I Gave You My Heart, but You Sold It Online Page 4

  No, the problem with Vernon had become apparent when he paid for dinner with a “buy one, get one free” coupon. She didn’t know if it was her meal or his that the “free” part of the coupon covered, but it was just too much that he didn’t think she was worth the Hogg’s Chuck Wagon Meal, which was a four-dollar burger plate. The last straw had been when the conversation throughout the meal turned out to be a debate with himself about whether the evening’s expense was tax deductible. Frugal was one thing, but stingy was another. “I’ll admit he’s better than Vernon. So far.”

  “Yes!” Jill made a fist and pumped her arm. “Just think, Mom. He may be your knight in shining armor.”

  “Let’s just wait and see, okay? Aluminum foil is shiny, too, but it can be crinkled.”

  QUINT SHIFTED IN the chair, attempting to hear the conversation going on in the other room. Maybe Allison was talking to her daughter. Or, the way his luck had been running lately, the voice could belong to a second personality that lived in her psyche.

  Before his rambling thoughts could take him down that path, Allison appeared in the doorway. “I forgot to ask how you like your coffee.”

  Quint shot up from his seat, feeling guilty for eavesdropping. “Black, thanks. I sure hope I’m not putting you to too much trouble.”

  “Don’t be silly. I’ll only be a minute.”

  She had startling green eyes, he noticed, and shiny roan-colored hair. It made a big swoop over one eye, sexy as all get out. He made a quick scan of her body. She didn’t look like the former Olympic athlete she had told him she was online. Still, Quint thought as she left the room, she was a damn fine-looking woman. He liked that she was tall and slender. Despite a blouse with an oversize collar, he could see she was big-boobed and he imagined strong, athletic legs beneath her long skirt.

  He returned to his seat, hearing more talking and, this time, laughter. Unless she was a ventriloquist, two people were in the kitchen.

  She returned to the living room with a younger version of herself in tow. She handed the steaming mug of coffee to him and set her own on the table opposite him.

  “Quint, this is my daughter, Jill.” She looked to her side, but a child was not to be seen.

  Quint leaned and looked around her. The kid was standing so close to her mother’s backside it appeared they were Velcro-’d together.

  “Jill?” Allison took the girl by the wrist and led her to her side as if she were a balky horse. “Honey, let me introduce you to someone. Jill, say hello to Mr. Matthews.”

  The girl stared at the floor and mumbled a hello.

  Why, bless her heart, she was shy. Quint bent and ducked his head attempting to make eye contact. “Well, hello, pretty little lady.” When Jill said no more, he looked back at Allison. “So this is your budding actress?”

  A puzzled expression crossed Allison’s face, but he bent again and spoke to the daughter. “Your mom’s told me so much about you. She’s real proud of your accomplishments. Are you excited about going to New York City?”

  “New York City?” Allison echoed.

  “Oops, did I let the cat out of the bag?” Quint switched looks between daughter and mother.

  “No, no, not at all,” Allison said. “I just forgot I had mentioned it to you. Jill, honey, why don’t you tell Mr. Matthews about your trip to New York.”

  “It’s nothing, really,” Jill mumbled, still looking at the floor.

  “Nothing?” Quint said. “Why, I’d hardly call a summer program for gifted teens nothing.”

  “Oh, me either,” Allison agreed.

  “I guess you can appreciate how nervous she is,” Quint said to Allison. “You weren’t much older than her when you tried out for the Olympics, were you?”

  Allison looked at him, her eyes blinking. Did she have a tic or something? Or had he hit a nerve? Even after all these years, losing the opportunity to participate in the Olympic Games had to be devastating. Being an athlete himself, he could appreciate the lingering pain. “I’m sorry if I said something wrong—”

  “Oh, no, you haven’t said anything wrong.” Allison released her daughter’s wrist. “Excuse me. I’m going to get some cookies from the kitchen.”

  Shit. Cookies usually had nuts. His last allergic reaction to nuts had occurred in this very town and had sent him to an Odessa hospital. “Thanks, but I never eat cookies.” He patted his stomach. “Gotta watch my weight.”

