Archive of Our Own

“Oh, crap.”

They’re the last words Kate hears before something big and metal slices clean through the windshield and launches them into the air. Ripe for the wind’s picking, the truck rolls across the open field. Rags and gadgets and styrofoam cups of motel coffee tumble along with them inside the cab. 

Tyler shouts out a joke for the viewers at home about how bull riding was clearly the safest of his career choices. Considering the heart attack she’s having, Kate finds it impressive that he can manage to string together any words at all. With the help of a hay bale, the truck stops rolling and lands back onto its wheels. Despite their tumble, the frame and chassis hold strong. Kate figures that he must’ve had the damn thing anointed by a priest.

Behind them, the tornado sputters eastward, waning as it eats its way through a copse of trees. Wind whistles through the spiderweb of cracks in the windshield.  

“You okay?” His face pinched tight with worry, Tyler reaches across the console and brushes her hair out of her face. At her nod of assurance, he huffs a sigh of relief and drags his knuckles against her arm. Though she misses his touch when he retreats, she’s reassured when she feels the slight shake in his fingers against her skin. It’s nice to know he’s just as rattled from the ride.   

“I think the tiller crashed your stream.” Kate motions to the sharp piece of farm equipment currently nestled into the dashboard, inches away from them. He glances at the several cameras rigged up around the vehicle and grunts his agreement.  

“Holy shit!” Boone’s voice cuts through the cab. “We lost visual. Y’all alright?” 

Snatching up the mic, Tyler brings it to his lips, “Augers didn’t deploy.” 

“That’s not an actual answer, you know,” Dani’s voice sounds over the tinny speaker. 

“Yeah, we’re good,” he radios back. “Gonna have to call for a tow, though.”

Scoffs of laughter follow his transmission, wishing him luck on finding anyone before sundown. 

“We’re a mile out,” Dexter says. “Kate, you want us to swing by and pick you up?”

She reaches for the mic, but Tyler scoots back against his door to keep hold while flashing that killer smile of his.

“What am I, chopped liver?” he asks. 

“Well, somebody’s gotta stay with the truck for when your tow comes.” 

Tipping his head in agreement with Dexter’s point, he shrugs and hands the mic off to Kate. 

“Thanks,” she radios, “but I’ll stay with him.”

“Make sure he don’t get into any more trouble,” Boone tells her.

“Yeah,” Lily chimes in. “Not without us at least.”

“No promises.” 

Kate hooks the mic into the holder and tries to ignore the sappy look of wonder on his face, as if her staying was some monumental decision on her part. Her last glance at the tablet showed their evening of supercells was petering out, anyway. And she wasn’t above admitting she’d rather spend a few peaceful hours out here with him, as opposed to the loud caravan of chasers at their motel back in Pecos.    

Feigning interest in searching the floorboard for the tablet, she listens to Tyler coax a disgruntled tow company into shaving off a couple hours off their estimate. That he does so while bent over the console and sifting through the debris of the backseat, putting his Levi-covered ass directly in her line of sight, doesn’t hurt.

“Cooler’s intact,” he cheerfully declares, lifting the battered Coleman up like a prize. “You hungry?” 

------

Given the new five feet of twisted metal acting as a hood ornament, they opt to lower the tailgate instead. Ever the gentleman, Tyler spreads a threadbare wool blanket across the bed to keep them dry. Over cold cut sandwiches and a whipped topping container of something nutty and chocolatey that he calls possum pie, they observe the low precipitation supercell to the west. The lack of rain means they have a clear view of the clouds’ stunning rotation. And, because it’s them, they bicker about low pressure troughs and crosswise vorticities as lightning flickers and dances across the anvil’s top. When another ten minutes go by with no funnel cloud, Tyler admits defeat when the storm splits apart and the blue-gray clouds scatter across the golden horizon. The background chorus of crickets slows as the day’s heat lowers with the sun.

“It’s no tornado, but it sure is a pretty show,” he says, running a hand through his hair before replacing his cattleman.

Propped up on her elbows, Kate runs her eyes over him and hums her agreement. With one of his hands wrapped around the bar above them, he twists at the torso to look down at her. She doesn’t miss the brief flicker of his gaze to her lips; she hasn’t missed any of them in the week she’s spent by his side since missing her flight. 

“So. Your second rollover in two weeks. How you feeling?” he asks, his voice gone soft with concern.

