Chestnut Springs Book 2) Heartless – Elsie Silver

HeartlessASmallTownSingleDadRomanceElsieSilver
Copyright?2022byElsieSilver
Allrightsreserved.
Nopartofthisbookmaybereproducedinanyformorbyanyelectronicormechanicalmeans,includinginformationstorageandretrievalsystems,withoutwrittenpermissionfromtheauthor,exceptfortheuseofbriefquotationsinabookreview.
Thisisaworkoffiction.Anynames,characters,placesorincidentsareproductsoftheauthor’simaginationandusedinafictitiousmanner.Anyresemblancetoactualpeople,places,oreventsispurelycoincidentalorfictional.
CoverDesignbyWildheartGraphics
CoverPhotobyKendallTayloratRoamingWildPhotography
EditingbyLilypadLit
ProofreadingbyLittleTweaksFortheincrediblewomenwho’vebeenmybiggestsupporters.Andforallthewomenouttherewhobuildotherwomenupratherthantearingthemdown.
We’rebettertogether.Sometimesgoodthingsfallapartsobetterthingscanfalltogether.
MarilynMonroeContents
Chapter1
Chapter2
Chapter3
Chapter4
Chapter5
Chapter6
Chapter7
Chapter8
Chapter9
Chapter10
Chapter11
Chapter12
Chapter13
Chapter14
Chapter15
Chapter16
Chapter17
Chapter18
Chapter19
Chapter20
Chapter21
Chapter22
Chapter23
Chapter24
Chapter25
Chapter26
Chapter27
Chapter28
Chapter29
Chapter30
Chapter31
Chapter32
Chapter33
Chapter34
Chapter35
Chapter36
37.Epilogue
PowerlessSneakPeek
Don’tmissFlawless
BooksbyElsieSilver
Acknowledgments
TheElsieSilverSaloon
AbouttheAuthor
1
Cade
LucyReid’seyesfluttermyway.Thelookinthemisjustalittletooappreciativeformytaste.
“Well,Ilovetodoartsandcrafts.Idoalotofscrapbookinginmysparetime.Knitting.IbetLukewouldlovetodosomeknitting.Don’tyouthink,Cade?”
Ialmostlaughatthewayshepurrsmyname.Also,I’dlovetoseesomeonegetLuketositstilllongenoughtohandletwopointysticksandcreatesomething.
ShesmilesoveratSummernow,mylittlebrother’sfiancée,beforeadding,“Youknowhowitis.Weallneedsomesortoffemininehobbies,don’twe?”
Ihearmydad,Harvey,chucklefromwherehe’sseatedintheroom’scorner.Hiringanannyhasturnedintoafull-onfamilyaffair.
Andafull-onnightmare.
Summer’slipsrolltogether,andsheoffersasmall,fakesmile.“Yes,ofcourse.”Ialmostsnort.Summer’sideaoffeminineentertainmentissquattingheavyplatesatthegymandtorturinggrownmeninthenameof“personaltraining.”She’slyingthroughherfuckingteeth,butit’spossibleshe’sstillnewenoughintownthatLucydoesn’tknow.
OrmaybeLucyisbeingasnarkybitchtomyfuturesister.
“Alright.”Istand.“Well,thanks.We’llgetbacktoyou.”
LucyseemsalittletakenabackbyhowswiftlyI’vechangedtheconversation,butI’veheardandseenallIneedto.
Andbedsidemannerisn’tmystrongsuit.I’mmoreofarip-the-band-aidofftype.
Ispinonmyheel,dropmychin,andwalkoutbeforeit’stooobviousthatIsawheroutstretchedhandandjustdidn’tcaretoshakeit.Practicallystompingtothekitchen,Ipropmyhandsagainstthebutcherblockcounterthatbuttsupagainstthewindowandletmyeyestraceoutovertheopenrange.AcrossthepeaksoftheRockiesthatjutuptowardtheheavens.
Thisview,wildandcraggy,isburstingwithcolorintheearlysummer—grassalittletoogreen,skyalittletooblue,andsunbrightenoughtowasheverythingoutabitandmakeyousquint.
Aftertossingsomecoffeebeansintothegrindertomakeafreshpot,IpressdownonthetoptofillthehousewiththesoundandtrynottothinkaboutwhatI’mgoingtodowithmykidforthenextcoupleofmonths.Itjustleadstobeatingmyselfup.FeelinglikeIshoulddomoreforhim.Bemorepresentforhim
Basically,it’snotproductive.
ThesoundhastheaddedbenefitofdrowningoutthepleasantriesthatmydadandSummerareexchangingwithLucyatthefrontdoor.
Notmyhouse,notmyresponsibility.We’redoingthenannyinterviewsatthemainfarmhouse,wheremydadlives,becauseIdon’tlikelettingrandompeopleintomyhome.Especiallynotoneswholookatmelikethisistheirticketintocompletingsomeweirdlittlepremadehappyfamilyfantasywithme.
Harvey,ontheotherhand,wouldrunabed-and-breakfastoutofthisplaceandenjoythehelloutoftakingcareofpeople.Eversincehegotinjuredandhandedtheranchovertome,it’slikehejustwandersaroundsocializing24-7.
Iwatchthesmallgrainstumbleintothewhitepaperfilterinthecoffeemaker’stopandthenswiveltofillthepotwithwateratthesink.
“Kindalateinthedayforapotofcoffee,don’tyouthink?”Harveystridesin,withSummernotfarbehind.
Theyhavenoidea.I’mfulluponcoffeetoday.Almostjittery.“Justpremakingitfortomorrowmorningforya.”
Summersnortsandmydadrollshiseyes.TheybothknowI’mfullofshit.
“Youweren’tverynicetoher,Cade,”ishisnextcomment.Andnowit’smyturntorollmyeyes.“Infact,you’vebeenachallengewiththisentireprocess.”
Crossingmyarms,Ileanbackagainstthecountertop.“I’mnotverynice.AndI’llhappilybeachallengeaboutprotectingmykid.”Iswearmydad’slipstwitchwhenhesitsdownatthetableandcrossesabootedfootoverhisknee.Summerjuststands,hipproppedagainstthedoorframe,staringatme.Shedoesthissometimesandit’sunnerving.
She’ssmart.Shedoesn’tmissabeat.IswearIhearthegearsturninginherhead,butshedoesn’thaveabigmouth,soyouneverquiteknowwhatshe’sthinking.
IlikeherandI’mgladmylittlebrotherwassmartenoughtoputaringonit.
“You’renice,”shesaysthoughtfully,“inyourownway.”
IclampmyteethontomylipbecauseIdon’twanttogivethemthesatisfactionofseeingI’mamusedbythatcomment.
Shesighs.“Listen,that’severyonewe’veinterviewed.IwentoutofmywaytoweedouttheapplicantswhoseemedlessinterestedinspendingtimewithLukeandmoreinterestedinspendingtimewith…you.”
“Hooboy”—Dadslapsthetable—“andtherewereseveral.Whoknewwomenwouldwillinglysignuptoendureyourscowlsandbadmoods?Thepayisn’tthatgood.”
IscowlathimbeforeturningmyattentionbacktoSummer.“Youdidn’tweedthoroughlyenough.Iwantsomeonewhohaszerointerestinme.Nocomplicatedshit.Maybetheycouldbehappilymarried?”
“Happilymarriedwomendon’twanttoliveinyourhouseforthesummer.”
Igrunt.“Whataboutsomeonefromanothertown?Someonewhodoesn’tknowourfamily.Andallmyshit.Someonewhohasn’tsleptwithoneofmybrothers.”Mynosewrinkles.“Ormydad.”
Harveymakesalittlechokingsound,almostalaugh.“I’vebeensinglefordecades,son.Mindyourbusiness.”
Summer’scheekspinken,butIdon’tmissthesmileonherlipsassheturnstopeeroutthewindow.
“Icouldjustdoit,youknow,”Harveyadds.Andnotforthefirsttime.
“No.”
“Whynot?He’smygrandson.”
“Exactly.That’swhatyourrelationshipshouldremain.You’vedoneenoughhelpingwithhimforhisentirelife.Yourback,yourknees—youneedarest.Youcanstillhaveyourfundayswithhimanytimeyouwant.Butyoudon’tneedtorunyourselfintothegroundwithlonghours,earlymornings,andpossiblylatenights.It’snotfair,andI’mnottakingadvantageofyouthatway.Endofstory.”
ThenIturnbacktomyfuturesister-in-law.“Summer,can’tyoujustdoit?You’dbeperfect.Lukelovesyou.Youdon’tlikeme.Youalreadyliveontheranch.”
Iseeherjawtwitch.She’sgettingsickofmeaskingher,butIdon’twanttoleavemyboywithjustanyone.He’sahandful.Morethanonehandful.AndIcan’taccomplisheverythingIneedtodoonthisranchthissummerwithoutsomeoneheretotakecareofhim.SomeoneIcantrusttokeephimsafe.
“I’malsoanewbusinessowner,andthesesummermonthsaremybusiest.It’snotanoption.Stopasking.Itmakesmefeelbad.BecauseIloveyouandLuke.Butwe’regettingtiredofbendingoverbackwardsinterviewingpeoplejusttomakezeroprogresswithyou.”
“Okay,fine,”Igrumble.“I’llsettleforsomeonejustlikeyou,then.”
Herheadquirksinresponsetothat,herbodystilling.“Imighthaveanidea.”Shebringsafingeruptotapitagainstherlips,andHarveyturnstoher,eyesfullofquestions.
Helookssodamnhopeful.IfI’mtiredofthesagathatisfindinganewnannyforthesummer,thenHarveymustbedownrightexhausted.
Myeyebrowsknittogether.“Who?”
“Youdon’tknowher.”
“Doesshehaveexperience?”
Summerstaresatme,wide,darkeyesgivingnothingaway.“Shehasexperiencewithhandlingrowdyboys,yes.”
“Willshefallinlovewithme?”
Summersnortsinthemostunladylikeway.“No.”
Hercertaintyshouldprobablyoffendme,butI’mnotbotheredbyit.Ipushoffthecounterandtwirlafingeraround.“Perfect.Let’sdoitup,”ItellherasImarchoutthebackdoortowardmyhouseandawayfromtheclusterfuckthatisfindingacapablenannyforafive-year-oldboy.
