The writing is going well! I have clocked in at 11,000 words.
In the first excerpt, you met Stella, who wanted to climb the water tower during the day as a parting experience before she blew out of her small town of Holly, Missouri. Her plan to leave is delayed when her grandmother is sent home for hospice care.
Prior to this excerpt, Stella has met Dane at the garage where he works. Despite a pretty serious attraction, Dane’s current girl arrives to establish her territory. Stella isn’t interesting in fighting over a man, so she lets it go.
Chapter Five marks the first time we’ve heard from Dane in his voice. He goes out with Darlene, all the while knowing something has just happened with Stella, and feeling pretty wary about how his girlfriend will react to the threat.
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Dane bought himself some time by checking the other tires. He didn’t want to look Darlene in the face, afraid his withdrawal might show. She’d been all right for the two weeks since he’d come to town, and he’d made a show of keeping her with the gift. But her claws were out, and after Stella’s obvious interest, no doubt she’d try to sink them into him.
His boss seemed to understand, and instead of releasing him as Darlene had suggested, asked him to vacuum the car before he took off.
Darlene rolled her eyes and settled in a chair in the waiting area. Dane attached the wand to the vacuum, taking great care in cleaning the creases of the already impeccable seats. He didn’t put too much stock in women, overall. The one love of his life had run off inexplicably, and not even for another man. She’d just…gone. Didn’t want anything to do with him.
Dane shook it off. Five years gone. Screw her. Too immature, or messed up, or whatever. Water under the bridge. And if Stella made him think of Pam, then that was one hell of a sign. Run the other way, fast.
He glanced at Darlene. She’d been all right, not too clingy, just fun. He didn’t blame her for reacting sort of strong to Stella’s intrusion. In a town this small, those two probably had a history. She dug through her purse, extracting a nail file. Not so bad to look at. Interesting enough in the sack. She’d do for a time.
He shut off the vacuum. In fact, she’d do for tonight. Quite nicely.
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They rode the highway back to Holly. Dane had wanted to go somewhere bigger, and Darlene had been up for a bit of traveling on the bike, about an hour to the next town. To her credit, she hadn’t complained about the discomfort of the ride, even though he knew she had to feel it. She wasn’t used to the rumble of an engine between her legs for long periods. She’d be sore tomorrow.
Dinner had been pleasant enough. Small talk. She hadn’t brought up Stella, or been bitchy. She carried that perfume bottle in her purse like it was some great treasure. She’d pulled it out after dinner and excused herself to spritz it again. Not that she needed it. He might be regretting the purchase before long.
Summer was long gone, and while the days were warm, the chill of night bit his cheeks as they approached town. Darlene kept her face in his back and clutched him tightly. Girls wrapping themselves around him on the bike was one of the reasons he loved motorcycles. That and the view, and the smells. A bit of oil, lots of pine, the wetness of a hidden pond in the dark. When they slowed, he could catch that perfume. Hopefully it had faded a bit.
The sky over the treeline was a jagged field of stars. In the distance, he could make out the craggy outline of the Ozarks. He’d made a good decision, leaving Texas, his oppressive boss at the Harley shop, the dead mother. Ryker had convinced him at the funeral to come on up to Holly, start over.
He didn’t have much tying him down other than a girlfriend who’d pleaded that he stay. But he hadn’t relaxed into her, moved in any closer than he had to. Something kept him away, distant, like the way you approach a stray dog or an overheating radiator. So he’d moved on, using his mother and brother as the excuse.
Darlene tugged on his jacket. He turned his head slightly, and she pointed to a dirt road to the right. He nodded and slowed, turning onto it, dodging the worst of the ruts.
The road narrowed, so little used that the trees encroached on them, occasionally whipping across his face like a slap. He slowed again, but a break in the trees revealed a ramshackle cabin. He pulled up. “This where we’re headed?”
Darlene swung her leg over the bike, stiff and awkward in her steps. Not a complainer. He liked her better than he had even earlier in the day, or yesterday when he’d gone to the perfume place. Her hair was calmer now, the hair spray blown right out of it, now brown and long and flowing down the sides of her head instead of all high on top.
He killed the bike and followed her. “This yours?” he asked. No telling what sort of squatter could be living there. It looked like an old hunting cabin.
“My uncle’s. He off in Colorado.”
She lifted a flower pot, showering dead leaves across the porch, and extracted a key. The moonlight lit the face of the cabin, but barely. She seemed to know it all by feel. Dane figured she’d brought a man or two out there before. He didn’t care. This was about the here and now.
The door opened with a squeal that set his teeth on edge. She flipped the light, but it didn’t come on. “He often shuts off the power,” she said. “We can find the box if you want.” She turned, fumbling with something, then a beam of light crossed the room. “Or we can go by flashlight.”
“Works for me.” Dane stepped in the cabin, musty and dank. He stifled a sneeze and closed the door behind him.
Darlene took his hand and led him to a sofa. This place was a good find, actually, as Darlene lived with her mom still. Seemed like half of Holly was grown and still at home. And Dane bunked with his brother, who seemed to have a different woman there every weekend. He didn’t know where he even found them all. After a month, Dane still didn’t have a good sense of the town’s size, or the number of available girls.
But without even a car, privacy had been tough to come by. Even though they’d been together two weeks, she hadn’t brought him here before, making do with quickies while her mom was shopping or playing bridge next door. Or taking over Ryker’s bedroom at their rundown duplex during lunch breaks. Maybe she hadn’t trusted him before, and wisely so, to be alone in the middle of nowhere. Changing her mind about it probably had to do with Stella.
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