Hey marshmallows!! As you may know Puerto Rico got hit real bad with Hurricane Maria, and phone and internet services haven't been too stable for the past month. I took this opportunity to write a loooong ass chapter for y'alls enjoyment and I hope you guys like it!!❤️❤️
Note: I edited the previous chapters (just a few tweaks, nothing big), so y'all might wanna go back a bit and re-read 'em ;)))
See if you can name our special guest in the comments! 💖
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
The young man tapped a worn, brown boot on the ground anxiously beside you, a hand hugging his beloved hat to his chest, the other close to his face as he bit his thumb nail, a jittery action he did unconsciously when nervous.
Even as the sun had begun to hide and the night had started to crawl along the edges of the horizon, the air still felt dry and hot, enough to make you sweat a bit, but not as much as this poor boy was doing. His behavior closely portrayed a small panic attack.
He stopped for a few seconds, scratching his head absentmindedly as he looked away from you briefly, a deep frown on his tan features. You cleared your throat softly, awkwardly rubbing your arm as you glanced at Mick beside you, who was currently stuffing a paper towel in his nose, and once again stared at the boy's pick up truck.
The back window was positively shattered, leaving one to think it might've been caused by an angry team of Little Leagues Baseball players, not a woman on her mid-twenties with an old baseball and a insane throwing arm.
The boy wiped his face with the red bandanna around his neck, fanning his face with the hat as he stared hard at his truck, beginning to regret not hopping in it and driving away as fast as he could from the crazy lady and the lanky man beside her.
"My pa's gonna kill me.." he began, looking back at you for the first time in ten minutes. You cringed inwardly, a deep frown on your features as you looked back at Mick, who gave you a worried glance in return.
Thinking back to what had happened, you sighed.
~*~ flashback ~*~
The chipped-red pickup truck screeched to a halt, tires lifting sand and dust from the ground below them.
You walked closer tentatively, Mick trailing behind you.
Almost reaching the driver's door, Mick blocked your path, insisting you let him talk to the person first, for safety of course.
As he walked forth a young man stepped out of the old vehicle, red bandanna tied around his neck and a worn stetson covering his wavy, brown locks. If you hadn't known better, you would've thought the boy jumped through a T.V. straight from an old western film.
Mick began, "S'cuse me sir, we're very sor-!!"
WHAM!
The young man punched Mick straight in the nose, both their hats sent flying from the sheer speed and impact.
"Hey!! What was that for?!?" You screamed furiously, kneeling down next to Mick, checking his injuries.
His nose was beginning to turn purple and it bled a little, but besides the obvious, he seemed to be okay.
"Y'all have no right to wreck ma' truck like that!" The boy screamed, pointing at his truck for emphasis. "That's the least he deserves!"
You stood up angrily, standing in front of Mick in a protective stance. His heart couldn't have fluttered more at the gesture.
"I threw that baseball." You began, hand on your chest for emphasis. "We were trying to get your attention and you wouldn't stop.."
"Why the fuck would you do that??" The boy asked desperately, a frown etched on his tan features that closely resembled deep worry over anger.
"I don't know man, it was the only thing I could think about!" You yelled, growing more anxious by the second. This was not going as you'd planned, and the current situation was beginning to stress you out quickly.
Mick began to slowly get up beside you, still catching his breath on all fours on the ground. You offered your hand in help, and he complied, grasping your hand as securely as he could without hurting you.
Helping him to a full stand, you kept your grip on his strong hand, a silent question showing on your frowning features as you looked up at him.
Are you alright?
Mick nodded in response, giving a small smile.
The young man took this moment of distraction to take a small step back, inching closer to his dull, red truck.
You noticed the sudden silence from the boy and took a quick glance in his direction, trying to think of a way to convince the young man to help you and Mick.
The scene made you do a double take, realizing the boy was beginning to dash for his truck, the intention of leaving you both behind clear as the night skies with each stomp of his tacky cowboy boots.
You bolted toward the young man, ignoring Mick's "Wait!!" behind you as you once again did the first thing that came to mind in this moment of desperation.
Tripping briefly over his feet and grabbing his brown stetson, the boy almost threw himself inside the driver's seat of his red pickup truck, slamming the door shut and desperately trying to start up his old vehicle, which should really not start acting up now of all times.
You pulled on his door's handle, banging your fist desperately on its small window. "Please! We've been here for days and we need your help!".
The boy stared in horror, trying uselessly to start up his truck once again. Slamming a fist against the wheel in frustration, the boy had a sudden idea and ducked beneath his seat for a moment.
