelope herds wouldn’t graze so peacefully in the field among them. Spirits, phosphorescent mineral displays, UFOs, even leftover military gas…. she didn’t care, so long as they kept giving her such a peaceful feeling. She hoped it would get her through Jeff and Amy’s wedding.
Or at least the wedding shower tomorrow. She almost wished Amy hadn’t asked her to be maid of honor. Living alone hadn’t bothered Clarissa until Jeff proposed to Amy. It was like losing a sister and served as a reminder that Clarissa couldn’t stay with any guy longer than a few weeks. She usually chose cowboys who lived on ranches outside Marfa, guys who made her feel good for a little while but who made breaking it off with them easy.
She understood why Amy had fallen for Jeff. The way they couldn’t go two minutes without looking at each other, touching each other, they’d made her believe in love again. For a long time, she’d refused to accept the idea of only one soul mate. One lover for life. One person to share every dream, every hope, every triumph. And cushion any failure.
So how come she couldn’t find a guy who completed her? The yin to her yang? A guy who could stand beside her on the platform and marvel at the Mystery Lights, share her wonder and joy without copping a cheap feel? Someone with whom she could share her deepest pain without fear of having it thrown back at her during a vulnerable moment, who’d understand what drove her to get each new tattoo and not laugh at her for it?
Did such a guy exist?
The feather on her shoulder warmed the way it had when Dylan had touched it.
Yeah right. Frat Boy
. Definitely not him, she told herself, but the sensation stayed with her long after she’d left the Mystery Lights behind.
***
Monday morning, Clarissa’s nerves jangled as she moved through the Blue Moon Café on autopilot, though hardly any customers showed. Not even J. D., their most regular of the regulars. Why hadn’t Dylan? Was he sick? Dammit, she should have followed her instincts last night and checked up on him. From the conversations she’d overheard, witnesses to J. D.’s extreme gliding with Dylan as an unwilling participant, he might have gone back to the yurt and had a heart attack. Or packed up and left.
No Jeff or Amy either; they’d stayed at home to spend time with family. Normally the café closed on Mondays, but today was a special day. The day after the Mystery Lights Festival ended, and Amy’s wedding shower.
Just before lunch, Vonnie Seacrest floated into the shop, not unlike a glider herself.
Wonder if J. D. has taken her up for an aerial view of Marfa?
None of your business, Clarissa
.
She flashed a grin at Vonnie. “Hey there.”
Vonnie’s toothy smile grew wider. “Hey, Clarissa. Is the café open? It is Monday, isn’t it?”
“Yes, it is, and yes, we are. Until one, and then I have to start decorating for Amy’s wedding shower.”
“It starts at three, right?”
“Yep.” The sooner it started, the sooner it would end. “So are you here to eat?”
“Yes, I’m famished.”
Clarissa grabbed a menu and led her to a table by the window. “This okay?”
“A view of the street. Perfect.” Vonnie took the menu, opened it and glanced around. “No sign of J. D. yet?”
“Not yet.” Probably laying low after yesterday. Clarissa hoped he’d stay away until he cooled down. “Did you enjoy the festival?”
“Yes, it was fantastic. I’d heard so much about it, but of course there’s nothing like experiencing it firsthand.”
Or with J. D.’s hands all over her. “We had some great bands this year. You and J. D. dance so well together. Like you’ve been doing it for years.” A flush of embarrassment went through her. Didn’t mean it to sound
that
way, like they’d been lovers for years. But that’s how they appeared, their moves easy and synchronized. A pang of regret hit her.
Lovers
—if they weren’t already, they probably would be soon. He’d seemed so happy with Vonnie at the festival. One wave at Clarissa, and he’d unleashed all that silver foxiness on Vonnie, who looked completely entranced by him.
Vonnie wrinkled her nose. “I’m terrible, but J. D.’s a wonderful dancer.”
“Mm.” He sure liked to dance around the truth.
Humor became concern as Vonnie peered up at her. “Is everything okay?”
“Oh yes, fine.” No need to go into it further. “So what can I get you to drink?”
She took Vonnie’s request for a raspberry iced tea and ran with it. Almost literally. When she returned, Vonnie still scanned the menu. “Do you need a few minutes?”
Vonnie slapped the menu shut with a smile. “It’s almost impossible to decide. Too many yummy choices!”
Clarissa kept her grin steady and nodded. “I’ll come back.”
“No need. I’ll have the spinach salad, please.”
“Coming up.” Clarissa slipped the menu from the woman’s grasp and fled. Awkward. And no reason for it, she reminded herself.
Harvey prepared the dish within minutes, and Clarissa had no excuse not to deliver it.
She breezed past Vonnie’s table, barely stopping to set the dish in front of her. “Here you go.”
The woman called after her. “So fast! Thank you.”
Clarissa waved. “Let me know if you need anything else.” She busied herself with checking the condiments. Brushing her hand against a candle brought a vivid image of Dylan asking about them. Admiring them. The warmth infusing her came as a surprise.
A few more days and he’ll be gone
. That brought a worse pang of regret than before.