With a bolt of clarity, Kate realizes that she doesn’t want one more week; she wants all of them. She wants to spend the rest of the summer right here beside this impossible, frustrating, wonderful man. The same man who took one look at her notebook of hypotheticals and worked hard to make them happen for no other reason than he believed in her. The same man who helped bring back her love of the chase. 

So, how is she feeling?

Like doing something infinitely more dangerous, she thinks. Without another thought, she flicks the brim of his hat up, snatches hold of his shirt, and tugs. He comes easily, readily, with one of his palms skidding across the blanket to catch himself as she captures his lips with a kiss. All that steady confidence of his comes through in the way his mouth moves against hers; the way he cups her jaw and keeps her where he wants her; the way his tongue traces along her lower lip.   

“Feeling pretty good,” she says when they pull apart, her chest heaving against his. 

Unbridled joy lights up his features in such a way that she can’t stop herself from wrapping an arm around his neck and hauling him down for more. Nipping at his bottom lip, she gently tugs and is rewarded with a growl from the deep well of his chest. His breath shudders out in a groan when she skims her nails along his scalp, knocking his hat off in the process. 

“Honey,” he breathes out against her cheek, his calloused fingers skimming along her throat and his mouth trailing behind with fervent, open-mouthed kisses. “Honey,” he tries again. “If you wanna stop, you just say the word.” 

But she doesn’t want to stop; she wants to go everywhere with him. After undoing a few buttons, she watches with rapt attention as he gets onto his knees and yanks his shirt off. Kate can’t help but touch as she holds his waist steady, while her other hand skims over his shoulders and down his chest. He’s all solid muscle and golden skin, save for a pale scar that curls around his hip. She traces it with her fingertips and wonders which of his fears gave it to him. Too enthralled with the lovely sight above her, she doesn’t notice her nails digging into his skin until Tyler snorts out a laugh, jerking away from her touch and whacking his head against the metal frame. 

“Oh, my god!” she cries, unable to stop the laugh that’s building in her throat. “Are you okay? I’m so sorry.”

The truck creaks as Tyler shifts his weight into the cradle of her hips. 

“She’s sorry she says.” He chuckles and shakes his head.

“You should’ve told me you were ticklish.” 

“I’m not ticklish,” he fires back, having the gall to look affronted. 

When Kate feigns reaching for him again, he grabs her wrists and holds them against the bed before following her down. “Okay?” he murmurs, his fingers already loosening their hold. 

She nods and strains up to claim his mouth again. They lose themselves for a few minutes, sharing breath between kisses. Eventually, his hands resume their wandering and skate up her sides, gathering the cotton of her shirt. She stretches her arms up, helping him remove the tank top and murmuring her request for her sports bra to go, too.

The cool evening air that pebbles her skin is soon banished by his warm breath as he drags wet kisses down her chest, his stubble raking across her naked flesh, unhurried and uncaring of her impatient whines as he takes his sweet time with her. 

With his hand clamped tight around her thigh to bring them closer, she lets him maneuver her where he wants her. Kate can’t help but let loose the moan building in her throat when their bodies meet in a delicious roll of pressure. The noise seems to spur him on as he bites gently at the rise of her collarbone.

“Tell me what you want,” he says, his voice thickened by need, “and I’ll give it to you. Anything, honey, and it’s yours.”

Her belly tightens with anticipation, her body buzzing with energy like static in the air before a lightning strike. 

“I just want you.” Her words are like the fire of a starting pistol; suddenly, it’s a race to shed the last of their clothes. Deft hands pop the button on her shorts and tug the denim down her legs. A low murmur of curses leave his mouth as Tyler fights to get them over her bulky boots. “Here, let me—”

“Nah, I got it,” he hushes her, tearing at the laces before chucking the boots somewhere over his shoulder. He plucks off her socks and holds one up, his eyebrow raised. Stitched along the cuffs are a little Snoopy and Woodstock sitting beside a campfire. That infuriating smirk of his makes a repeat appearance. “Cute.”

“Shut up,” she says without any real animosity. She grabs hold of his garish belt buckle and yanks, bringing him back down on top of her. His eyes flutter closed as she palms his thick length through the denim. 

“Kate,” he hisses out, his jaw clenched tight. 

Taking mercy on him, she loosens his belt and divests him of jeans and boxer briefs in one fell swoop. His boots and boring, two-tone wool socks join their makeshift clothing pile. Propped up on his elbow, he settles on top of her once more. He traces the rosy flush of her skin down, down, until he reaches his goal. 