When the boy bent down on his seat, a long, furry muzzle and a wet nose met your quizzical face in his place. The shepherd dog tilted it's head to the side in confusion, before it gave a loud bark, muffled by the truck's door, it's tongue hanging from the side of it's mouth and scruffy tail wagging happily against the opposite door's window.
You cooed at the curious canine and soon enough, the truck's engine purred to life, and you figured he'd cut and reconnected a few wires from under the wheel to start up the truck, just like in action movies.
Realizing what was about to happen, you used the last idea that came to mind and ran towards the front of the pick up, leaning over its hood, arms outstretched as far as they could as if it would help you stop the young man from leaving.
"Let us explain, please! Only five minutes, I promise.."
The boy frowned, equal parts angry and confused, and his dog barked again cheerily, a strong contrast between both of their expressions. Mick then decided to step in.
"Okay, sheila, that's enough.."
You felt a pair of lean yet strong arms hug your waist securely behind your back and your heart drummed in anticipation, as Mick lifted you up and off the truck's hood, as the cowboy stared unsurely.
"He's gonna leave us behind!!" You thrashed against his grip, beginning to lose your strength. "This could be our only shot, Mick!"
"(Y/n), luv, please calm down." Mick muttered softly, soothing against your ear. "Just breathe, okay?"
You took a deep breath, panic and anxiety being replaced by sad acceptance; acceptance of the fact that your only chance out of this scorching, unruly place was slipping through your fingers.
"We're sorry for tha' inconvenience.." Mick began behind you, "Please, jus' leave, a'right?.."
The boy nodded, frowning worriedly as he set his truck on drive and pushed down the emergency brakes.
Walking back towards his van and placing you gently on the floor, Mick turned you toward him by your shoulder and you gave one last glance at the young man's truck before you looked back at Mick.
After placing his hat crookedly over his wild, mahogany locks and adjusting the side view mirror, guilt began to replace the young man's furious thoughts. He looked back at you both, silently observing as Mick held your shoulder with one hand, the other tenderly holding your cheek as he tried to comfort you.
Memories of his own lover invaded his mind, and how bad the scolding would be if they found out he'd left someone in need behind. He smiled softly, remembering dark eyes and bright smiles, and he felt angry at himself for being so selfish. His companion beside him placed a paw on his thigh and they shared a look.
"What?"
"Boof."
"Ah know, Honey, but she wasn't very nice either.."
"Boof!"
"No, Honeybun, and that's final."
The dog whined in response, scratching his pants anxiously and nosing his cheek tenderly.
The boy sighed and smiled softly, scratching Honeybun behind her ear. Looks like his Pa will just have to suck it up and accept a new crack on his beloved truck and two new house guests.
~*~*~*~*~
"Mick, we could die out here!" Your tone raised slightly, "We can't live off of snack bars and coffee forever..". You stared into his eyes sadly as he traced your cheek with his thumb ever so gently.
"Oi know, sheila, but whot if that' guy had a gun or somethin'!" He explained exasperatedly, trying to keep a calm tone as to not stress you out more. "Then we woulda' died faster with a bullet through our foreheads for a bloody car window.."
" 'Scuse me.." a throat clearing and a low mutter attracted your attention, turning to your side to meet the young man's face, his eyes everywhere but your own, finding the desert floor more interesting at the moment. He held his hat pressed against his chest with both of his hands as he dragged a boot across the sand, worry painted on his soft frown.
"Ah wanted to apologize..."
~*~ back to present ~*~
You shook your head, as you remembered the ordeal, trying to clear your mind and staying positive.
"I'm so sorry, I- we needed to get your attention, and I mean, that's all I could think of doing since you wouldn't slow down.." you explained, hoping he'd understand and not regret helping you out. "Our van broke down and we need help towing it back to civilization, anywhere really, we just need a good mechanic and somewhere to stay for the night.."
As Mick bent down and picked up his hat from the ground, you approached the boy cautiously, placing a hand on his shoulder. "I promise we'll pay for the damage, but please, help us get out of here."
The boy looked back at you but remained silent, considering his options before he let out a defeated sigh.
"Well.. Ah mean, 's not like ah can leave yah here.." He shrugged, placing his own worn hat on his messy, brown locks. "And speaking of, 'm mighty sorry Ah scrammed like that, Ah shoulda' thought about ya' guys too.." the boy muttered, shame evident in his tone.
"If it's any consolation, I probably would've done the same, I mean.. I was kinda lunatic, honestly.." you gestured with your hands, shrugging as the boy gave a silent chuckle.
