British Cowboy

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It was grocery day, and, boy, did I need some groceries. My only edible food left was a shit-load of strawberries, some homemade chocolate frosting, and whipped cream. Not something I was willing to have for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. He was obviously in need of a ride.

I wasn't very happy to pick up a stranger on the side of the road, but I decided to pull over anyway. I could at least hear him out, or give him a little money. 'Howdy, ma'am. ' he said as I rolled down my window.

It was the strangest accent I'd ever heard. Half British, half Texan. I couldn't help but smile at him, the man was definitely good looking. He wore a tight black muscle shirt over a very nicely toned body, baggy jeans, steel-toed boots, and a cowboy hat that he tipped at me.

'Where to, stranger?' I asked with a smile. Although, I was studying his facial expressions and hands. No telling if he was a deranged psychopath or not. 'Wherever you're going, miss.

I just need to get to a town. Been walking for about a mile now, trying to get to some place populated. I'm beat. ' he said, smiling pleasantly.

He really seemed like a nice guy. Although his accent had changed. Now he was speaking a mildly noticeable British accent, with no drawl anywhere in it. 'What happened to your cowboy accent?' I asked with a laugh.

'I'm great at accents,' he said, 'but I'm natively British. ' he said, this time in a sexy British accent, like the more stereotypical ones. 'I like that one. Stick with it.

' I said with a smile. He laughed and nodded. 'Throw your bags in the back. ' I said, and popped the trunk.

He threw his things in, then shut it and opened the door to the backseat. 'Nope, you're up front with me. ' I said. He laughed and went in the passenger seat instead.

'Guess you don't trust me. ' he said, and I nodded. He laughed at that, and sat with his hands in his lap. I guess he found himself funny.

And he actually was, I couldn't help but laugh at his innocent face. 'So, stranger, what's your name?' I asked as I continued my drive to town. 'Jaik. And you'll never spell it correctly.

' he said, giving me a challenging smile. 'J-a-k-e?' I asked, spelling it the only way I knew how. 'Nope. J-a-i-k.

' he said, grinning proudly over his unique name. 'And yours, ma'am?' 'Lilian. I said, but please call me Lily or Lile. ' I said, hating my own name.

'Can I call you Lil?' he asked, giving me a boyish grin. I just laughed and nodded. 'Then how about I call you Jay?' I suggested, and he nodded his approval. 'I like it.

Good ol' Bonny and Clyde sort of thing. ' he said, and nodded. There was a few moments of silence before I finally asked the inevitable question. 'Why'd you need a ride?' 'My ex-fiance kicked me out.

' he answered, with no added emotion in his voice. He really didn't seem to care. 'Why?' I asked, never being one to keep my nose out of other people's business. 'I told her I shouldn't marry her.

I hate commitment, and feel like a marriage is way too binding. I'd most likely cheat on her if we got married. She didn't like hearing that. .