Total pages in book: 19
Estimated words: 17588 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 88(@200wpm)___ 70(@250wpm)___ 59(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 17588 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 88(@200wpm)___ 70(@250wpm)___ 59(@300wpm)
I stop myself, afraid of the answer. Besides, Cadence is nineteen, she’s old enough to be making her own decisions on things like this.
“I’ll be seeing you next week, Carter,” Sally says as she closes the cover on her piano keys. “Maybe we can break into something more modern to encourage you to want to share your voice. Your mother did love the classic western songs, you know.”
“I don’t think me singing Tammy Wynette is going to help me break out of my shell, no offense.”
“I was thinking maybe something by your namesake, perhaps. Wilfred Carter? Or you would do some wonders doing some Johnny Cash too, I’ll have you know.”
“Whatever you think will work, Mrs. Landon. I’m up for singing it, but it’ll still just be for me.”
I head home then, wanting to get myself ready for my date tonight. Being presentable for an appointment with a respectable older woman and being ready for a date with the hottest chick I’ve ever seen are two totally different things.
I find a bolo tie, one that I recently wore to Cash’s wedding. Part of me is jealous that he and Williams have both gotten hitched recently, and the two of them have never seemed happier. I look at my cowboy hat and then put it back, realizing that I might be trying a tad too hard.
I take another shower, to make sure I smell right. A bit of deodorant, topped with a little bit of cologne. Combing my hair just right and making sure I’m clean-shaven. I sort of regret it when I’m done, as that scruff was part of my identity. Oh well, can’t go back now. We’re rolling with clean-shaven and presentable tonight.
I head down the stairs, and Cash is there. He sniffs the air. “Is that cologne I’m smelling?”
“What if it is?”
“Who’s the hot date, little brother?”
“That any of your business? Maybe I just want to look nice for a change.”
“Yeah, you wear cologne on your way to the bar to start shit with some asshole. That’s totally a Carter Rowdy move right there.” He stands up, arms crossed, and repeats himself. “Who’s the hot date?”
“If you’re dying to know, it’s Cadence Landon. Are you happy now, you little snoop?”
“Cadence Landon?”
“Yes?”
“The preacher’s daughter?”
“Yes?”
“Looks like the type of girl to wander into the forests and sing to birds, and the birds sing back to her?”
“...Yes?”
“That doesn't seem to be your type, Carter. She’s a Disney Princess and you’re no Disney Prince.”
I shrug in annoyance. “The hell does that have to do with anything? I asked her out. She said yes. That’s all there is to it.”
He rubs his chin. “It’s just weird to me, is all.”
“If I need your approval, my good lord Cash, I’ll ask for it. What would be my type, according to you?”
He shrugs back. “I don’t know. Someone way more R-rated? Cadence Landon seems G-rated to me. I always saw you with someone who would be as rude, crude, and tattooed as you are. Someone who’d get as piss-drunk as you do and join in on your bar fights. So unless I’m really getting Cadence Landon horribly wrong, I have to say I’m very surprised.”
I let out a long sigh of annoyance. “You ever think maybe I don’t want someone as rough as me? Someone as rowdy as me? That maybe I want someone soft and sweet? Just like Mama used to be?”
Cash thinks to himself for a moment, then nods. “I see. Yeah. I get it. Sorry to give you shit about this, Carter. Hope you go and enjoy your time with her.”
“Glad you got your head out of your ass.”
He rolls his eyes and sits back down in his chair, flipping through the channels again.
I head to my bike, rev it up, then change my mind and hop in my truck. I figure I shouldn’t scare Cadence too much, and we’re going to be out at night anyway so the truck is safer.
I head on over to the Landon house for the second time today. There are two cars in the driveway when I get back. I get slightly nervous as I approach, knowing that both of her parents are home.
Cadence is waiting for me and she opens the door as I step up to it. She has on a glittery blue dress that is every bit as sexy as the more conservative one earlier, and then some. She has an awkward smile and looks very concerned.
I share her concern, because right behind her, standing like a tower, is Carl Landon. The ‘preacher’ that ‘preacher’s daughter’ references.
“Carter Rowdy. How nice to see you,” he says in a tone that I can’t remotely read. “Would you mind coming inside and having a word with me?”
I swallow an audible gulp. “Absolutely, sir.”
This date might be over before it even starts.