"We both freaked out a bit.." the boy stated, a small grin spread across his tanned cheeks. "But enough about that! Does yer gent here have a rope ah can borrow?.."
Mick froze at the phrase 'your gent', taking off his hat and fanning his face quickly, as he cleaned his bloody nose with a paper towel.
His actions didn't go unnoticed by your sharp eyes, smiling innocently as you replied.
"Yes he does, actually!" Mick's heart fluttered at the fact that you didn't correct the young man.
"Sweetie, could you get a rope from one of the crates? You know, the ones we picked up at Mann Co.?.." you began, turning back to face him fully.
Even though he had to indeed fan himself harder after being called 'sweetie', he caught that serious glint in your eyes, mostly referring to the Mann Co. crates and what was really inside of them.
"Oh.. she knows..' he thought, nodding along and turning back to his van.
While Mick went to grab a rope from one of the Mann Co. crates, you stayed behind with the boy, trying to begin a light conversation.
"So... where are you from?"
The boy looked back at you, lifting his hat a bit from his eyes as he answered.
"Ah wus born an' raised here in New Mexico, a lil' ways off from Teufort. Small town kid, my Pa works with the police, not much of a cop, though.."
You listened intently, as Mick rummaged through his many drawers and crates to see if he could find a bloody rope.
Opening several crates with his Kukri and carelessly throwing out the contents, he found what he was looking for, pulling out a sturdy-looking, yellow rope from the bottom of the wooden box.
He smiled as he admired your determination, his heart set a flutter as he remembered your protective self, standing before him defensively.
He'd been so proud when he saw your pestering had payed off, and the boy turned back to offer a hand and his tiny smile grew into a schoolgirl grin and he couldn't control it any longer.
Oh how he loved that tender look you gave him when you helped him stand up after that painful punch and how you leaned into his touch when he cradled your soft cheek against his hand. He was getting all jittery just thinking about it!
Now he'd found a new purpose, and a new flicker of hope shone bright in his heart as he realized that now, you two would be safe and sound, under an actual roof with warm food and cozy blankets, and how you'd be more relaxed and happy, and he felt his cheeks warm as he thought about your stunning (e/c) eyes and your beautiful smile.
With a sudden boost of optimism, Mick hopped off his beloved camper van, rope hung on his shoulder as he walked back toward you with a more relaxed pace. He smiled as he adjusted the rope on his shoulder and looked back towards you. "(Y/n)! Oi found a-.."
He watched, as you leaned on the cowboy's shoulder for support and laughed about something he hadn't heard, and he felt his heart sink a little as you smiled at the young cowboy.
"...rope.."
"Haha! Poor you, Jesse. Your dad must've been furious when he found out you stole his truck!"
'Jesse? When did she even get his name?'
The young man grinned, sharing a chuckle as he scratched his head. "Heh, yeah, got grounded for a month after that! Got dish-washing duty until I finished my sentence.."
"(Y/n), Oi.. Oi found the, umm.. the rope, ya' needed.." Mick handed you the rope and looked away, and you noticed something was off when he didn't look at your face.
"Oh! thanks, Mickey!" you smiled, trying to ease the tension in the air. "Let me tie this up so we can take a look at your nose there.."
"No need, ma'am.." the young man intersected, adjusting his hat absentmindedly over his eyes. "Ah'll tie it up for y'all, you go on ahead and help your husband, and once again, Ah'm mighty sorry for that nasty punch there, A-Ah wasn't rightly thinkin' straight.." the boy frowned sadly as he rubbed his arm and you dismissed his response with a shake of your head.
"Don't worry about it, none of us were, really.." you shrugged, "we'll be right back, and thank you!" You said, passing the rope to him and pushing Mick back to the camper.
Ushering Mick to take a seat on his small bed, you searched through his drawers as he took off his hat and placed it beside him. You returned to him with a First Aid kit on your hands, leaving it next to his hat for the time being, and bending down to his level, you held his cheek tenderly, turning his face both sides to inspect the damage.
A frown crossed your features when he still wouldn't make eye contact with you, and taking out the necessary equipment, you brought up the situation in a hopefully indirect question.
"Is everything okay, Mick? You've been quiet for a while.."
It wasn't that he was jealous or anything, he just felt unsure about himself. He wasn't as young and good looking as the cowboy. He didn't have long, wavy locks or a charming smile, and he feared he'd just end up in the friend zone against someone like 'Jesse'.
Okay, maybe he was a little jealous. But not for the young man, but because he thought literally anyone else would have a better shot with you than him.