  “Well, I eat cookies,” Allison said through a stiff smile, “and it’s time I had one. Jill, why don’t you come into the kitchen and help me?”

  “I’m fine here,” Jill said, plopping into a chair.

  Still smiling, Allison gripped her daughter by the upper arm and pulled her to her feet. “Come on, Meryl Streep. I need your help.”

  “Ow, ow,” the kid wailed. Then: “Who’s Meryl Streep?”

  “Never mind.” Allison guided her daughter out of the room, speaking to Quint over her shoulder. “Quint, we’ll be right back.”

  He had another sip of coffee as he stared after them. Both of them were a little uptight, but things seemed to be going okay. It was probably his fault. He’d messed up, mentioning the Olympic trials. He made a mental note to watch what he said and refrain from mentioning her being forced to give up the Miss Texas title, too.

  AS SOON AS Allison guided Jill into the kitchen, the girl yanked her arm free and made a beeline toward the back door that opened to the yard. “I’m going to see if Susan Kay is home yet.”

  “Get back here now,” Allison said sternly. “Tell me what other fabrications you’ve told this man.”

  Jill’s eyes welled up with tears. “I told him those things in the beginning, Mom. When we were first talking. I didn’t think he’d ever come here.”

  “It wasn’t right to lie to him, Jill. He seems like a nice person.” Allison leaned against the cabinet and brushed her hair from her brow. “Now I don’t know what to do.”

  “You aren’t going to tell him the truth, are you? He’ll think I’m a psycho. A total dweeb. He’ll leave and never come back.” Jill began to sniffle.

  “Tell me right now what other stories you’ve told him. I can handle anything, but I have to know about it first.”

  “I told him just one more thing,” Jill said meekly.

  “What? What is it?”

  “I told him you had to give up your crown as Miss Texas when you got pregnant with me.”

  Allison’s jaw dropped and she gasped. “My Lord, Jill. What made you go to those extremes?”

  “I had to, Mom! I didn’t have anything else to tell him. Our life’s so dull. The truth is, Mom, he’s famous. I thought you’d recognize him when I showed you his picture. He’s been World Champion All-Around Cowboy lots of times. He advertises stuff everywhere. He knows George Strait. I couldn’t let him think we’re losers.”

  Losers? Allison was stunned. She had no idea Jill viewed their lives in such a negative way. But she couldn’t dwell on the worry because a lightbulb moment flashed in her head and distracted her. “My God. That’s Quint Matthews.”

  five

  Debbie Sue left the Styling Station not just tired and worn out, but tense. She headed home with odd emotions confusing her thoughts. Memories of her long-ago relationship with Quint Matthews and her years in rodeo roiled in her mind. She had met Quint at sixteen, and from the first, he had affected her in an unsettling way.

  Ten miles later she reached the cattle-guard entrance to the home she shared with her husband, Buddy Overstreet. In almost all ways, no two men could be more opposite than Quint and Buddy, she thought as she eased up the long caliche driveway. Quint was smart, exciting, and good-looking. He was fun and crazy, always shooting for the stars…But a woman—any woman—would be downright foolish to let herself believe half the words that fell from his mouth.

  Buddy was plenty smart, too, but the difference was Buddy was steady and loyal. No matter the circumstances, Debbie Sue never doubted his affection. He was more truthful than G
eorge Washington; his word was a bond and he just instinctively knew the difference between right and wrong. Wherever he went, he commanded respect. Besides that, he was big and tough, and hands down, he was the best-looking man in Texas.

  On the far side of the twenty-five-acre pasture, she saw Rocket Man grazing; he was her horse from her rodeoing days. Another part of her brain noted the sparse, dry pasture and wondered if he had enough to eat. She regarded the paint gelding as a best friend. He had made her a barrel-racing champion in ProRodeo and he deserved to spend the rest of his life grazing and lazing in the sun.

  In a matter of minutes she was rewarded with the best sight on earth—the old, modest dwelling where she had grown up and where she and Buddy now resided. There were grander and newer houses to be had, even in Salt Lick, but they were houses, not homes. Nothing compared to the warmth, serenity, and pure happiness she associated with this place.

