The Pioneer Woman by Ree Drummond Read Free Book Online Page A

him tighter, if that was even possible, trying to drown out the clanging cymbal of the car phone by stirring up even more passion between us. It was a beautiful moment; the dark, rural setting had made it so easy to pretend we were in another time and place, in another world. Aside from the ringing of the phone and the headlights from our vehicles, we could have been any two people in the whole history of time.
    But the ringing wasn’t going away, and ignoring it became impossible. “Who is that?” Marlboro Man asked. “It’s a little late, isn’t it?” His strong embrace loosened just enough for me to notice.
    It was a little late, yes—just after midnight. Way too late for a mom or a brother or most casual friends.
    It was also too late for J. We’d been together so long, and he’d never feltcompelled to assert his love and affection like this before—only now, when he realized I was out the door, when he saw that my mind was made up, was he finally mustering up the wherewithal to make his true feelings known. And, of course, it had to be now, when I was standing in the arms of a man I was falling more in love with every day. It was way too late for J. Too late for anyone except Marlboro Man.
    Finally the ringing stopped, hallelujah, and the kissing resumed. Marlboro Man’s grip tightened, and I was swept away, once again, to that other time and place. Then the ringing began again, and I was thrown back into reality.
    â€œDo you need to get that?” he asked.
    I wanted to answer. I wanted to explain that in all our great conversations over the previous week, I’d managed to omit the fact that I was fresh out—barely out—of a four-year relationship. That I’d been slowly breaking it off over the past few weeks and that it had come to a head in the past day or two. That he was at the airport two hours from here, wanting to see me in person. That I’d refused him…because the only thing on my mind was coming here.
    How do you talk to a new love about an old one, especially so early in a relationship? If I’d brought it up earlier in the week, spilled the whole story about J and me, it might have appeared I was being way too open way too soon. Plus, when I was with Marlboro Man, right or wrong, J hardly crossed my mind. I was too busy staring at Marlboro Man’s eyes. Memorizing his muscles. Breathing in his masculinity. Getting drunk on its vapors.
    But now, standing in the dark and feeling so close to him, I wished I’d told Marlboro Man the whole story. Because as uncomfortable as the truth was, the incessant after-midnight phone calls were worse. For all Marlboro Man knew, it was my next date for the evening—or worse, my sugar daddy, Rocco, wanting to know where I was. The phone calls would have sounded much better if I’d provided more context before they arrived with a vengeance. “Sounds like you need to go,” he said as reality swept away thebeautiful mist. He was right. As little as he knew about the phone calls that kept coming, he knew they were something that had to be dealt with.
    What could I possibly say? Oh, it’s just my ex-boyfriend…no big deal sounded trite and clichéd. And it was a big deal—if not to me, then certainly to J. But spilling the whole tale about J flying to see me against my wishes was more drama than I cared to insert into this love scene, especially after my breakdown in Marlboro Man’s kitchen earlier in the evening. But silence wasn’t appealing, either, as it would have just looked sketchy. I could have lied and said it was my brother Mike, calling for a ride to the fire station. But Mike wouldn’t have been up that late. And besides, I didn’t want to have to explain why my adult brother would even want to hang out at fire stations. My hands were tied.
    So I chose the middle ground. “Yep,” I agreed. “I’d better go. Old boyfriend.