Ijustneedsomeonetogetinandgetout.Someoneprofessionalandcomplicationfree.
It’sonlytwomonths.Itshouldn’tbethathard.
***
IcountinmyheadthelasttimeIhadsex.
OratleastItry.
Twoyears?Threeyears?WasitthatonetimeinJanuarywhenIspentanightinthecity?Howlongagowasthateven?Whatwasthatchick’snameagain?
Thewomaninfrontofmeshifts,onehippoppingout,fullassroundingoutherskinnyjeansinawaythatshouldbeillegal.Theunder-cheekcreaseisalmostasalluringastheswingofhercopperhairasitswishesacrossherslenderback.
She’sdistracting.Tightshirttuckedintotightjeans.Everyfuckingcurveondisplay.
Ilosecountentirely.It’sthesightofherinfrontofmeinlineforcoffeethathasmecountinganyway.
ThetakeawayhereisIhadsexsofarbacknowthatIdon’tevenremember.Butthere’snoforgettingwhyIhaven’tevenletmyselfconsidermembersoftheoppositesex.
AkidI’mraisingonmyown.AranchI’mrunningonmyown.Amillionresponsibilities.Toolittletime.Notenoughsleep.
Timeformyselfhasn’tbeenathingforalongtime.Ijustdidn’trealizehowlong.
“WhatcanIgetyou,ma’am?”
Thewomaninfrontofmelaughs,anditremindsmeofthechimesonmybackporchwhenthewinddancesthroughthem—melodicandairysounding.
Whatalaugh.
It’salaughI’drecognize.I’vedefinitelynevermetthiswoman.I’drememberitbecauseIknoweveryoneinChestnutSprings.
“Ma’am?Idon’tknowhowIfeelaboutthat,”shesays,andIswearIcanhearthesmileinhervoice.Iwonderifherlipsmatchtherestofher.
Ellen,whorunsLePamplemousse,thelittlegourmetcoffeeshopintown,smilesather.“Well,whatwouldyouhavemecallyou?Iusuallyrecognizeeveryfacethatwalksinmydoor,butnotyours.”
Ah,it’snotjustme.Ileanforwardalittle,hopingtocatchthename.Butoneworkerchoosesthisexactmomenttogrindcoffee.Whichjustmakesmegrindmyteeth.
Idon’tknowwhyIwanttoknowthiswoman’sname.Ijustdo.I’mfromasmalltown,I’mallowedtobesnoopy.Andthat’sallthisis.
Whenthegrindingnoisestops,Ellen’swrinkledfacelightsup.“Whataprettyname.”
“Thankyou,”thewomaninfrontofmereplies,beforeadding,“HowcomethisplaceiscalledTheGrapefruit?”
Ellenbarksoutheramusementandgrinsfromhersideofthecounter.“ItoldmyhusbandIwantedtonametheshopsomethingthatsoundedfancy.SomethingFrench.HesaidtheonlythingheknowshowtosayinFrenchislepamplemousse.Itseemedgoodenoughtomeandnowit’slikealittlerunningjokebetweenus.”Hereyessoftenatthementionofherhusband,andIfeelaflickerofenvyinsideofmychest.
Followedbyaflickerofannoyance.
TheonlyreasonIhaven’tgrumbledabouttheirslow-as-fuckchitchatisbecauseI’mtoobusyfightingoffapublicboneroverthischick’slaugh.Undernormalcircumstances,itwouldpissmeoffthatgrabbingacoffeeistakingthisdamnlong.ItoldmydadI’dbebacktograbLuke—Icheckmywatch—rightaboutnow.IneedtogetbacksoIcanmeetwithSummerandthepersonwhowillhopefullybeLuke’snanny.
ButmymindiswanderinginwaysIhaven’tletitinliteralyears.SomaybeI’mmeanttojustenjoytheride.Maybeit’sokaytoletmyselffeelsomething.
“I’llgrabamedium,extrahot,nofoam,halfsweet…”MyeyessubtlyrollbackinmyheadasItipthebrimofmyblackhatdown.Ofcourse,theoutsiderwiththerockingbodymusthaveanannoyinglylongandcomplicateddrinkorder.
“That’llbethreedollarsandseventy-fivecents,”Ellensays,eyesfixedonthecashregister’stouchscreeninfrontofherwhilethewomanatthetilldigsthroughheroversizedpurse,clearlysearchingforherwallet.
“Ohshit,”shemutters,andfromthecornerofmyeye,Iseesomethingfallfromherpursetothepolishedconcretefloorathersandal-cladfeet.
Withouteventhinkingaboutit,Idropintoacrouchandswipetheblackfabricoffthefloor.Iseeherlegsturningandrisebackup.
“Hereyougo,”Isay,myvoiceallgravelasashotofnerveshitsme.Talkingtostrangewomenisn’tawell-honedskillofmine.
Scowlingatthem?I’maprofessional.
“Ohmygod,”shesays.
Standingnow,Igetagoodlookatherface.Myfeetroottotheground,andmylungsstopworking.Herlaughhasnothingonherface.Cat-likeeyes,archedbrows,andmilkyskin.
She’sfuckingstunning.
Andhercheeksarefire-enginered.
“I’msosorry,”shegasps,handfallingacrossherrosebudlips.
“Noneed.It’sfine,”Isay,butIstillfeellikeeverythingishappeninginslowmotion.I’mhavingahardtimecatchingup,stilltoofixatedonherface.
Andfuck
Hertits.
I’mofficiallyacreepyoldman.Myeyestraildowntomyfist,thesoftfabricpokingoutfrombetweenmyfingers.
Shegroansasmyfingersunfurl.Andslowlybutsurely,Ifigureoutwhyshe’sactingsohorrifiedovermebeingagentlemanandpickingupher…
Panties.
Istareatthescrapofblackfabricinmyhand,andit’slikeeverythingaroundusgoesblurry.Myeyesshoottohers,allwideandgreen.Somanyshades.Amosaic.
I’mnotknownforsmiling,butthecornersofmymouthtwitch.“You,uh,droppedyourpanties,ma’am.”
Astrangledgiggleburstsfromherashergazedartstomyhandandbacktomyface.“Wow.Thisisawkward.I’mreally—”
“Yourcoffeeisready,sweetheart!”Ellencalls.
Theredhead’sfaceflipsaway,relievedbytheinterruption.“Thankyou!”shecallsbackalittletoobrightlybeforeslappingafivedownonthecounterandgrabbingthepapercup.Withoutanotherglance,she’smakingabeelineforthedoor.Likeshecan’tgetawayfastenough.“Keepthechange!Seeyouagain!”
IswearIhearhergigglingunderherbreathasshebreezespast,clearlyavoidingmygazewhilemurmuringsomethingtoherselfaboutthisbeingagoodstorytotellherkidsoneday.
IabsentlywonderwhatthehellkindofstoriesthiswomanplansontellingherfuturechildrenbeforeIcallouttoher.“Youforgotyour…”ItrailoffbecauseIrefusetoshoutthisacrossthecoffeeshopfullofpeopleIhavetofacedayin,dayout.
Sheturnsandpressesherbackintothedoorassheleaves,holdingmyeyesforabeat,barelycontainedamusementtouchingeveryfeature.“Finderskeepers,”shesayswithashrug.
Now,shedoeslaugh,fullandwarmandsodamnamused.Thensheexitsintothesunlitstreet,hairshininglikefireandhipsswinginglikesheownsthistown.
Sheleavesmestunned.
AndwhenIglancebackdownatmyopenpalm,ithitsmeshe’slonggone.Ihavenoideawhathernameis,andI’mstillhere…
Holdingherpanties.2
Willa
“Whowashe?”Summer’svoiceisstrangled.
“Notadamnclue.”Ithinkbackonmyblackunderwearplunkingdownonthefloorandhowmortificationslowlymorphedintohysterics.
Onlyme.
Thingslikethatwouldonlyhappentome.
Mybestfriendgasps,rockingforwardontheporchswing.“Youdidn’ttakethemback?”
Ismirkandtakeasipofmybeer.“No.Helookedso…Idon’tknow.Stunned?Likenotoffended,butnotpervyaboutiteither.Itwaskindofadorable.IfeellikeIfreedahouse-elforsomething.”
“DidheresembleDobby?”
Igroanandwagglemybrowsathersuggestively.“IfDobbywashot.”
“Willa,that’snasty.”Shewheezes.“Pleasetellmetheywereclean.”
“Ofcourse.They’remyspares.YouknowIdon’tlikewearingpanties.Butnowandthen,theneedarises,youknow?”
Summernarrowshergazeinmydirection.“Ihavethatneedeveryday.”
“Tobeuncomfortable?Nothanks.Lifeistooshort.Brasandunderwearareoverrated.Plus,nowIcanlayawakeatnightandwonderwhatsomerandoisdoingwiththem.”
Summerjustlaughsagain.“Heprobablythrewthemoutlikeanysanepersonwould.”She’ssohappythesedays.Sincesheleftherstrainedfamilyandoverperformingcitylife.Shemetabullriderandranoffintothesunsetandnowheresheis.Mybestfriend.Allsmilesandfrecklesandcurleduponaporchswinginfrontofabeautiful,custom-builtrancherthatfacesoutovertheRockyMountains.
Nothinghaseverlookedbetteronher.
Iliketobugheraboutlivinginthemiddleof“buttfucknowhere”butthetruthistheviewoutnearChestnutSpringsisbreathtaking.Prairielandsoflatitalmostseemsimpossible.Dark,craggymountainsrisinglikeatidalwave,headingrightforyou.
Inthecity,wecanseethemountains,butnotlikethis.Notlikeyoucouldreachoutandtouchthem.
“So,whatareyougoingtodoaboutthenextseveralmonths?”
Isigh.Ihavenoidea.ButIalsodon’twantSummerworryingaboutme.It’skindofherthing.She’llgetallworried,andthenshe’lltrytofixthingsformewhenI’djustrathergowiththeflow.
