Co-written with Michelle. (Working title.)


the boy was too young, sinfully young to be that beautiful. i remember seeing him for the first time outside of the diner i held down for a while out on route six, about twenty miles from the nearest town. it was a modest little place; white tiled floors and raggedy old red stools that squeaked unbearably when you spun them. we didn't serve much, as there weren't too many visitors. some give-or-take hashbrowns and the best cup of coffee this side of the rio grande, but that was about it.

this is where i first saw him, working on a drowsy sunday morning and wishing i'd worn my old denim instead of this disgustingly clingy skirt. he came in alone, clad in a pair of tight-fitting, dirt-cloaked levis and an ill-fitted blue plaid button down, halfway tucked in and halfway hung in an unorganized mess about his hips. it too showed signs of dusty plains and a long travel. his hair was a dark, mutt-blonde, wind-blown, and hung in stringy clumps about his shoulders in dire need of a good brushing. Topped with a thick suede Stetson, it framed his perfectly tanned jawline in just the right way and gave him the air of having been around the block a few times.

but he couldn't have been more than sixteen.

i immediately figured he was a texan boy. they blew through here all the time with shining eyes on their way to santa fe, and he was most likely a bull rider or a cattle roper or something of the sort. those boys never cleaned up, but they looked perfect nonetheless. and they got me every goddamned time.

he slid onto a stool at the end of the bar, taking his hat off and placing it to the side so he could scrape that mange of hair back into a low riding ponytail. rubbing his forehead in what seemed to be overwhelming fatigue, his dirt-caked hands left dark streaks over his skin and he sighed a long, painstaking sigh.

i smiled slightly and sauntered to his end of the counter. "hey cowboy, what's it gonna be this mornin'?"

he looked up at me and grinned charmingly, replying with a thick antebellum drawl. "it's gonna be strong and black."

i raised an eyebrow and smirked, fetching the coffee pot. "ain't you a little young to be takin it black?" i asked, placing a mug before him and filling it to the brim.

taking a long swig, his face contorted angrily and he winced, putting the cup down and nodding with a sheepish smile. "yeah, yeah i am."

i laughed and lay a handful of sugar packets at his side. "want any eats, boy?"

"it's zac," he corrected. "and yeah; two over, three strips of bacon and some jelly toast."

"jelly toast, huh?" i couldn't help but smile again, writing out the order and sticking it on the back kitchen counter so lou could cook up a halfway decent meal. "a real man's breakfast."

"hey, now," he defended with an impish glistening to his eyes. "i know lotsa guys who like jelly on their toast, an' they're ridin' thousand pound bulls that run through fencing like mack trucks. better'n what you might be up against at this hoppin' country diner you got here."

"ohh, i got a pitbull here, do i?" i teased, leaning back and absorbing the deep echo of his voice as it delivered a bite of sarcasm to my backhanded comment. "santa fe better watch out, they got a live one comin'."

zac cocked his head in curiosity and studied me carefully. "how'd you know that's where i was headed?"

i laughed, shaking my head at his naivete. "aw, come on. you boys're all the same, blowin' through here like a bat outta hell to be famous cowboys and drooled over by hundreds of little cowgirls in short skirts and thick boots. the story's the same every time."

"yeah?" he asked with a grin.

"yeah," i replied, idly clicking my fingernails and wiping off the counter for the eighth time that morning, despite the three visitors i'd seen.

his jovial expression widened and he leaned on his elbows, tucking his hands under his chin. "so then tell me about myself, miss ...?"

"claudia," i supplied with a smirk.

"miss claudia. since you're so educated on the cowboys headed to santa fe to be famous, tell me who i am."

"well for starters..." i leaned back on the counter, the dirty white of my keds pressing against the sticky floor. "you talk big but you ain't nothin' but a lil' ole teddybear inside that thick skin a'yours."

he grinned up at me through his eyelashes (HAHA) and sipped his coffee slowly. "is that so?"

"yep. and i'm bettin' you got a real worried momma back home thinkin' of you right now."

he shrugged and nodded, swallowing. "you sure are right about that one."

i smiled, grabbing his plate of food, and sliding it across the counter to him. "i always am."

he laughed and shoveled a fork of eggs into his mouth. "any other predictions, miss claudia?"

he was so beautiful when he laughed. deep creases in his cheeks that showed how often he smiled. the gaps between his teeth made me weak, his dark eyes staring at me making me blush. it was true i had a special soft spot for the cowboys that come in here every couple a'weeks, but this one was different.

i studied him slowly as he licked at his jelly covered fingers. inhaling deeply, i licked my lips. "you got a pretty little cowgirl back home?" this wasn't really a prediction, but curiousity.

"ah," he said, washing down the rest of his breakfast. "that's where you're wrong, miss claudia." he wriggled his eyebrows at me and i tried to hold back my grin, unsuccessful. i could feel it spread across my cheeks and giggled gently.

"first time for everythin', i assume," i replied, my eyes twinkling.

he nodded and paused for a minute, before continuing. "how about you tell me somethin' about yourself, now?"

"what'd you like to know?"

"well... " he seemed reluctant, and his eyebrows furrowed. but a minute later his expression changed to confidence. "you ever been to santa fe, miss claudia?"

i was slightly taken aback by his obvious suggestion, and nervously played with the ruffle hem on my apron. "well... no, i don't reckon i have."

"ever thought of takin' a trip on out there?" he asked slowly, his expression serious.

i avoided his gaze and wiped down the counter again, wondering how exactly i was s'posed to answer a question like that. i felt his rough hand rest on my arm, and turned to him slowly.

"i reckon that counter ain't gonna get any cleaner," he said gently, meeting my eyes.

i nodded and swallowed. "i don't even know your name..."

"zac," he smirked.

i grinned, and locked eyes with him. "well, zac, i have been fixin' for a lil' vacation... i reckon santa fe's as good as any."

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