  She pulled her pickup under a carport attached to one side of the house, grabbed her purse from the passenger’s seat, and scooted out. Three dogs met her with energetic enthusiasm. Each of the mixed-breed strays had found his way to her home and into her heart since she and Buddy had moved here two years earlier. Jim Beam, Jack Daniel’s, and José Cuervo—or commonly called Jim, Jack, and Joe—seemed to appreciate their good fortune and yapped and jumped and ran about in a frenzy. Debbie Sue laughed. “Settle down, boys, settle down. You’re acting like I’ve been gone a week.”

  She reached inside the back door for the bag of dog biscuits she kept on a shelf and tossed each mutt a treat. After giving each of them a loving scratch behind the ears, she went into the house with Quint still on her mind.

  On the one hand, she was relieved he hadn’t made it to the salon before she closed. She felt guilty enough that she hadn’t already told Buddy her ex-lover had called a few days ago. She hadn’t told him because she didn’t look forward to opening up old wounds. Still, no way was she going to keep a conversation with Quint a secret from Buddy, either. Her husband was her soul mate. They had made promises to each other when they remarried. She wouldn’t jeopardize that trust—not for Quint, not for anyone.

  On the other hand, her nosy side was dying to know the mess her old friend might have gotten himself into this time and how he thought the Domestic Equalizers could help him.

  The only logical conclusion was that his problems involved a woman. In that area, the possibilities were endless—married, separated, divorced, engaged, underage, or another gold digger. Poor ol’ Quint had been through them all. Even someone confused about his/her sexual identity or preference wasn’t off-limits to Quint. Where women were concerned, there hadn’t been a man so intent on his own self-destruction as Quint Matthews since Adam took a bite out of that apple.

  She had agreed to talk to him because if she had a flaw in her character, it was undying loyalty—even when it went undeserved—to those who had crossed the threshold of her life and left footprints.

  Together, she and Quint had been rough-and-ready teenagers chasing the rodeo circuit and the dreams it offered. On her seventeenth birthday she had given him her virginity behind a horse trailer at a rodeo in Lubbock and nothing could change that.

  In the ensuing years she had seen sides of him that most people hadn’t. The cockiness he never failed to show masked a host of insecurities. He had grown up with disinterested parents. His dad had been consumed with making money. His mom was determined to spend his dad’s every penny. Golfing, shopping, day spas, and jetting from one fad watering hole to the next was her life. Debbie Sue had always believed that Quint’s desire to show he was no slouch at making money himself was an effort to prove something to his dad.

  Basically, Quint was a good person. A real heart beat inside his chest, faint at times, but still there.

  When she was divorced from Buddy, Quint had come closer than anyone to winning her over, but thank God she and Buddy had mended their fences. Living apart from him wasn’t a formula for her continued happiness.

  But that didn’t mean she couldn’t care about Quint’s well-being, did it?

  Oh, shit, here she was again, making seemingly rational decisions based on worthless assumptions. Hmm. Maybe she had two character flaws.

  Well, she would hear Quint out. Rodeo people always had been and still were Quint’s family. And just because neither he nor she performed in the arena anymore didn’t mean they didn’t have the mud and the blood in their veins. Just ask Garth Brooks. He sang a perfect song about it. In the end, more than likely, she would try to help Quint the best she knew how and deal with the fit Buddy would have.

  She made her way to the bathroom up the hall from the master bedroom and shed her clothes. A day’s worth of permanent solution, hair dye, and cigarette smoke propelled her to the shower. Midway into her second shampoo a large masculine hand appeared inside the plastic shower curtain. She giggled and dodged as the hand reached and finally found her breast. “Did you find what you’re looking for?” she shouted over the roar of the water.

  “Not really,” a deep voice answered. “I was hoping to find my wife, but this doesn’t feel like her.”

  “Oh, yeah? And just who does it feel like?”

  “My wife’s kinda flat-chested. This feels like Dolly Parton. But I can’t figure out what she’s doing in Salt Lick and, stranger yet, inside my shower.”

