Kristen Blooming (9 page)

* * * *

Brandon gripped his head and curled into the fetal position as the pounding cutting straight out of the back of his skull made him feel as though he was getting hit with a hammer. That was where he’d clipped the corner of Duncan’s nightstand when Kristen had chunked him onto the floor. He should have seen that one coming.

He’d really blown it.

He’d moved way too fast, but in his defense, he’d been completely blindsided. Brandon had fucked his way through a lot of women and a lot of good times, but none of that compared to the all-consuming heat that had seared through him at the first taste of Kristen’s kiss. The pleasure, the want, the need, had all been beyond words.

He wanted more.

He wanted it all, and he was going to have it.

He just needed to move a little slower, and maybe strap Kristen down. That thought brought a smile to Brandon’s face and an even sharper pain to his head. He was definitely going to strap her down, tie her up, and then have some real fun.

That is if he managed to catch her. While Brandon knew he hadn’t been alone in the fires that had sprung out of their embrace, he’d also suspected that a virgin as sweetly untried as Kristen would bolt at the very first electric touch of lust. So, she had, and he wasn’t the least bit surprised to find her missing when he finally managed to drag himself off the floor.

His legs held, though they weren’t complete steady beneath him. That was the leftover effects of Kristen’s escape, and so was the room that felt as if it was spinning around him. It took a moment for the world to right around him, and still, when he took that first step, it started to spin again.

At least he didn’t throw up, and he kind of wanted to by the time he made it all the way to the back door. The sunlight was too bright for him to make it out past the awning that covered the small patio off the kitchen. He didn’t have to go much farther, though, to draw attention to himself. In fact he didn’t have to take another step before his friends were starting to buzz around him.

“What the hell happened to you?” Dylan scowled as he took in Brandon’s condition. “You’re bleeding.”

He hadn’t known that, but it explained a lot. So did his answer. “I made a move.”

Dylan instantly snorted over a laugh and turned to the side as Jimmy shoved his way forward. He was scowling, and that couldn’t be a good sign.

“Jesus, look at you. You guys aren’t going to let me take a single day off, are you?” Jimmy bitched as he latched onto Brandon’s arm and all but shoved him toward a lounger. “Now sit down before you fall down and let me see if you need stitches.”

* * * *

“I should have known never to go to Duncan’s stupid party,” Cybil muttered as Kristen sat silently in the seat beside her.

She was still trying to come to grips with what had happened to her, but there was simply no explanation for it. She’d lost complete control. She’d allowed the deputy liberties no man should have unless they were involved in a serious relationship. What was even worse, she wanted more.

“Of course, I’m the idiot who insisted we go,” Cybil raged on, seeming completely unaware of Kristen’s impending breakdown.

She was wanton, and definitely not gay.

“I don’t know which one of that makes us the bigger idiot.”

Kristen did. She was the big idiot…maybe she was in love. That would certainly explain a lot, but wouldn’t she know if she loved the deputy? How could she love him when she didn’t even know anything about him?

“And then he had to go throw you into the pool. And all for what?”

What? That was the question. What was wrong with her? Kristen wished she knew.

“To make me jealous.” Cybil snorted and braked hard for a stop sign. “I really don’t know why I love him.”

Kristen blinked, coming out of her thoughts to turn and blink in stunned amazement at Cybil, who was looking back at her with just as shocked an expression.

“You’re in love with Duncan?”

“No.”

“But you just said
⎯
”

“That he’s an immature asshole. Yes.” Cybil turned back to the road to stare out at it forlornly. “And I have bad taste in men.”

Kristen didn’t know why, but she giggled at that. The light, airy sound deepened into true laughs as Cybil joined her. In that moment of misery disguised as hysteria, their friendship was bonded. It ended as it began with an abrupt blare of a horn as the driver behind Cybil honked at her.

“Oh, honey, we are a pair.” Cybil sighed and eased up on the brake to finally roll through the intersection. “Though, you haven’t told me what idiot you fell in love with, but I bet I can take a guess. Deputy Hammel?”

Kristen blushed and glanced down at her lap as she confessed to the truth. “He kissed me.”

“Hmm.”

“And I liked it.” Kristen peeked up to see if that had shocked her new friend, but Cybil’s smile was nothing but warm and full of understanding, emboldening her to expand her confession. “A lot.”

“You’ve never been kissed before, have you?”

“Not like that.” Kristen sighed and shook her head. “It isn’t right, but…I wanted him.”

“There is nothing wrong with that,” Cybil quickly assured her. “You’re a pretty woman with healthy needs.”

“But I always thought that those…healthy needs would be…”

“Saved for marriage?” Cybil supplied, a hint of amusement sounding in her tone.

“For love.” That’s what Kristen really wanted.

“Well then, you need to give it time and room to grow,” Cybil suggested as she pulled into Gwen’s drive. She brought her car to a stop and pulled up the hand brake before turning to pin Kristen with a pointed look. “And who better to give that to than a man who makes you lose your head?”

“I just don’t understand.” Kristen really didn’t. “The deputy is not my type.”

“You have a type?” Cybil lifted a brow, clearly doubting that Kristen did. “I don’t mean to offend you, honey, but you don’t seem to know what you like. After all, you keep letting your cousin pick your clothes.”

Cybil had a point. One that bothered Kristen as she finally said her farewells and headed into the house. It was time. Time for her to get her sewing machine out and start looking online. She might not have money for a new wardrobe, but Kristen had the talents to make one out of her old clothes.

By the time Gwen got home that night, Kristen had already decided what her new style was going to be
⎯
retro. She’d spent a good part of the afternoon on the Internet, purposefully avoiding thinking about both her near drowning and the passionate embrace that followed. The two were impossible to ignore, though, and her thoughts led her to a shocking realization.