Kate arches her hips up into his touch, wordlessly begging for more as he presses two fingers along the soaked gusset of her underwear. Even through the blanket, the bedliner’s grooves dig between her shoulder blades. She groans out his name in pleasure when he slides the cotton down her legs, then again in frustration when he continues stroking her with the same lazy pace as before. 

“Eyes on me, honey,” he demands. 

She didn’t even realize she closed them. He rewards her by sliding a finger inside her cunt, then another when she asks for more. The sight above her is a wonder: Tyler, naked and backlit by the last golden vestiges of the day. 

“This is the best you’ve ever looked,” she breathes against his lips when he lowers down for a kiss. 

“Only you get the privilege of seeing it.” 

And oh, she likes that. The viewers might get all the quick grins and the cute quips, but she’s the only one who gets to see him like this. “My view ain’t so bad, either.” 

The smartass reply dies before it can leave her mouth when he curls his fingers and rubs against the sensitive spot inside of her with damn near expert precision. A rush of wetness follows his move and they both groan at the sensation. She wraps her legs around his hips and rolls her body down to meet him. It’s been a long while, probably too long, with just her getting herself off. Her chest heaves under his as she comes, her orgasm coming on fast and hot, a bottle rocket of arousal firing off in her belly. 

“Needed that, hmm?” he murmurs against her sternum and nips at the underside of her breasts, soothing the flare of pain with his tongue. His fingers, shiny and tacky with her, pet along her thigh as she comes down. 

She tries to voice her agreement, but all the words get caught up in her throat; she clears it and tries again. 

“Almost as much as you seem to.” She trails down the vee of his hips to take him in hand. Looking up at him from beneath her lashes, she strokes his cock slowly and listens to his breathing quicken from her attention. His hips stutter when she swipes her thumb across the head and circles against the sensitive skin underneath. Tyler captures hold of her wrist and holds her steady, his eyes glassy with hunger. 

“If you want the show to go on, honey, you gotta stop.”

Kate hums, pleased with the desperate look in his gaze. She watches the taut lines of his body stretch and strain as he leans over and paws at his jeans. The cogs in her lust-soaked brain turn enough to realize what he’s after. 

“We don’t need one,” she says, softly running her palms along his back. “I’m covered. And I’m clean, and I trust that you are, too. But if you want to….” 

Already abandoning his search to settle back between her thighs, he answers her with a shake of his head. 

“Nah, I’m good,” he says before dipping down and coaxing her lips to open for him for a warm, wet kiss. “I wanna feel everything with you, Kate.” 

A week ago, she would’ve poked fun at the enigmatic comment — but in the here and now, all she can think is that she wants everything, too. Somehow, the thought is scarier than the fact that they’re about to have sex in the bed of his pickup.  

Taking himself in hand, Tyler drags his cock against her and grins at her threats to stop teasing her, or risk bodily harm. Finally heeding her words, he notches into her and slowly slides inside. She digs her heels into his lower back, hissing at the stretch of him. He settles his hips against hers and peppers kisses along her jaw, murmuring sweet nonsense to soothe her as she adjusts to the size of him. 

Eventually, she rocks her hips up to meet him and delights in the overwhelming sensation of him going deeper. Pleasure clogs her senses like molasses, everything slow and sinfully sweet as he drags his cock almost all the way out and then glides back in. She grips onto his shoulders and holds tight, crying out as she tips her head back. Stars wink into existence across the deep blue blanket of open sky above them. 

“Jesus, honey, you feel incredible,” Tyler praises, dipping his head down to capture the sweat beading between her breasts with his lips. One of his hands slides down to hook underneath her knee and presses upwards, opening her up for him to fuck her that much deeper. She keens at the new sensation, her hands scrabbling across his shoulders and down his back. He grunts and babbles and gasps against her skin. 

She says his name in praise, then in warning, knowing from the thick curl of heat in her belly that she’s close. When she reaches for her clit, he drops his hand from her knee to nudge her away and takes over, rubbing tight circles against her. 

“Wanna watch,” he tells her, practically begging. “Lemme see you.”

Her orgasm thunders through her, a wave of heat and light washing through her body as she clenches tight around him. With his perfect rhythm faltering, Tyler follows after her with a low, guttural groan. He pitches forward and barely manages to throw an arm out to prevent from crushing her. Kate knocks his hand loose from its hold on the blanket and welcomes the weight of him as he lands on her with an undignified huff. She grins up at his look of surprise. They spend a few minutes catching their breaths and coming down from their high. Eventually, Tyler starts trailing kisses down her throat and between her breasts. 