“MaybeI’llcomelivewithyouandRhettforawhile?”Isayinnocently,glancingaround.“Thehouseissonicenowthatit’sfinished.Youwouldn’tmind,wouldyou?”
Sherollsherlipstogetherlikeshe’sreallythinkingaboutit.Goddamn,thiswomanhasaheartofgold.
“Sum,I’mkidding.Iwouldn’tdothattoyouguys.”Huffingoutaraggedsigh,Igazeoutoverthefields.“Idon’tknow.WhenFordtoldmehewasgoingtoshutdownthebarforrenovations,Iwashonestlyexcited.IfiguredI’dspendthesummertravelingfromhorseshowtohorseshowandblowingthroughallmysavings.Avoidingcomingupwithaplanformylifeandjustbeingatwenty-five-year-oldwithnothingexceptfamilymoneygoingforher.”
Shetriestointerruptme.Shedoesn’tlikeitwhenI’mhardonmyselfaboutmanagingmysupersuccessfulbrother’sbar.Ortaggingalongonmysupersuccessfulparents’vacations.Orjuststumblingthroughlifewithzerosenseofdirectioninafamilyfullofoverachievers.
Iignoreherprotestsandcontinue.“Butofcoursemyhorsehadtogoruinallmyplansandinjurehimselfjustintimeforshowseason.TuxneededsurgeryandnowI’lljustspendmysummerfeedinghimcarrotsandobsessivelybrushinghim.”
Mybestfriendjuststaresatme.IwanttoreachintoherbrainandpluckoutherthoughtsbecauseIknowshe’schock-fullofthem.
“I’llbegood.It’safirstworldproblem.I’llvisityouabunch.Youcanbrutalizemeatyourgym,andI’llpickuptheoddhockeyplayerorbullrider.Win-win-win.”
“Right…”Herpointerfingertapsagainsthertoplip.“Whatif—”
“Ohno.Pleasedon’tdothethingwhereyoumakeityourjobtofixmylife.Youhelppeopletoomuch,youknowthat?”
“Willa,shutupandlistentome.”
Ipressmyassbackagainsttheporchrailingfacingherandreachforthebottleofbeerbesideme.It’sdrippingcondensationdowntheside,andtheliquidinsideisn’teventhatcoldanymore.It’sonlyJuneandalreadyunseasonablyhot.Jeanswereamistake.
Takingabigpull,Irollmyshouldersback.Readytobescolded.
“WhatifIhadawayforyoutoliveouthereforthesummer?ButnotwithRhettandme.”
ThatisnotwhatIwasexpectinghertosay.
“Idon’twanttocampinyouryard.I’mnotcutoutforsleepingoutdoors.Imaynotknowwhatmypathinlifeisyet,butIpromiseitdoesn’tincludeairmattressesandsleepingbags.”
Sherollshereyesandforgesahead.“No.Rhett’solderbrotherneedshelpwithhissonforthemonthsbetweenschool.Thewomanwhotookcareofhimwhenhewaslittlecan’tkeepupanymore.He’sfive.”
Istareatmyfriend,beerbottleswingingbackandforthbetweenmyfingers.“Youwantmetotakecareofachild?”
“Yeah.You’refun.Andhighenergy.Andifyoucanhandleabarfullofdrunkguys,thenwhat’sonelittleboywhoneedsentertaining?Youlikekids,youalwayssayyoudo.”
Imulltheideaoverinmyhead.Myfirstinclinationistosayno,buttruthfully,I’mdreadingthesemonthswithoutwork,orcompeting,ormybestfriend.I’vealwayslikedkids,possiblybecauseIstillfeelabitlikeonesometimes
“AndwherewouldIlive?”
Hereyeswidenjustalittleandherthroatworksassheswallows.“Withhisbrother,Cade.Herunstheranch.Hismorningsareearlyandsometimeshisnightsarelateifsomethinggoeswrong.Buthe’sgotagoodcrewhiredontheranchtooffsethishours.TheirdadlikestohelpwithLuke,buthonestly,he’snotcutoutfortwelve-hourdayseither.Buthe’dtagyououtprettyoften,I’msure.”
“Youlookscared?Isthisthedickbrotherorthefunny,hot,superherobrother?”IalmostfeelbadaskingbecauseIhaven’tbeengreataboutcomingouthereandvisitingSummer.WeoftenjustmeetintownratherthandrivingtheextratwentyminutesouttoWishingWellRanch.Ishouldprobablyhavemetallthemembersofherfuturefamilybynow,butIhaven’t.
“Thedickbrother.”
“Ofcourseitis.”Idrinkagain.
Shejumpsinquickly.“Butyouwon’tseehimthatmuch!Hespecificallydoesn’twantsomeonewhowill,um…getinhisway?Plus,RhettandIwillbearound.Itcouldbefun.”
Whensheputsitlikethat,itdoessoundkindoffun.Morefunthanspendingthebestmonthsoftheyearinthecityalone.
“Canwedoboozybrunches?”Wealwaysdidboozybruncheswhenwewerebothlivinginthecity,andIwantthemback.
Herlipstwitch.“Yes.”
Itossbacktherestofmybeer,alreadyknowingwhatmyanswerisgoingtobe.I’vegonewiththeflowmyentirelife.OpportunitiespopupandIstumbleintothem.Thisfeelslikeanotheroneofthose.
WhoamItosayno?
“Wellthen,fuckit.I’min.”
***
Wedriveacrossthefarmandpullupinfrontofthemostpicturesqueredhousewithwhitetrim.Littlehedgesrimtheyard,andawhitegateopenstoadirtpathleadingtothefrontdoor.
I’minstantlycharmed.
“Igettolivehere?”IaskasweclimboutofherSUV,unabletotearmyeyesfromtheadorable,perfectlymanicuredhouse.
“Yeah.”Summercarrieson,missingthepartwhereI’mbeyondcharmedbythewholevibeouthere.“Ithinkhishoursaresovariablethatitmakessense.BeforeweweretagteamingitwithhisdadandMrs.Hillbutwakingupandgettingoverhereat4:30a.m.isjusttoomuchforthem.Cadedoesn’tenjoyaskingthemtodoit,butifyou’relivinghere,youcanjustkeepsleepingandthenLukewon’tbealoneinthehouse.”
Summersauntersuptothefrontdoorwithoutacareintheworld,andItrailbehind,wonderingwhatthehellI’veactuallysignedmyselfupfor.
Idon’tknowshitabouttakingcareofkids.
Orparenting.
Orranching.
MystepsfalterasIfallbehind,butSummerdoesn’tnotice.Shemarchesupthecoupleofstepsinherflip-flopsandcutoffjeanstothefrontporch,liftstheknocker,andbangshard.
“Hey,Sum—”Istart,reachingoutwithahandasthoughIcanstopherwhenshe’salreadyknocked.Thinkingthatweshouldtalkthisthroughmorethoroughly.Hammeroutsomedetails.
Maybemyimpulsivenesshasgottenmeinovermyheadforonce.Ialmostfeellikeshe’srushing.Likeshecan’twaittowrapthisup.AndIhavequestions.
Lotsofquestions.
Buttheyallevaporatefrommymindtheminutethefrontdoorswingsopen,andI’mleftstandingstupidlyinthemiddleofthedirtwalkway,gawkingatthemanfromthecoffeeshop.
TheoneIleftmypantieswith.
He’sstillallman,fromheadtotoe.Darkhair,darkereyesunderfurrowedbrows,broadshoulders,thesexiestscruffsurroundingaslightlycurledlip…andascowl.
Hestaresinmydirectionwhilehisknucklesturnwhitewherehegripsthedoor.
“Cade!”Summerstartsin,oblivioustothedeathglarehe’spinningmewith.“Thisismybestfriend,Willa.Yournewnanny.”
“No,”ishisonlyreply.
“Whatdoyoumean,no?”
“Imean,overmydeadbody.”Condescensiondripsfromhiswords.
Herheadquirkstotheside,andIclosethespacebetweenus.Ifhethinkshe’sgoingtotalktomybestfriendthatway,he’sgotanotherthingcoming.I’vehadherbacksincewewereteenagers.Summer’senduredenoughshittymeninherlife,sothisonecanfuckallthewayoff.
“Cade,don’tberidiculous.We’vebeentryingtofindsomeonefor—”
Hecutsheroff.“You’rebeingridicu—”
Istepontotheporch,seeingred.Nooneelseinmyfamilyhasredhair,andIdon’tknowifit’stoblameformyfieryside,butIhavebeenknowntoflyoffthehandleandholdahellofagrudge.
I’vebeenknowntobreakupbarfightswithabat.
AndmaybeI’mabouttobeknownforkickingahot-as-hellrancherintheballs.
Iwaveahandrightinfrontofhimtoshuthimup.“Chooseyournextwordscarefully.Idon’tcareifshe’sabouttobeyoursister-in-law.Noonespeakstoherwiththattone,period.”
Heturnshisdarkgazeonmenow,eyesstartingonmyfacebeforetrailingdownmybodyinthemostcriticalandunnervingway.Whenhiseyescomebackup,thelookinthemisperfectlyflat.
Likehe’ssizedmeupandfoundmeentirelylacking.
“AndIdon’tcareifyou’reherbestfriend.Yousmelllikebeerandyourpantiesarestillinmybackpocket.You’renottakingcareofmyson.”
Myeyesnarrow,andmylipscurveupathismisstep.“Yousavingthemforlater?”
Iwinkathim,watchingfieryredsplotchescropupontheapplesofhischeeksandseepoutacrosstheimmaculatebonestructurehiddenbeneaththatbeardandscowl.
Summerspinsonme,chocolateeyeswideassaucers.Sheresemblesoneofthosesquishy-faceddogswhoseeyesareconstantlybuggingoutinthemostadorableway.“Cadeisthepantyguy?”
“I’mnotthepantyguy,”heinterjects,butSummerandIignorehim.
“Yeah.Andyousaidthatanysanemanwouldhavethrownthemout.Soyouknowwhatthatmeans.”
We’regrinningateachotherlikecrazypeoplenow,andbeforeIknowit,agiggleslipsfrombetweenSummer’slips.Andbeforelong,she’sdoubledover,handsonherknees,gaspingforair.