She wasn’t really living. Kristen was only existing.

Sure, she had plans and dreams, but for some strange reason, she seemed to be waiting for life to happen. Well, no more. She hadn’t moved out of her parents’ house and gotten a job because she needed somebody tell her what to do. That included everything, including how to dress.

So, with renewed determination, she began pulling out her clothes and figuring out how to alter them so they were more modern but yet still in the stylish fashion of decades gone by. She worked late into the night until she was just too tired to continue on. By the time she went to sleep, it was well after midnight, and Gwen still hadn’t come home, leaving Kristen lying in bed exhausted but too unnerved to pass out until she heard her cousin finally stumble in through the front door.

By noon the next day, Gwen still hadn’t appeared from her room, and Kristen had grown tired of waiting for her to wake up so she could ask her cousin for a ride. Instead, she called Cybil, who immediately agreed to take Kristen down to Dothan to see if she could get a haircut.

More than that, Cybil knew just the place to go and offered to shell out for the facials and pedicures that came with the new, more sophisticate hairstyle Kristen had selected the previous evening. The length didn’t shorten by much, but this time she got layers and highlights, red ones, the same color they painted her toenails. Her mother would have been so scandalized.

That was just why Kristen didn’t mention the idea of going to her normal hairstylist, Mrs. Hankon. Not only was she as old as the moon, but she was also the biggest gossip and would have told Kristen’s mother everything. Then the questions would have come, along with a full-on panic attack, no doubt, and Kristen didn’t want her mother to worry.

Though, it was her who worried when she got back and Gwen’s bedroom door was still shut, the house quiet. Too quiet. It was nearly evening, and Kristen had a sick feeling something was wrong. She creeped down the hall to press an ear to Gwen’s door but couldn’t catch a hint of sound.

That left her worried. Of course, she could be overreacting. She didn’t know, and she didn’t dare knock or enter. Instead, Kristen went back down to the dining room, where her sewing was set up. She hadn’t even made it through her first seam before Gwen came stumbling in, grumbling about all the racket.

“What are you up to?” Gwen scowled as she shuffled into the room dressed in a pair of men’s boxers and a tank. “Sewing? What the hell are you
⎯
oh God. What is
this
?”

Gwen held up one of the dresses Kristen had already finished altering so that it now cinched in better at the waist. She’d also removed the high-neck collar for a nice large square one and cut the cap sleeves back into thick straps. It was absolutely adorable as far as she was concerned, and she even had material left over to make herself a matching hairband.

“Are you making clothes for the poor?” Gwen glanced over at her hopefully, but the depression returned to her gaze as Kristen shook her head.

“No. These are for me. I’m modernizing.”

“Uh-huh.” Gwen’s frown deepened as she studied Kristen. “Well, that explains the 1990’s hairdo, but not the 1960’s wardrobe you’re creating.”

“I like it.” Kristen stuck her chin in the air, pulling on every bit of confidence she had to stand up to her cousin. “And I’m going to wear it.”

“Where? To church?” Gwen snickered.

“I didn’t go to church today.”

That was another thing her mother better not find out about. She’d called and invited Kristen to church and lunch last night, but Kristen had assured her mother that she wanted to start going to church in Pittsview as a way to get to know the town, but instead, she’d spent the morning getting to know herself.

“Oh, wow. Somebody is about to be struck by lightning.” Gwen rolled her eyes and chunked the dress back onto the table before turning to head into the kitchen.

Feeling compelled to follow, Kristen first paused to straighten the dress back out so it couldn’t wrinkle then she headed into the kitchen to find Gwen pulling the coffee pot out of its maker and beginning the process of brewing up a new pot.

“So…did you have fun yesterday?” Kristen started, not certain how to ask what she really wanted to know but sure she didn’t want to come right out with it.

“Yeah.” Gwen shrugged. “I got burnt. I got drunk. I got laid. Just another Saturday.”

Kristen stared, reeling between each one of those revelations and not certain on how to respond to any of them. So, she chose to ignore them all and plastered a smile on her face.

“I had fun.”

“Yeah?” Gwen quirked a brow at her as she paused to snicker. “Nearly drowning is your definition of fun?”

“No.” Kristen almost laughed at that bit of absurdity before shyly adding on. “But after…”

“Oh, you mean cracking Brandon’s head open.” Gwen laughed outright at that as she turned back to her coffee. “I warned those boys that you were a good girl.”

“Excuse me?” Kristen blinked, not completely certain by what she meant but sure that it wasn’t good.

“You know, a virgin. Oh, there is no need to blush over it,” Gwen tossed over her shoulder as Kristen felt her face go up in flames. “Virginity is a rare and very precious commodity in this city.”

“I…I…”

“And I told those boys none of them would be claiming any prize until they put a ring on your finger,” Gwen assured her, but Kristen did not feel comforted in the slightest.

“That…that…”

“But you know, men will be men, and they’ve got their stupid competitions, so you’ll probably have to crack a few more heads open until they get the message.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Kristen finally managed to latch onto a thought and get it said. “What competition?”

“The deputies’ challenge.” Gwen turned around as she rested back against the counter to offer Kristen a smugly amused smile. “They’ve got a competition going to see who can pop your cherry first.”

Kristen felt sick. Instantly sick at that revelation. It had all been a game. What had happened between her in the deputy had been nothing more than him trying to win some stupid bet? She’d never been so crushed. It was as though the joy and possibility that the day had held had suddenly soured into a nightmare, and all she wanted to do was flee from the memories of how stupid she’d been.