  On a laugh, Debbie Sue swept back the shower curtain and confronted her husband. He was as naked as she was. “Fuck you, Buddy Overstreet.”

  He gave her a leering grin and stepped into the shower. “That’s kinda what I had in mind.”

  Debbie Sue wrapped her arms around his waist and pressed her face against his solid chest. Happy wasn’t the word to describe how she felt with Buddy. In his arms was where she belonged. She hadn’t planned on this approach for delivering her news about Quint, but she wasn’t above taking advantage of the situation either.

  Almost an hour later, definitely less tense than she had been earlier, Debbie Sue snuggled closer to the warmth of Buddy’s big body in their king-size bed. “I think it’s my turn to cook supper,” she murmured, nuzzling his neck. “I need to go.”

  His hold tightened on her waist. “Hmm, I could eat a horse.”

  “Don’t say that after what we went through with Rocket Man.” Debbie Sue still hadn’t forgotten how, in a daring night raid, she, Edwina, and Paige McBride-Atwater had rescued Rocket Man from a horse thief and the slaughter house. Buddy hadn’t forgotten it either, though she wished he would. It had been a little bit of a fiasco.

  “Let’s stay here ten more minutes,” Buddy said. “Then I’ll help you cook.”

  As the minutes passed Quint’s phone call niggled at her. Finally, she said, “Hey, guess who called the Domestic Equalizers?” It sounded better to say he called the business instead of calling her personally.

  “A bill collector.”

  “No, silly. These days, I’m keeping the bills paid.”

  “I give up. Who called?”

  “Quint.” There. It was out. She held her breath waiting for the outburst.

  “Matthews? Quint Matthews called you?” Buddy moved her away from him and looked into her face, his deep brown eyes boring a hole all the way to her soul.

  “Not me. He called the Domestic Equalizers. There’s a difference.”

  “Not as far as I’m concerned. There’s no reason the son of a bitch should be calling you.”

  “Don’t get upset. He wants to talk to Edwina and me when he’s in town about—”

  “He’s coming to town?” Buddy pushed her farther away. “He’s coming to town to talk to you?”

  “No. He said—”

  “I don’t care what he said.” A muscle in Buddy’s square jaw clenched and Debbie Sue recognized the warning. “You’re not gonna talk to him.”

  “It’s business,” she countered. “He needs help with a problem and he called us. That’s why we started the Equalizers, Buddy, to help people. You know I don’t care about
Quint in the way you’re thinking.”

  “What I know is that you did once. And how he still feels about you is what bothers me. He tried to take you away from me. He’s not getting the chance to do it again.”

  “You’re being silly, Buddy. I’ve never loved anyone but you, and besides, we were divorced when I went out with Quint. It’s not like I was cheating on you.”

  Buddy swung his feet to the floor and stood up. Both hands went to his hips and he glared down at her. She had a hard time not laughing. The angry look on his face was scarcely one she would expect to see on a naked man when she was naked, too.

  “Debbie Sue, I’m not gonna argue with you. I forbid you to see him and that’s it. End of discussion.”

  Somewhere in the silent immense universe, a bell rang and a part of her over which she had no control crouched and put up fists, poised to come out fighting. “You forbid?…You? Forbid?”

  She sprang to her feet, stood up in the middle of the mattress, and glared down at him, her body language mirroring his. “Buddy, you know damn well you’re not supposed to forbid me to do anything. You promised you wouldn’t do that to me again.”

  He flung a hand in the air. “Okay, maybe forbid was the wrong word. I don’t and won’t forbid you to do anything. It’s just that I can’t stand that skirt-chasing lowlife. I don’t trust him. Plain and simple, I don’t want you seeing him.”

  She leaned toward him, tapping her collarbone with her fingertips. “What about me? Don’t you trust me?”

  “You know I do.” Buddy reached up for her, but she took a step backward, the unsteady mattress surface almost tripping her.

  “Then listen to yourself. If you really trusted me you wouldn’t be afraid of Quint.”

  “I’m not afraid of him,” Buddy said. “It’s just that he’s always strutted around like he’s the only rooster in the chicken coop. And now he’s got all that damn money. I never liked him, even before y’all got together.”