“Forfuck’ssake.”Thegrumprunsabroadhandthroughhishairinfrustration.“Iamnotthepantyguy.”
Laughtershakesmyshoulders,andmyeyeswaterasImumble,“Whatarethechances?”
“Thisisasmalltown.Thechancesarerathergood,”Cadegritsout,notnearlyasamusedasus.
Summerpracticallyhowlsasshestraightensandswipesathereyes.“Don’tworry,Cade.They’reclean.”
Hisnostrilsflare,andhiseyesfallshutashesucksinadeepbreath.Likethatmightbringhimsomesortofpeace.
“PantyGuy.”Ishakemyheadandgrinathim.Nannyornot,I’llbespendingtimearoundthismanfortherestofmylifewithSummerbeingmarriedtohisbrother,soImightaswellsmooththingsout.
“He’snotapantyguy!Hewearsboxers!”Asmallvoiceechoesfromthehallwayasthemostadorabledark-haired,blue-eyedlittleboycomesblastingintoview.“Thosetightonesthough,”heclarifies,addinginsulttoinjury.
“Yeah,”Ideadpantothelittleboywho’snowwedgedhimselfunderhisdad’sarm.Bigeyesregardmewithkeeninterest.“Can’thaveanychafing.”
“What’schafing?”heaskscuriously,ashisdadholdsonebroad,tannedhanduptohiseyebrowsandrubsatthem.
“Luke.”
“Likewhenallyourjunkrubstogether,”Iexplain.
Youdon’tgrowuparoundmyparentsandactshyaboutthisstuff.Nothingisoffthetableinourfamily.
“Ohyeah,”henods,appearingwisebeyondhisyears.“Ihateitwhenthathappens.”
“Luke,backinyourroom.”Cade’sbroadformhasturnedtofacehisson,andIcan’thelpbutadmirehim.Thestrengthheexudes.Therippleinhisforearms.ThewayhisAdam’sapplebobs.Thewayhiseyessoftenashestaresdownathisson.
That’stherealkicker.
“Why?”Thiskidhashisnumberthough.Sapphireeyeswidenalmostdramatically,andhisbottomlippushesouteversoslightly.“IwannagoplaywithSummerandherfriend.”
He’sprecious
“No,”hisdadsays,rightasIsay,“Sure!”
Cade’sheadsnapsaround,browsharshslashesacrosshisforehead,thelinestherefurrowedasthoughI’vedonesomethingtopersonallyoffendhim.
“Cade.”Summerpropsherhandsonherhips.“Justlethimcomehangoutforabit.Maybeitwillbeokay.Maybeyou’llbepleasantlysurprised.”
Myeyesbouncebetweenthetwoofthem.Summer,allpint-sizedandsweet,Cade,allbigandgrowly.
“Please,Dad?”WhenLuke’ssugary-sweetvoicespeaks,hedoesn’tlooksogrowly.Helooksmore…resigned.Tiredsomehow?
Cadespinsonme.“Howoldareyou?”
Istraighten,refusingtocowerunderhispiercinggaze.“Twenty-five.”
Histhroatworksasheassessesmeagain.“Doyouhaveacriminalrecord?”
“Notasubstantialone,”Ireplyhonestly.Igotcaughtwithpotoncebeforetheylegalizedit.Suemeforbeingafunteenager.
“JesusChrist.”Onethickhandrunsthroughhiscloselycroppedhairasheshakeshishead.
“Doyouhaveacriminalrecord?”Icrossmyarmsandarchaneyebrowbackathim.IfthisisthebrotherIthinkitis,theoneSummerhastoldmeabout,thenI’malmostpositivehe’snotsomewalking,talkingangel.AndI’llbetheonestucklivingwithhim.
Hestaresatme.Hard.Itfeelslikeitlastsforever.Summerlooksbetweenus,andfromthecornerofmyeyeIseeLukepeerupathisdadandtugatthehemofhisshirt.“CanIgoplaynow?”
“Fine.”Cadeglaresatmewhenhesaysit.“ButSummerisincharge.”
Thelittleboysquealsandlaunchesoffthefrontporch.
AndIjustglarebackathisdad.3
Cade
WithLukeoutofthehouse,Iofficiallyhavealittlebitoffreetime.Alittlebitoftimetomyself.Alittlebitoftimetorelax.
IkeepsayingIneedthis,butnowthatIhaveit,I’mnotsosureIlikeit
Itturnsoutthatafteralifetimeoftakingcareofpeople,I’mnotgreatatrelaxing.IflicktheTVonandtrytofindsomethingtowatch,butnothingappealstome.Iwalkovertothebookshelfinmylivingroom,stockedwithsomeclassicsfrommyparentsandsomebooksIgrabbedformyselfalongtheway.BooksIthoughtseemedinterestingandthennevermadethetimetoread.
Ipulloneoutandflopdownontothecouchwithit.ButwhenIdo,Ifeelalumpinmybackpocket.AndthenI’mimmediatelyonedge.
Willa
Idon’tevenknowherlastname.Idon’tknowmuchabouther,really.AllIknowisthatshewon’tbegoodenoughtotakecareofLuke.
She’snothingliketheuninteresting,responsible,asexualnunwhoalsowantstodofunthingswithanactivelittleboyI’vehadinmindforthejob.
I’mnotdelusionalenoughtothinkthatpersonexists,butIkeephopingforthatanyway.AndWillaisn’ttheanswerIwashopingfor.
Luke’smomdidanumberonus.Shecontinuestodoanumberonus—onme.
Mytrustlevelsareatrockbottom.ItrustMrs.HillbecauseIknowshetookgoodcareofmybrothersandme.Samegoesformydad.ItrustSummerbecauseanyonewhocanmanagetotiemywild-childlittlebrotherdowncanhandleanunrulyfive-year-old.
ButthisWillacharacter.Idon’tknowher.Idon’ttrusther.
AllIknowisthatshemakesmydicktwitch,shetalkstoomuch,andshehasasparepairofunderwearinherpurse.
Isitupandpullthemout.It’snotlikethey’reanythingoffensive.Asilkynylontypeofblackfabric.Prettyfullcut.Iguess.Forpanties?WhatthefuckdoIknow?
Ifeellikethebiggestperv,sittinghereonmycouch,scrutinizingapairofunderwearthatbelongstothewomanwhoiscurrentlytakingcareofmychild.
Ishouldgivethemback.
Idon’twanttokeepwalkingaroundwiththem.
Ialsodon’twanttolookherintheeyeasIhandthemback.
I’mthirty-eightyearsoldandactinglikeanervousfuckingteenageroverwomen’sundergarments.
Agitatedwithmyself,Istormovertothekitchenandshovethemallthewaytothebackofmy“stuff”drawer.TheonewhererandomshitgoestodiebecauseI’mtoolazytothinkofaproperplacetoputit.Ipridemyselfonkeepingatidyhouse,butthatonedrawerismysecretshame.
ItseemsfittingthatWilla’sunderwearshouldendupinthere.
Iswipemykeysoffthecounterandstrideoutthefrontdoor.Igetthefeelingmyindecisivenessoverthewholenannythinghasirritatedmydad,soIhopinmytruckandopttogoharassmylittlebrotherinstead.
Godknowshespentenoughyearsgivingmethefewgrayhairsthatnowminglewiththedarkonesnearmytemples.TheleasthecandoishandmeabeerandtellmemoreaboutthisWillapersonbeforeIwriteheroffandmakeSummerandmydadhateme.
BecauseI’mprettysureifIdrawthisoutmuchlonger,they’llbothtellmetogofuckmyselfforbeingsuchapickybitch.
AndI’lldeserveit.
ItonlytakesmeafewminutesonthebackroadtoreachRhettandSummer’sbrand-newhouse.
IseearedJeepWranglerparkednexttothevintagetruckmybrotherdrives.ButSummer’sswankyvehicleisgone.Myfingersitchtograbmyphonefrommypocket,dialherup,anddemandtoknowwheresheisandwhatshe’sdoing.
MaybeI’monextrahighalertwithsomeonenewaroundmykid.Butmostly,Ialwaysfeelthisway.IalwaysfeellikeI’mlookingoutforsomeone.Foreveryone.
I’vehadtheweightoftheworldonmyshoulderssincemymomdiedwhenIwaseight.I’mnotevensureifanyoneputthatweightthereorifIjustdoittomyself.
Eitherway,it’severpresent.Andit’sheavy.
Istompupthefrontstepsofthehouseandbangonthedoor,eventhoughthere’sabell.Hittingsomethingisjustsomuchmoresatisfying.
Withinafewmoments,Ihearfeetpaddingfromtheothersideofthedoor.Icanseemybrother’sformthroughthefrostedglass,andwhenheopensthedoor,he’ssmiling.
SmirkinglikeheknowssomethingIdon’t.
“Where’sSummer?”Iask,cuttingtothechase.
“Nicetoseeyoutoo,jackass.Mywifeisintown.Shehadtoruntothegym.”
Isnort.“She’snotyourwifeyet.Youaren’tmarried.”
Helaughsandwavesmeoff,openingthedoorwider.“Details.Shesaidyes.It’sprettymuchdoneinmybooks.Anditjustsoundssogood,youknow?”
Iwrinklemynoseandstarebackatmylittlebrother.NeverthoughtI’dseehimthisgoneoveragirl.
“Ismykidwithher?”
“Oh,nah.He’soffwithWilla.SummersaidtoremindyouthatyousaidshewasinchargesoshedecidedWillawouldstaywithLukesoshecouldworkatherownbusinessratherthanasyourpersonalassistant.”
Irollmylipstogetherandlookbackoutoverthewide-openfarmland.ThatsoundsexactlylikesomethingSummerwouldsay.Aloopholeinmyinstructionsthatshewouldfind.
Rhettholdshishandsupinsurrenderwhiletryingtoconcealhisamusement.“Herwords,notmine.”
Proppingmyhandsonmyhips,IsighbeforeshiftingmygazebackonRhettandgritout,“TellmeaboutthisWillaperson.Andwhereexactlyisshe?”
“Comesitoutbackwithme.Youlooklikeyouneedabeer.Orten.”
