Free Promise Me by Cora Brent Page A

a half hour of privacy?” 
    Kira winked at me and pulled me out the door after I grabbed a pair of Rachel’s sandals. 
    Though Rachel’s Airstream had been on the warm side, it was nothing compared to the blazing heat outside.  I looked up at the brilliant blue sky, marveling over the fact that it was possible to be this hot at only nine am. 
    “Want to come to the house?”  Kira asked. “I think later I’m going to give those damned ginger snaps another try.” 
    “Oh,” I said with surprise.  “Is that what those were supposed to be?” 
    “Yeah,” Kira said slowly.  “I thought molasses were the same thing as vinegar.  I was wrong,” she admitted with a shrug. 
    The door to one of the Coleman trailers smacked open and Teague emerged, looking a little worse for the wear.  He ran a hand through his graying greasy hair and offered up a glare in our direction before lighting a cigarette. 
    “Those’ll kill you,” Kira called helpfully. 
    He smiled.  “Somethin’s gotta.” The stick glowed between his dirty fingers.  “Where’s the man?”
    Kira smiled.  “Recovering.” 
    “Christ almighty,” Teague spat.  “You guys are like fucking rabbits.”
    Kira strutted in front of him.  “Instead of nursing your jealous streak why don’t you go find a lady of your own?” 
    “Had one,” he smiled.  “Biggest pain in the ass ever walked on two legs.  But damn she gave great head.”  He frowned at me slightly and tipped his cigarette in my direction.  “Fuck. Sorry.” 
    “Shit,” Kira crossed her arms.  “Teague apologizing.  Is that a pig flying over Q Mountain there?”
    Teague glared at her and put out his cigarette on the side of the trailer before heading back inside. 
    She laughed and jerked her head toward the house.  “So how about it?”
    “Yeah,” I said, looking off in the direction of Grayson’s trailer. 
    Kira seemed to read my thoughts. “Maybe you could stop by first.  He’ll be glad to see that you’re doing better.” 
    “Okay,” I chewed my lip. 
    Kira muttered something confusing about chopping more morning wood and then left me on my own. 
    I walked slowly to Grayson’s trailer, feeling very conspicuous and crossing my arms self-consciously.  Up close I could see the trailer was closer to a butterscotch color than beige.  The contours of its structure combined with the small, round windows gave it an oddly space age look.  Two objects which looked like gigantic thread spools sat underneath a thin awning which stretched from the door about ten feet out.  The small sapling next to the trailer seemed oddly placed. 
    I ran my hand under the fringe of the tree’s small branches and with a sigh rapped on the door.  I wasn’t sure how awkward an encounter this would be; the last time Grayson had said a word to me was just after I’d crazily torn my dress off and revealed myself to him an d the rest of the men of Defiant. 
    He reached the door in seconds, still shirtless.  Surprise registered on his face when he saw me. 
    “Hold on,” he said gruffly and ducked back into the dark interior.   He returned in a moment, pulling a shirt over his head while opening the door. 
    “You look better,” he smiled at me. 
    I pushed my hair back, still unused to the way it fell lightly into my face instead of being tied back in a heavy braid.  “Thanks,” I said softly. 
    He motioned to the objects outside his door.  “Pull up a spool.”
    “A what?”
    He sat down on the flat surface of one of them.  “They were once cable spools.  Now they double as tables, chairs, whatever.” 
    “Oh,” I sat down carefully on the other one, crossing my legs at the ankle. 
    Grayson’s eyes traveled down my bruised legs and a grimace crossed his face but he tried to hide it a second later.  I felt a bit shy being alone with him and he seemed to sense that, keeping himself at a careful physical distance. 
    I swallowed.  “Thank you,” I