Mick straightened up but kept a somewhat serious expression, clearing his throat briefly.
"Look, it's not tha' he's a bad kid or anythin, but O-Oi just, don't know if Oi trust 'im tha' much, y' know?.."
You pressed a small cloth dabbed with alcohol on his nose and he flinched, relaxing his tense shoulders when he got used to the stinging. "Sorry, Mickey.." you stated sadly, to which he dismissed with a shake of his head and a small smile. " 's alroight, no need ta' worry, sheila."
You resumed your answer to his worries as you rummaged through the kit, looking for more wipes and alcohol. "Listen Mick, it's logical you don't trust him, he punched you in the face.." you began and he shrugged in agreement. "But I got to talk to him, and he looks like a good kid. He lives near Teufort with his dad, who is a cop, might I add, and I mean, who can get better than that, am I right?".
"Should Oi remind ya he also punched me in the nose.." Mick answered, as he pointed to his face.
"Fair point." You continued, as you once again cleaned his bloodied nose, "But I also shattered his truck's window with a baseball."
"A'roight we're gettin' off track here." Mick gestured with his hands, something you've grown to love when he was deep in his thoughts and voiced them out loud. "Moy point is, Oi'm gonna keep an eye on 'im, 'cause Oi don't trust tha' ankle bita' much."
"And my point is, that won't be necessary since he looks like a nice guy.. and his dad's a cop..". You covered his nose with a small bandage and booped it softly, smiling as you supported your weight on his knees and stared into his eyes. "We're gonna be fine Mick, just you wait and see..".
Mick could stare into the deep (e/c)s of your eyes for hours, and his will to stand back up and get away began to slip from his grip. He realized he'd stared long enough and gave a breathless chuckle, feeling his cheeks warm in embarrassment when his smile wouldn't fade.
You felt your own cheeks heat up when Mick scooted a bit forward.
Just a little closer.
A sudden tingle of anticipation rose in your gut, and you found yourself trapped in place as the handsome man before you inched closer.
Soft, yet firm hands found their way onto yours, their warmth comforting against the chilly, night air of the New Mexico desert.
The dim yellow glow of the van's lights sculpted his most prominent features. Strong jaw clenched tight, as if it would help calm the fluttering deep in his chest, soft cheekbones tinged with gentle redness that gave away his flustered thoughts and blue eyes appeared almost green against the soft, yellow contrast.
Nervous anticipation gave way to warm excitement, as you also leaned even closer.
Closer to his warmth, closer to those dashing bright eyes that seemed to pull you in.
You felt his warm breath against your face, drawing nearer and nearer towards your lips.
He held your hands a little tighter, trying to anchor his mind to reality, still not quite believing this was actually happening. He couldn't care at the moment if it was truly happening or if it was his imagination, he just hoped he wouldn't wake up if it was all a dream.
Realizing how his presence made you feel, what his touch made you dream of, you understood, finally understood what your heart had been telling you for days, weeks even, and it encouraged you even more as you held his hands back and began to close the gap betwee-
"Uhhh, sorry to interrupt, but Ah kinda have to head back home before my pa butchers me, and Honeybun seems to be getting awful lonely over there.." His speculation was met by a distant howl.
You stood up abruptly, snapping your head toward the young cowboy, who stuck his head from behind the camper's side and peeked through the door.
"W-we'll be right there, Jesse, just give us a moment.."
The boy nodded and walked back to his van, checking the rope he'd tied from the front of the van to the back of his truck, before hopping back inside the worn vehicle.
Mick had packed up the First Aid kit when you turned back to him, beginning to stand up from his place on the small bed. But before you stepped out into the dark, cold night, you hesitated and turned back to Mick.
He was about to place the kit into one of his top drawers, when you leaned close to him and placed a soft kiss on his cheek. You turned back hurriedly, giving him a quick glance and a smile as you stepped out of the van to meet Jesse at the truck.
That was close, oh so close he could still feel your lips ghosting over his and his cheek tingling from your kiss. He had to unbutton the first few buttons of his red dress-shirt, leaning on his dresser and fanning his face, hoping the gentle breeze would cool down his burning face.
He couldn't help but smile, no longer needing to feel jealous about luscious long hair or dashing grins.
Stepping out of his van and placing his old, brown hat on his head, he turned to the red pickup truck and thought..
He may have a chance after all.
I bet $5 you were very confused when Mick stuffed his nose with a paper towel in the first part.
Don't forget to vote and comment if you liked this chapter!! And as always, love you my marshmallows!!❤️❤️❤️