IshakemyheadasIstepintothehouse.“Idonotneedtenbeers.”
Rhettchucklesashesauntersthroughtheopen-concepthousetothekitchen,linedwithglassdoorsthatopenwideontothesprawlingbackdeck.“Yeah.Youdo.Youlooklikeyoucouldkillsomeone.It’snotgoodforyourbloodpressure.Youaren’tgettinganyyounger.”
“Youngenoughtobeatyourass,”ImutterasItoeoffmybootsandfollowhimthroughtothesunnydeck.
Withinmoments,Rhetttossesmeacanofbeerandsteersmetowardachairfacingthefieldthatfunctionsastheirbackyard.Thereisonelonetree.Ahugewillowwithlongsweepingbranchesthatdangleallaround,givingitanalmostcurtain-likeeffect.
IcrackthebeerandputthecoldcantomylipsasRhettsitsintheAdirondackchairnexttome.Summerpaintedthembrightred,cheerfuljustlikeher.
TheyremindmeofWilla’shair.
Fuckinglame.Ipushthethoughtaway.Andthat’swhenIhearit.
“Ican’tdoit.”It’sLuke’slittlevoice,ahintofdistresssoakingthrough.
“Yes,youcan,”theslightlyraspytoneoftheknockoutredheadcomesnext.AndIalmostshootoutofmyseattoruntotherescue.
“Man,justsit.He’sfine.Don’tbeahelicopterparent.It’sannoying.”
Iignoretheinstinct,takeabigswig,andstraintohearwhat’sgoingonbeneaththetree.
“Youwon’tclimbfurtherthanyoucanhandle.You’retoosmartforthat.Trustyourbody.”
“WhatifIfall?”Luke’svoiceisthin.
“Well,IguessI’llstandunderneathyouandyoucanfallonmesothatwebothgethurt.Becauseyou’retoobigtocatch.Andyouaren’tgoingtofallanyway.Justlistentome,okay?”
“Okay,”hesays,asurgeofdeterminationinhistonenow.
Rhettglancesoveratmeandgrins.“WillaGrantisgoodshit,brother.Ifshe’sofferingtotakecareofourboyforthesummer,you’dbeanidiottoturnherdown.Idon’tknowmanypeoplemoreloyalthanher.She’sgotabigheart.”
Ifeellikethere’sastorythereIdon’tknow.ButIalsoknowmybrotherwouldn’tblowsmokeupmyasswhenitcomestoLukeandhiswell-being.
Hervoicetrailsoutfromthetreeagain.“You’regoingtomoveyourrightfootdowntothisbranch.”Apause.“Attaboy.Thenyourlefthandhere.Thenyoushouldbeabletositonthatbranchandjumpdown.”
Icanseehersandaledfeetandtightjeansbehindthebranchesasshemovesaroundpointingthingsouttomyson.Soon,smallsneakeredfeetplunkdownbesideher,followedbylittlehandscatchinginthegrass.
“Ididit!”Lukeshootsup,stilloblivioustothefactthatI’mhere.
“Ofcourse,youdid.Youmadethistreeyourbitch.”
RhettsnortsbesidemeandIglareathim.
“Oh,comeon!Youthinkhehasn’theardthewayyoutalk?”
“I’vespentyearsinstillinggoodmannersinthatkid.”
Hechucklesandshrugs.“Well,ifthat’strue,thenyou’velaidagoodfoundation,andonesummerwithafunnannywon’truinhim.”
Ijustgruntandtakeasip.
Maybe.
“Howhighcanyougo,Willa?”
Iexpecthertoshuthimdown.Orappeasehimwithsomelineabouthowadultsdon’tclimbtrees.Butshewipesherhandsovertheroundglobesofherjean-cladassandsays,“Idunno.Let’ssee.”
Iholdmybeersuspendedinmidair—frozen—asIwatchanadultwomanclimbthethicktrunk.“Isshenuts?”Imutterbeforetakinganotherdrink.
Rhettsnorts.“Alittle.Butinagoodway.”
Luke’sfeetbounceexcitedlyashewatchesher.“Don’tgotoohigh!Whatifyougetstuck?”
“You’dsaveme,”WillacallsbackfromwhatsoundslikemuchhigherupthetreethanIthoughtshe’dgo.
“I’mtoosmall.Butmydadwouldsaveyou!”
Herraspylaughreachesusatthebackdeck.It’sstillasdisarmingasitwasearliertoday.“Idon’tknowaboutthat.Hemightbehappytoleavemeuphere,Luke.”
Ipressmylipstogether.She’snotentirelywrong.Mylifewouldbealotlesscomplicatedifshehadn’twaltzedintoChestnutSpringsthismorning.
Mydickwouldbealotsoftertoo.
“Ohnever.Hehelpseveryone,”mysonreplies,makingmyhearttwistinmychest.SometimesIwonderhowImustseemtohim,howIlookinhiseyes.Andthisonegetsmerightinthegut.
“Soundslikeyou’vegotaprettygreatdad,”Willarepliesinstantly,soundingalittlebreathlessnow.“Howluckyareyou?”
“Yeah…”Luketrailsoffthoughtfully.“Nomomthough.Shemovedawayanddoesn’tvisit.”
Mybrothersucksinabreathfrombesideme,eyesdartinginmydirection.“Goddamn,kidsjustsaywhatevercomestomind,don’tthey?”
Iswallowthicklyandnod.I’veworkedhardtoshieldLukefromtherealityofhismom,ofthechoicesshe’smade—thetypeofpersonsheis.
Ineverwanthimtofeelunwanted.
Willadropstotheground,brushesherhandsagainsteachother,andcrouchesinfrontofmyson.Herheadtipsuptolookhimintheeye,handsstrokinghisupperarmsasshesmilesathim.
“Soundslikeherloss,becauseyoumightbethecoolestkidI’veevermet.”
Shedoesn’tuseasadvoice,orababyvoice,shejusttalkstohimlikeanormalhumanbeing.
“Fuckinghell,”Icurseundermybreathbecauseshejustpracticallyhiredherself.4
Willa
IswallowhardwhenLukepusheshissoftlittlefingersbetweenmyown.IalsoswallowdowntheagitationIfeelatthethoughtofsomeone—amother,noless—notcomingtovisitakidlikethis.
Theuniverseblessedmewithtwobadassparents.Oneswhowouldcrawlthroughglasstogettome.Iwanttobethatkindofmotheroneday.Fierce.Fearless.
Suckingairinthroughmynostrils,Iremindmyselfthatit’snotmybusiness.ThatIdon’tknowthefullstory.Thatmaybethere’sagoodreasonforwhatever’sgoingonwithhismom.Buthisvoiceissosweet,andhishandissochubby,andhe’sbeencrackingmyshitupsinceheannouncedhisdadwearsboxersandnotpanties.
Idon’treallyconsidermyselfakidperson,notinthemushy,heart-eyedkindofway.Haven’tspentenoughtimearoundthemtoknowforsureifIam.UsuallyIjusttalktothemliketinyadults.Butafteryearsofbartending,Iknowpeople.Andnomatterwhathisageis,Lukeisacoolperson.
Givinghishandaquicksqueeze—thathealmostinstantlyreturns—Ipullbackthecurtainofbranches,onlytofindRhettandCadesittingintworedchairsstaringatus.
Thesimilaritiesintheirbodylanguageareimpossibletomiss.ButwhereRhettisallsmiles,Cadeisallscowls.
Allthickarmsandbroadchestandfurrowedbrow.Dirtyboots.Muscularthighs.
Cowboypornwithafrown.
“Dad!”Lukecalls,dartingtowardthedeck.“Didyouseeme?DidyouseeWilla?Sheclimbedsohigh.Iwannalearntoclimbthathigh.UncleRhett,howhighcanyouclimb?”
“Canwenotaskthedaredevilinthisfamilythatquestion?”Cademutters,buthedoesn’tlookathisson.No,hiseyeslatchontome.
Rhettpushesuptohisfeetbesideme.“Idon’tknow,pal.Whydon’twegosee?”
Lukebouncesinplace.“Really?”
“Absolutely,littleman.”RhettsetsdownhiscanofbeerandpadsacrossthedeckbarefootwhileLuketurnsandracesbacktothetree.“Let’sgo!GottaletthepantybanditherechatwithWilla.”
“JesusChrist.Theyalreadytoldyouaboutthat?”CadegrumblesasalaughrumblesinRhett’schest.
Cade’seyessnaptomine,andIbitedownonmybottomliptokeepfromsmilingasIcontinuetowalktowardhim.Thenhisgazedrops,andit’slikehecan’tpeelhiseyesawayfrommymouth.
Ipushmyteethdownuntilitalmosthurtsanddrophisintensestare.
Withinafewmoresteps,I’mfoldingmyselfdownintotheseatbesideCade.“I’mnotsoldonyou,really,”Istart,eventhoughI’malmostpositivethismandoesn’tgiveaflyingfuckwhatIthinkofhim,“butyourkidissomethingelse.”
Ipeekoutthecornerofmyeyeandcan’thelpthetwitchofmylipsasItakeinhisdeepfrown.
“Thanks,”heeventuallygrumbles,clearlyirritatedbyme,butnotenoughtoberudeafterIpayhimacompliment.Itdoesn’ttakearocketscientisttotellthatCadeEaton’sfavoritethingintheworldishisson.
MyimmediateconnectionwithLukeseemstogivemebrowniepointsbyproxyorsomething.
Idipmychin,stillwatchingRhettandLukeacrosstheyard.Idon’twanttoletmyeyeslingertoolongonCadeEaton.He’ssobitchylookingthatImightlaugh,orImightstarelongerthanisappropriate.Becauseyou’dhavetobedeadtonotenjoystaringathim.
He’sgotanintimidatingvibeabouthim.Likeahot,meanteacher.
“I’moutofworkforthesummer,”Isaycasually,notingthewaytheveinsinhishandripplewhenhetightenshisgriponthebeercan.“Myshowhorseisrehabbingfromaninjuryandneedsafewmonthsoff.Mybestfriendintheworldfellinlovewithacockycowboyandmovedaway.Mybrothergotfamousalmostovernightandisafull-blownworkaholic.Andmyparentsareretiredandgallivantingaroundtheglobe.”
