Read For the Love of a Lush (Lush No. 2) for Free Online Page A

me. For what seems like hours, neither of us moves. Then, my breathing finally slowing, I push off the car and walk around to the driver’s side, where I get in and start the engine. When I look in the rearview mirror, he’s returned to digging and it’s as if the whole episode never happened. As if he and I never happened.

Walsh
    I CAN hear the car pull away, and I’m literally in physical pain at the idea that Tammy might be heading back to Portland. As much as I don’t want to be around her, I don’t want to be away from her either. Seeing her there, leaning back against the car, her breasts straining against the thin fabric of her t-shirt, her long, smooth legs bare to mid-thigh, glowing in the spring sun… It nearly puts me into the hole I’m digging. My chest hurts. My eyes burn. My head throbs. I wipe my arm across my forehead and push the shovel back into the soil, struggling to regain my rhythm.
    Four hours, two graves, and a really large thermos of water later, I’m resting on the handle of the shovel, watching the sun set below the horizon when I hear another car approach. I turn to see Mike pulling up in the brand-new tricked-out black pickup he bought when he came to stay here. He wouldn’t use that damn thing for work if it were the last truck in Texas, but he loves to drive it around and feel "cowboy." Jackass.
    "You’re not going to be able to get out of bed tomorrow, dude," he shouts as he gets out of the cab.
    I wait until he’s closer. "I lost any sensation from the waist up hours ago, man." I shrug as he reaches me and looks down into the hole I’ve just finished.
    He scans the others nearby, neatly marked with wooden stakes and twine. "Ronny planning on having a lot of animals die this spring?" he asks.
    "I don’t know. I just dug. And kept digging until about ten minutes ago. It’s going to be too dark to see what I’m doing soon, so it seemed like time to quit."
    He nods, shoves his hands in the front pockets of his jeans, and scuffs a boot along the dirt. "Her car’s gone," he tells me quietly.
    I turn my back to him as I pick up my filthy t-shirt from the ground, shake it out, and then put it back on. "Yeah. I saw her drive out."
    "So you good?"
    I think about it for a moment. I’m nowhere near good, but what should I tell Mike? The old Walsh would say it was all fine, not wanting to disrupt anyone’s mood or fun. The new Walsh knows that’s not the best way to handle things, but what is? How the hell do you let it out and still hold yourself together?
    I choose my words carefully, trying to walk that line between honesty and TMI. "It was hard. But I think I need to talk to her more. It’s part of working my steps. Make amends and all that."
    "Cool," he answers as he takes his baseball cap off and scratches at the mass of thick, dark hair underneath. "Leanne told me she’s staying in town at the Yellow Rose boarding house."
    "That place along First Ave?"
    "Yep. Leanne got Tammy a room there."
    "Shit. That’s a disaster waiting to happen. Tammy’s not really the small quaint-B-and-B type."
    "Yeah, I’m wondering what’ll happen when she starts asking where the towel warmers are." Mike snorts out a burst of laughter.
    "Or the valet parking," I add as I feel a grin start to slide across my face.
    "The minibar," Mike tosses out as he picks up my shovel and heads to his truck.
    "Pay-per-view!"
    "Concierge service!"
    We both laugh harder and continue listing luxury hotel amenities until we’re bumping down the road toward the house for dinner, my back and shoulders aching but my heart soothed just the tiniest bit.
     
    A FTER DINNER, I take a quick shower in our bunkhouse and come back into the bedroom to find Mike sitting cross-legged on his bunk, strumming his guitar, a notepad and pencil nearby.
    "When you going to let me hear the whole thing?" I ask.
    He shrugs as he adjusts a peg to tune the guitar further. "I don’t know. The melody’s not the hard part. I know Joss