Black Lightning

Here's a brief excerpt from my next book, 'Black Lightning'. Look for it next month!

I was sitting with my eyes closed, focusing on the soothing susurrus of the rain when I sensed a presence behind me. Oddly, I wasn’t frightened; it was a familiar presence. I opened my eyes, able now to see more clearly in the gloom, and turned to smile at the tall figure standing there.

“Hey, Robbie,” I said quietly. “This is beginning to be a habit.” I smiled. I patted the seat of the second chair in invitation. “Come, sit down and keep me company.”

Without a word, he pulled the chair out and sat down, pulling one booted foot up to rest on the opposite knee. Maybe it was the dim light, but he looked younger than he had the other night: the lines at the corner of his eyes less deep, the hair at his temples dark and full. He wore a T-shirt from some 80’s rock band which emphasized his biceps and taut stomach.  I had to blink several times as I looked at him; for some reason he seemed out-of-focus, his edges blurred.

“How’ve you been?” he asked, his voice quiet and mild.

“Pretty much the same.” I chuckled. “Not much new has happened in the last thirty-six hours.”

Robbie nodded and stared out at the rain.

“This is good.” he said, gesturing at the dripping eaves. “We need rain. The pastures were looking real sad. Dad was worried he’d be buying feed for the stock before Thanksgiving.”

“How is your dad? Is he really still running the ranch? I thought for sure he’d retire and let the boys take charge.”

“Dad won’t ever retire. He’ll be calling the shots ‘til the day he dies.” A slight smile pulled at the corner of his mouth, a smile that reminded me poignantly of Ryan. I drew in a sharp breath and looked away.

“Is something wrong?” he asked gently.

“No. No,” I whispered. “It’s just that…” I let my voice trail off.

“I know; believe me, I know.”

Robbie reached out as if to touch my hand, but before he made contact, he gave a slight shake of his head, pulled his hand back, and tucked it between his thigh and the seat of the chair.

“I wonder whatever happened to ole’ Black Lightning.” Robbie mused.

I shot him a look of surprise.

“Black Lightning? Isn’t that the bull…?”

Robbie nodded.

I just stared at him.

“Why on earth would you care?”

There was that smile again.

“I just thought it would be poetic justice if he wound up as shish kebob, or something.”

I snorted out a gasping laugh.

“Oh, my god, that’s an awful thing to say!”

“I know; isn’t it?” he said, unapologetically.

We both fell silent again, an oddly comfortable silence, as if we were old friends, instead of almost strangers.

I don’t know how much time had passed; maybe ten minutes; when Robbie spoke again.

“Sage, I’m so sorry, I can’t stay.” he sighed, regret coloring his words.

I looked at him with surprise.

“I wasn’t expecting you to stay; I wasn’t even expecting to see you. No apology necessary!”

He pushed back his chair and stood up, staring down at me for a long minute before pushing the chair back under the table and tucking both hands into the front pocket of his jeans. Even in the dim light, I couldn’t help but notice he was wearing Ryan’s favorite style: button front, no zipper. A thick leather belt was threaded through the belt loops, fastened with an elaborately tooled silver buckle fully four inches wide.

 I pulled my eyes away from his crotch, heat racing up my neck and into my face. I mentally thanked heaven for the darkness.

“Take care, sweet Sage.” Robbie whispered. His boots made no sound on the concrete as he walked away. I closed my eyes against a sudden, unexpected shaft of pain. When I opened them again, he was gone.