Ichancealookupatthedark,forebodingmanbesideme.Evensitting,heseemstall.Onedarkbrowarchesatmewhilehisfacialexpressionremainsimpassive.
Aquietbeatturnsintoanawkwardsilence.AndIhateawkwardsilence.
IflipahandoverasthoughI’mshowinghimsomething.“SoI’mfree.”
Hejustglaresatme.
“Ifyouneedananny.Icouldhelp.”
Hecontinuestoglare,andIcan’thelpbutrollmyeyes.“GoodGod.Doesithurtifyousmile?Orsaysomethingpolite?Whathappenedtothema’amguyfromthecoffeeshop?”
“You’llkeephimsafe?”Hisvoiceisallgravel,hiseyeslikelaserstracingmyfeatures.Andifheweren’tsuchagrumpyasshole,thiswholeoverprotectivedadvibewouldtotallydoitforme.
Inod.“Absolutely.”
Hisgaze,fullofquestionsanddevoidofwarmth,roamsovermyface,searchingforsomething.“Willyouteachhimhowtoknit?”
Mynosewrinkles.“Isthat…isthatlikearequirement?CanIoutsourceit?I’muh…notreallybigonknitting.”
IswearIseeacheektwitch.
“Whatwillyoudowithhim?”
Iblowaraspberryandflopbackinthechair.“Imean,theoptionsareendless.I’mneverbored.Doesherideyet?Icouldgivehimridinglessons.Icouldshowhimmyguitar.Doeshelikemusic?Ilovemusic.Playdateswithsomeotherkids?Cooking?Ooh!Ilovetobake.Howaboutgarden?Ibetyoucouldgrowsomekillerveggiesouthere.”
AllIgetisasmallbobofhishead.
“Youwouldsendmefrequenttextupdates.Ileaveearlyinthemorningbutliketobehomeearlyenoughtospendtimewithhimintheevenings.Iwilldomybesttogiveyouweekendsoff.Iknowyou’reyoungandprobablywanttomaintainsomesortofsociallife.”
Ishrugandchuckle.Istartedbartendingateighteen.Sevenyearslater,mydesiretogooutandpartyisprettymuchshot.
I’lltakeaboozybrunchwithmybestieandadirtybookinbedbyeightforathousand,Alex.
“Notespecially.”
Cadegazesoutoverthebackyard,laughterbubblingfromunderthebigwillowtree.“Okay.”
Isitupstraight.“Okay?”
Henodsonce,decisively.
“Isthatokaylike,WillawillyoupleasecomehelpmethissummerbecauseIwouldappreciateitsomuch?”
HerollshiseyeslikeIexasperatehim.AndI’mprettysureIdo.Imightevenbetryingalittlebit.Ilikethewaythemuscleinhisjawpops,thewayhisAdam’sapplebobsbeneathtawny,tannedskin.
Ievenlikethelittleshimmerofsilverstrandsdustedthroughouthisdarkhair.
Olderguys.They’vealwaysdoneitforme.
Cadeglancesmywaynow,allraspy,ruggedvoiceandrestingbitchface.“Iwouldappreciateyourhelpthissummer,Willa.But—”
Iholdupahand.“Nobuts.Thatwasverypolite.Excellentwork.I’llbebacktomorrowandcanstartthen.ThewayIunderstandit,youneedsomeonerightaway,yes?”Ipushtostand,knowingIshouldn’toverstaymywelcomeorlethimgettoomanydemandsin.
Icanalreadytellhe’sthattypeofman.Exacting.Specific.Knowswhathewantsandexpectsyoutodeliver.
“Yes,”hebitesout,eyesperusingmybodycritically.
Igivehimacheerythumbsup,notsurewhattomakeofhim.NotsureitmatterssinceI’llspendmostofmytimewithhissonanyway.“Seeyoutomorrow,then.I’llgetyournumberfromSummerandletyouknowwhereI’mat.”Iturntoleave,mentallyrunningthroughallthethingsIneedtodotogetready.Forsomepeople,uprootingtheirlifeatthedropofahatwouldbestressful.They’dneedlistsandplans.
Butnotme.I’vealwaysflownbytheseatofmypants.NoideawhereI’mgoing,justkindof…alongfortheride.Lifeismoreexcitingthiswayanyhow.Jobs,men,materialshit,noneofitseemspermanentformeyet.
MydadsaysI’munsettled.MymomsaysIjusthaven’tfoundaplaceIwanttosettledownyet.AndIthinkshe’sright.Plus,thepressureofsucceedingthewayeveryoneelseinmyfamilyhasisdownrightcrippling.
Undecidedseemseasierthanfailing.
RightwhenIgettothebackdoorIhear,“Willa.”Cadesaysmynamelikeit’sademand.“Youneedtowearproperundergarmentswhileyou’reatwork.Youcan’tbedroppingthemoutofyourpursearoundachild.”
Iswearmyfeetgrowrootsandmyjawdrops.Thefuckingnerve.
IfIdidn’tactuallykindofwantthisgig,I’dmarchoverthereandlayintohimforbeinganoverstepping,presumptuousprick.
Undergarments.Whatyearevenisthis?Andwhywouldtheytraumatizeakid?
Hemighttechnicallybemyemployerforthenextcouplemonths,butI’mtheonedoinghimafavor.Idon’tneedtheincome;Ijustneedapurpose.SoIopttodowhatwillpisshimoffevenhimevenmore.
Iriseabove.
Well,sortof.
IplasteronthesweetestsmileIcanmusterandturntolookbackovermyshoulder.“I’llbereadyforyourinspectiontomorrow,boss.”
ThenIwinkandsaunteraway,feelingtheweightofhisgazeonmybodyandknowinghe’sprobablywonderingifI’mwearinganyundergarmentsrightnow.5
Cade
Summer:She’sgoingtobegreat.You’regoingtoloveher.
Cade:No.I’mnot.I’mgoingtotolerateher.
Summer:Po-tay-to,po-tah-to!Justbenice.
Cade:Iamnice.
Summer:No.You’rekindofanasshole.
Cade:Withfamilylikeyoutellingmethingslikethis,Ijustcan’timaginewhy.
Summer:Don’tworrythough.It’spartofyourcharm.
Cade:I’macharmingasshole?
Summer:Exactly!
***
IwishIcouldpretendI’mnotstandingonthefrontporchwaitingforher.ButIam.
Shegratesonmynerves,sure.ButmykidseemstolikeherandI’mstillagentlemanatmycore.
Ipullmycellphoneoutofmybackpocketandcheckthetime.Mycountdownison.Sheseemslikethetypeofpersonwhowouldbelate.Scattered.Disorganized.
OrmaybeIjustwanthertobesoIcanbejustifiedinnotlikingher.Ifshe’slatethefirsttimewemakeanagreement,I’llbeabletoshoweveryonethatIwasright.Thatsheisn’tresponsibleenoughtotakecareofLuke.
Truthfully,Idon’tknowwhois.Idon’ttrusteasily.Especiallynotwomen
Shehassixminutes.
Ismiletomyself,propahipagainstthebanister,feelinglikethere’sagoodchanceI’llberight.
Andit’satthatmomentthecrunchingofgraveldrawsmygazeup.
It’satthatmomentI’mprovenwrong.
BecauseWilla’sredJeepisrollingdownmydrivewayfiveminutesearly.
Shepullsrightupbesidemyblacktruckandhopsout.Istareatherfeet,startingatherConversesneakers,lettingmyeyestrailuplong,slenderlegstosimpledenimcutoffstoppedwithanoversized,distressedLedZeppelinshirt.There’saholeinitnearherstomach,andIcanseealittlepeekofmilkyskinthroughit.
BigRay-Banaviatorssitonhernose,andhercopperyhairiswildandwavyaroundhershoulders.Itframesherdelicatefacelikedancingflames.Awispofitblowsacrossherlips.
Thelipsthatareallglossyandtippedupinasmirk.
“You’reearly,”Igrowl,becauseIdon’tknowwhatelsetosay.Ican’tpeelmyeyesoffofher,eventhoughIwantto.Eventhoughshe’snotatallmytypeatthispointinmylife.
Shehascitygirlwrittenalloverher.Shehaswildchildwrittenalloverher.She’snotsomesweet,small-towngirl.
She’sthegirlwhotoldmeshe’dbereadyformetoinspectherundergarmentsanddidn’tthinktwiceaboutit.
Shehastemptationwrittenalloverher.
Butshedoesn’tactlikeit,insteadsheshrugsandpullshersunglassesoffherface,pinningmewithheremeraldeyes.Thekindofeyesthatstopyouinyourtracks.
Ifnothingelse,WillaGrantisastunner.
Tooyoungforme.Toounpredictableforme.
Butastunnerallthesame.
“Iwasexcitedtogetouthere.”
Iblinkatherbecause,well,whatamIsupposedtosaytothat?I’mherecountingallthewaysinwhichshe’saproblemforme,andshe’sjustexcitedtobehereandtakecareofmychild.
MaybeIamtheassholeeveryonetellsmeIam.
“Willa!”Lukecomestearingoutofthehouselikeabatoutofhell,sockedfeetstraightdownthedirtpathandontothegraveldriveway.Heknowsbetterbuthasn’tstoppedtalkingaboutWillasincesheleftyesterday.Poorkidissostarvedforfemaleattentionthatallsomeoneneedstodoisclimbatreewithhimandhehasthemuponapedestal
Hecomestoascreechinghaltinfrontofher.“I’msogladyou’rehere.”
Willalaughs,allprettyandsexy,withalittlerasp—likeshesmokesorsomething.AndI’mwonderingifshedoes.Ididn’taskherifshesmokes.
Shecrouchesinfrontofhimandruffleshissofthair.“I’msogladtobehere.We’regoingtohavethebestsummer.”
“Whatarewegoingtodo?”Hiseyesgoallsparkly,excitementpouringoffhim.
“Everything,”shereplies,wavingahandinawidearc.“Allthethings.”
Mybrowsfurrowfromtheirownfruition.IwantLuketohavefun,butnottoomuchfun.