She thinks he’ll stop there; her theory is proven wrong when he continues down, down until he reaches the apex of her thighs and spreads her legs wide. 

“Tyler, what—”

“Gotta get you cleaned up, honey,” is all he says before he scoops her thighs up onto his shoulders and dives in like a man starved. 

Kate gasps, her hips jolting up from oversensitivity. 

“Easy, now,” he croons and she can feel the vibration of the words against her core. He clamps an arm across her hips, holding her down as he feasts. “Good girl.” 

She shivers as he licks at her cunt and the combination of her and him that he’s gathering on his tongue. When she reaches down to help herself along, he swats her hand away and captures her clit between his lips. That familiar heat simmers, then surges, bubbling over faster than before. Her head falls back onto the blanket as the stars above her blur, her vision going as he coaxes a third orgasm from her. 

Reaching for him, she sifts her fingers through his hair and sighs, pleasure-warm and content as he eases off and continues down to the scar along her leg. 

“I’m glad you’re here,” he tells her, his eyes finding hers in the near-dark. She hums as he kisses along the raised skin. 

“Nowhere else I’d rather be,” she says, quiet, as if it’s some big secret. She finds that, of all his smiles, the one spreading across his face right now is her favorite. Sure, she hasn’t known him long, but she likes to think this smile of his is all hers. It’s only been two weeks, though, so more data is needed — which means she needs to stick around to collect it. 

------

Later, when they’re lying propped against the cab with the world dark enough to see the green lights of fireflies flicker above the foot-high grass: 

“I have a question.”

“Shoot.”

“What’s your insurance premium on this thing?” 

Caught off-guard, Tyler snorts and lets out a laugh, the noise echoing across the field. 

“I do all the repairs myself, for the most part. This ain’t the first windshield she’s gone through and it won’t be the last.” 

“Is that what you do in the off-season?”

“Kinda sorta. Got a buddy who owns a garage in Russellville that brings me on when we get back home. I install and maintain weather stations for another. If all that dries up, I’m pretty good with my hands.” He pauses for comedic effect, giving her time to roll her eyes. “And I know a little plumbing, a little landscaping.” He’s quiet again for a moment, then: “That’s the nice thing about jobs like that. I can pick up and take off anywhere I please.” 

From somewhere near the tree line comes the loud, raspy song of katydids — a far cry from the night noises outside of her New York apartment. Tyler runs his fingers through her hair where she’s resting against his now-clothed chest.  

“What about you? You thought about what you’ll do?”

She gives a little shrug, not wanting to dislodge his arm. 

“Javi agreed to make the pitch. He’s always been more business-savvy than I am.” 

“It’s good work, what you’re doing. If those higher-ups don’t agree, then fuck ‘em.”

“What we’re doing,” she corrects, pleased when he hums his agreement. “And I – I keep thinking about what my mom said. About finishing my degree. But that would mean quitting my job and moving back here and I’m not sure if I’m ready for that just yet.” She pauses, intent on keeping her next thought private, but it comes out unbidden. “But I think I want to be.” 

“Does it ever… did you find it easy, the first time, leaving all this behind?” he asks. 

“I did, but only because staying would mean confronting what happened. I decided the healthiest option was to bury it all so I could try and move on. I would spend hours daydreaming about what I could’ve done differently. If I had driven and found a route out of there, if I had insisted we hunker down in a ditch instead, or if I made them all wait with Javi back where it was safe.”

“If you went alone instead,” he surmises, his gaze darting across her face. 

“Yeah.” She can see the connection he’s making, of how she tried to make it right this time, of why she left him and everyone else behind in the theater. 

“Hey.” He cups her face and swipes away the lone tear with his thumb. “Don’t do that again. If you’re heading off into uncertain danger, then I wanna be right there with you.” 

Orange lights flicker against the horizon near the road, heralding the end of their alone time. 

“C’mon, Sapulpa, make yourself presentable.” He urges her up and helps guide her through the metal bars of his roll-cage. Ever the gentleman, he hops down off the truck to search for their boots. “Maybe I can sweet-talk the driver into dropping us off at that diner you were eyeballing.” 

“I did work up an appetite,” she says, perched on the tailgate and swinging her socked feet.  

“Yeah, you did,” he agrees with that trademark smile. Finally locating her boots, he holds each of them upside down and knocks them against the truck for good measure before handing them off. “Besides, you’re gonna need that fuel for later.”