Shereadsmyexpressionbecausehereyestwinklewithamusement.“Cliffdiving.Bullriding.I’lleventeachyouhowtoshotgunabeer.”
Ishakemyheadatherasmylipsflatten,alreadyseeingmypeacefulsummerswirlingdownthedrain.
She’sgoingtodrivemeupthefuckingwall.
Luke’snosewrinkles.“Beerisgross.”
Shejustlaughsagain.“Smartanswer,kid.I’mjustjoking.ButIhavelotsoffunideas.Helpmegetmysuitcaseinside?”
“Ofcourse!”myson’ssugaryvoiceexclaimsasheslideshishandintoherswithouthesitation.
Igroanandstridedownthestairs,coveringthegroundquicklytoreachthebackofherJeepatthesametimetheydo.Holdingahanduptostopthem,Igrumble,“I’vegotthis.”
“Verychivalrous.Thankyou,Mr.Eaton.”
Ibitedownontheinsideofmycheek.Mr.Eaton.Thatmakesmefeellikeanoldperv.
Orlikemydad.Whichispossiblythesamething.
ButIdon’tcorrecther,becausetheoldpervpartofmelikesit.Instead,Iopenthebackhatchandpullouthermassivesuitcase.
“Iwanttoshowyoumyroom!”Lukesays,likeanexcitedsquirrelwithanutthatcan’tfigureoutwheretoputit.
It’shonestlykindofendearing.
Iheavethesuitcaseoutjustintimetowatchthemwalkhandinhandintomyhouse,andforsomereason,Istopandwatch.Unabletolookaway.Lotsofpeoplehavewalkedthroughthatfrontdoor.
Butsomehowthisfeelsdifferent.
***
“Inbedbyeight.”
Willanods,faceperfectlyseriouseventhoughI’mprettysurethere’sapartofherthat’smockingme.“Okay.”
We’resittingacrossfromeachotheratthewhiteovaltableinmylivingroom,facingoffnowthatLukeisasleepforthenight.Willahascrossedherforearmsovereachother,andI’mstilltryingtostealglimpsesofherskinthroughtheholeinherT-shirt.
“Nosugarafterdinner.”
Sherearsback,eyeswidening.“Notevendessert?”ShesoundslikeI’vejusttoldherIkickpuppiesorsomething.
“Notonweeknights.”
“Yourulewithanironfist,DaddyEaton.”
Igroan,cheekspinchingupindistaste.“That’swhatwecallmydad.”
Asilentpuffofairslipsfromherlips,thebottomonemorefullthanthetop.“DaddyCadeitis.”
I’mnotsurewhatIdidtodeservethistorture,butitmustbesomethingterrible.IliketothinkI’velivedastraightandnarrowsortoflife,yetI’vebeenhandedheartacheafterheartache,challengeafterchallenge.Itseemsliketheuniversecouldhavegrantedsomesortofreprieve.
ButitgrantedmeWillafuckingGrant.
“No.”
Shesmirksandtiltsherheadinchallenge.
“You’llsendmetextmessageupdatesthroughoutthedaysothatIdon’tworry.Keepmeapprisedofyouractivities.”
“Isthissomethinghisteachersdoforyouwhilehe’satschool?”
Ileanback,scanningherupanddown.IfeelthesneertouchmylipsbeforeIcanstopit.“No.ButItrustthem.Ilikethem.”
Willablinksslowly,staringatmealmostblankly.ThesilencestretchesasherstareshiftsintowhatI’msureismoreofaglare.
Maybeitwasadickthingtosay,butI’mnotknownforgivingpeoplethewarmandfuzzies.EverytimeI’vedonethat,I’vewalkedawayalittlelesswholethanIstarted.
Neveragain.
I’vegotnothinglefttogiveifLukewantsadadwhocanbehappyandpresent.
“Iknowyoudidn’tjustsaythattome.”
Iliftoneshouldercarelessly.“Suredid.”
Thesmileshegivesmeisflat,hereyesdull—alltracesofplayfulnessevaporated.“Well,inthatcase,I’llbegoing.”
Shescootsherchairawayefficiently,pushestostand,spinsonaheelandleavesmesittingatmytable,staringatherperfectass.
“Willa.”
Shedepositsherglassofwaterinthesinkbutignoresme.
“Willa.”
SheignoresmeandturnstoheaddownthehalltowardtheguestbedroomwhereLukesohappilyhelpedhergetsettledacoupleofhoursearlier.Icouldhearhimchatteringawayather.Askingheraboutherhorse.Aboutherguitar.Aboutwhatherfavoritetypeofsnakewas.Likethat’sanormalquestionyouaskwhengettingtoknowsomeone.
IfIdidn’tthinkitwouldwakeLukeupandupsethim,I’draisemyvoicerightnow.ButI’mstuckwhisper-shouting“Willa”andshe’snotfuckinglistening.
Withagrowl,Istandandstrideafterher.PastLuke’sroomandrighttothedoorofherbedroomthatveersoffthelonghallwaybeforeitwouldleadtomymasterbedroomattheveryend.
“Willa.”Icatchthedoorjustbeforeshecanquietlycloseit.Obviously,she’stryingnottowakemysonaswell,somethingIappreciate,becausehedoesn’tneedtobeapartofthisconversation.
Istandonthehardwoodfloorofthehallway,andshestandsonthecarpetinthebedroom.Abrassdividershinesonthegroundbetweenuslikealineinthesand.Meversusher.
“Whatareyoudoing?”Iask.
“Leaving,”shedeadpans.
“Why?”
Hereyesrollassheturnsawayfrommeandstartssettingthingsbackintoherbarelyunpackedsuitcase.“BecauseI’mnotspendingmysummerlivingwithawomanhaterwhodoesn’ttrustmeandwillbeanover-the-topcontrolfreaktheentiretimeI’mhere.”
Ilurchbackalittlelikeshe’sslappedme.“I’mnotawomanhater.”
Shebendsovertograbapairofpink,fluffyslippers.Thekindthatwouldmeltintoplasticintheheatofafire.Itrynottofixateonthewayhershortscreepupthesmoothskinonherthighs.“Youshouldtryhardernottolookatmelikeyouhateme,then.”
It’snotthefirsttimepeoplehavetoldmethis.Butit’sthefirsttimeI’vefacedtherealityofhowitmightmakethemfeel.It’snotintentional.I’mprettysureit’sjustmydefaultfacialexpressionnow.Mysmilingmuscleshavelostalltheirtone.
“Idon’thateyou.”
Sherises,awrylaughtwistingherfeaturesashercopperwavesflyaroundherneck.“Couldhavefooledme.”
“I’msorry.”
Herchinjutsout,andsheholdsupahandtoherear.“Pardon?IthinkImisheardthat.”
“I’m.Sorry.”Ibiteout.“I’mhavingahardtimelettinghimgo.”
Iwatchhershouldersfallasshehissesoutasigh.“That’sfair.Butthere’snoamountofmoneyintheworldyoucouldpaymetostayhereandbeyourpunchingbagallsummer.”
Ifuckinglovethepaironthisgirl.IfIweren’tsoirritatedbyhowattractedIamtoher,I’dbecheeringheron.
IglanceovermyshouldertowardLuke’sroom,wheremyentireworldissleeping.Thelittleboywhoisexcitedattheprospectofspendingthenextcoupleofmonthswiththefirecrackerinfrontofme.
“Stay,”Imutter,holdingahanduptostopherandstaringdownatthatlineonthefloor.Theonestoppingmefromstorminginthereanddraggingherbackouttothetableandforcinghertolistentome.
Shestopsshovingstuffintoherbagandturnstofaceme,crossesherarmsbeneathhergenerousbreastsandcocksahip.Ifattitudewereaperson,she’dbeit.
“Beg.”
“Pardonme?”
“Youheardme.”Herlipsdon’teventwitch.She’snotjokingatall.“Beg.”
Mycheeksheatagainstmywill.Myheartthundersinmychest.She’sgotmesoonmyheelsit’snotevenfunny.Ican’tallowittolast.ButcanIsuckitupforthesakeofmakingherturnherassaround?
Maybe.
“Pleasestay.”
Shedoesn’treactotherthantoarchaneyebrow.
“Don’tleave.”
Herlipsrolltogetherinthemostdistractingway.
Isigh,proppingmyhandsonmyhipsandstaringupatthestippledceilingaboveme.
“Lukeiseverythingtome,andIwanthimtohaveafunsummer.Properfun.Sometimeshe’sstuckoutonthisranchwithabunchofadults,andIworryhedoesn’tgetenoughattentionfrommebecauseIworksuchlonghours.AndIneedhelpbecauseit’salljustwaytoomuch.I’mfuckingexhausted.”Mychindrops,andIlookherintheeye.“Ireallyneedyourhelp.Pleasestay.”
Thecolumnofherthroatshifts,andhereyestakeonaslightlyglassyquality.Withafewsoftsteps,shecomestostandrightinfrontofme.Shesmellslikecitrusandvanilla.Likesomefancypastryatthecoffeeshopintown.Ican’thelpbutleaninjustalittlebit.
Shedrawsclose.Italmostfeelstoocloseinthedimlylitroom.Toointimateinthequiethouse.Itfeelslikethekindofmomentwhereyoucouldmakeamistakeandnoonewouldeverknow.
AndmaybeIalreadymadeamistaketonight,ormaybeI’mabouttomakeone.UsuallyI’msosureofmyself.Butinthisinstance,I’mstrugglingtotellrightfromwrong.
“Fine.”Shesticksherhandouttome,andIinstantlyletmypalmmeethers.Icanfeelthedaintyboneinherwristagainstthepadsofmycallousedfingers.“Iwillsendyoutexts.Iwillkeephimmostlysugarfree.Butifyouactlikeadick,I’mgoingtocallyououtonit.”
“Ihavenodoubtyouwill,Red.”
We’restillshakinghands.It’sahandshakethathaslastedlongerthanisproper.It’sathreatorapromise—I’mjustnotsurewhich.6
Willa
Willa:Ijustgotup.
Cade:Okay?
Willa:I’mmakingcoffee.
Cade:Alright.
Willa:I’mgettingdressedfortheday.Panties?CHECK.
Cade:Toomuchinformation.
Willa:Lukeisnowawake.
Cade:Ohgood.
Willa:Hepeed.
Cade:Thebed?
Willa:No.Inthetoilet.Soundedlikeabigone.LikewhenAustinPowerscomesoutofbeingfrozenorwhatever.
Cade:Whyareyoutellingmethis?
Willa:Justkeepingyouapprisedof*everythingwedo!!!*
Cade:Ialreadyregrettellingyouthat.
Willa:Oh,I’mjustgettingstarted.
Cade:Willa.
Willa:RememberthattimeyouBEGGEDmetostay?
***
“Let’sjustputsomebackinthebag!”Lukesays,standingonachairbesidemeatthekitchencounteraswestareintothebowlofpancakemix.
Thepancakemixthatisnowmorechocolatechipsthanbatter.I’mnomathematician,butI’mprettysurethisratioisoff.Iforgotthatchildren’smotorskillsaren’tsuperrefinedandhandingLukeabagofchocolatechipstoputinmightnothavebeenthemoststrategicplanI’vecomeupwithinmylife.
“Dude.Wecan’tputthembackin.”
Heshrugs,notlookingsadaboutit.“Iguesswe’lljusthavetoeatthem.”
Itrynottolaugh.IfIdidn’tknowanybetter,I’dthinkhediditonpurpose.“Guessso.”
Wemovehischairovertothestove,andIreadhimtheriotactabouthotelements,tellinghimthathisdadwillburymeinahayfieldsomewhereifIlethimgetburned.
HegigglesandtellsmeI’mhilarious.
I’veneverfeltcoolerthanIdohangingoutwithafive-year-old.
Especiallywhenhesitsacrossfrommeatthetable,patshisbellywithstickychocolatefingersandexclaims,“Youmightbebetteratcookingthanmydad!”
Ipointmyforkathim.“Icannotwaittotellhimthat.”
Hislittleblueeyesgocomicallywide.“Youcan’ttellhimthat.He’llbesad.”
“Don’tstress,littleman,”Ireply,tryingnottomeltoverhowsweetitisthathe’ssoworriedabouthisdad.“Yourdadwillbeabletohandletheloss.”
Hesighsdeeplyandgazesatmeexpectantly.“Whatnow?”
“Anythingyouwant.”Igrabmyplateashepicksuphisandhandsittome.
“Anything?”
Ipeerdownathim,onebrowshiftingup.“Almostanything.”
“Oneofthekidsatschoolsaidthatheandhisdaddrovereallyfastdownthebackroadsandthrewheadsoflettuceoutthewindowandwatchedthemexplodeontheroad.”
Istareatthelittleboy,allearnestandgenuine.It’slikehedoesn’tevenrealizewhatmajorlyhillbillyshithejustaskedmetodo.
Goddamn,smalltownsareweird.
“It’sdayone.Areyoutryingtogetmefired?”
“Youcan’tgetfired.Welikeyoutoomuch!”
“Whoiswe?”Iask,loadingthedishwasher.AndIfreezemomentarilywhenhisresponseis,“Mydadandme.”
Iwillnotbursthisbubblebytellinghimthathisdaddoesnot,infact,likeme.Hejustneedsmyhelpandisstuckbetweenarockandahardplace.
AhardplacewhereI’mliterallyhislastandonlyoption.
Ishrug.“Okaysure,whynot?”
Hillbillyshititis.
***
ItakethetopoffmyJeep,andwecruisetothegrocerystoreblastingsomeofmyfavorite’80shits.LukecacklesmaniacallyfromhisseatinthebackwhenIdomybestBillyIdolimitation.
IrolledmyeyeswhenIsawtheboosterseatalreadyinstalledinthebackseat.ItoldCadeIcouldhandleit,buthewentintomyvehiclewhileIwassleepinganddiditanyway.
Controlfreak.
IntownIeasilyfindthegrocerystore.Itookabitofadetouronmywayouttotheranchandgavemyselfapeptalk.IconsideredturningmyassaroundandheadingbacktothecitywhereIcouldsticktowhat’scomfortable,butI’veneverbeenonetosaynotonewexperiences.SoIpulledmyselfupbythebootstrapsandgotalayofthelandsoIwouldn’tbetotallyuselesswithoutsomeoneshowingmearound.
“Howmanyarewegetting?”IaskLuke,whoisstruttingthroughthegrocerystorelikeatinyking.Cowboyheirtothedeerantlerthrone.Orsomethingequallyrustic.
“Ten,”herepliesdecisively.
“Ten?That’salot.”
“It’sjusttherightamount.”
Istareatthesectionoficeberglettucebeforeus.Ifwetaketen,we’reclearingoutmorethanhalfofwhat’shere.“Five.”
Hisheadshootsinmydirectionsoquickly,littlebrowsfurrowing.Heinstantlylookslikehisdad.“Seven.”
Ipressmylipstogethersoharditalmosthurts.Thiskidistoosmart.“Five,finaloffer.”
Alittlespotonhisjawpops,andIamdying.HeisaminiatureCade.Takeawayeyecolorandtheresemblanceisuncanny.Hilarious.“Fine.”
“You’regoingtobeboredafterthree,”Isupply,whilereachingforthefirstheadoflettuce.
“Iamnot!”
Iturnandquirkabrowathim.“Luke.Imaybenewhere,butI’mgoingtotellyouwhatItoldyourdad.Mindyourtone.YouandIaren’tgoingtotalktoeachotherlikethat.OrI’llputyoubacktobedforanap.”
Hisbabyblueswiden.“Napsareforbabies.”
“Agreed.Butifyouactlikeone,Imightgetconfused.”
Hesighsheavilyandoffersmeabriefnodbeforereachingforanotherhead.“I’msorry.”
“Thankyouforapologizing.Thatwasverynot-baby-like.”
AsmiletoucheshislipsandImirrortheexpression.Ifeellikethetwoofusjustcametosomesortofunderstanding.
Whenweturntoleave,I’mmetwithafarlessfriendlyglare.
“Whoareyou?”awomanasks,handproppedonherhipwithagrocerybasketintheoppositehand.ThewayshedrawsoutyouremindsmeofthecaterpillarinAliceinWonderlandpuffingoutsmokeO’s.Butallshe’sblowingatmeisbadbreath.
Notafanofthewayshe’sglaringatmeeither.Upanddownwithalittlesneeronherface,likeI’myesterday’sroadkill.
Regardless,Ismilesweetly—alittletoosweetly—andsay,“I’mWilla.”
Thewomansniffs,thetipofhernosewiggling.I’mhavingahardtimeplacinghowoldshemightbe.Theminiskirtandrhinestonesneakersmakemethinkyoung,buttheheavymakeupflakinginthecreasesonherforeheadmakesmethinkolder.It’safascinatingdichotomy.
“WhatareyoudoingoutwithCade’sboy?”ShebendsdownabittoaddressLuke.“Youokay,honey?Doyouneedmyhelp?”
AnearnestandconfusedlookiswhatLukegivesherback,followedby,“Yeah?”
Herearsbackalittle,andIthinkitmighthavetodowithherbreath.Tobefair,I’dliketogetasfarawayaspossibletoo.
“Yousure,baby?Isthiswomantakingyousomewhereyoudon’twanttogo?”
Irollmyeyes.“IfIwerekidnappingachild,Iwouldn’tstopatagrocerystoretobuyfiveheadsoflettucefirst.I’mhisnanny.”
Hereyesnarrow,butsheturnsthembackonme.“Iappliedforthatjob.”Shesniffsagainasshestraightens.
“Yeah,andmydaddysaidhe’dratherrollaroundinthemanurepilethanhireyou.”
Myeyesnearlypopoutofmyheadrightasmyhandslapsovermymouthtocontainmyamusement.ThisisamomentwhereIneedtobehavemoregrown-upthanI’mfeelinginside.
Thewomanblinksrapidly,heatrisingonherneck.Ihonestlyfeelbadforher.Imean,wecan’tbeoffendedbythethingsafive-year-oldsays…butwecanbeoffendedbythethingsmenwhoarepushingfortysay.
“I’msosorry.”IscoopLuke’shandintomyownandgiveheranapologeticlook.“I,uh,Ihopeyouhavealovelyday.”Smilingbrightly,IdragLuketowardthetill,feelingsogratefulthatI’mofftoagoodstartinthissmalltown.
Droppingmypantiesandinsultingthelocals.Andit’sonlydaytwo.
Ikeepthatsmileplasteredonmyfacethroughoutthecheckout.Itfeelslikepeoplearegivingusweirdlooks.IswearIcanfeeltheireyesonme.Theirjudgment.Maybeit’sinmyhead.Maybeit’snotrealatall.
AllIknowisthatIcan’tgetoutoftherefastenough.I’mnotusedtolivingsomewherethateveryonerecognizesyou.I’msureit’swhymyparentstravelsomuch.Togetawayfromthepeoplewhostopthemandaskforautographsallthetime.Tojustbe
“Okay,getin,littleman.”Iopenthebackdoorofmyjeepandtossthebagsoflettuceinthefront.
“DidIdosomethingwrong?”heasks,climbingintohisseat.
Isigh,watchinghislittlehandspullthestrapdownoverhisshoulderandthenstrugglewiththebuckle.Ireachacrosshimandlendahand,pullingawaywhenIhearthetelltaleclick.“Yesandno.Sometimestherearethingswedon’tsayoutloud.”
Nopointinbeatingaroundthebush.
Iroundthevehicleandhearhisconfused,“Whatdoyoumean?”throughtheopentop.
“WhatImean,”Istart,gettingintothevehicleandbucklingmyselfin,“isthattherearethingswethinkinourheadsorsaytootherpeoplewhoweknowandtrustthatwedon’tsharepublicly.Solikewhenyourunintopeoplelikewejustdid,wemightthinkaboutit,butdon’tsayit.It’sabubblethought.”
“What’sabubblethought?”
Ifeellikehe’smissingmypointhere.
“Everreadacomic?Orseeoneinthenewspaper?Yourdadseemslikethetypeofpersonwhoreadsthenewspaper.”
“Onlyontheweekends,”LukesuppliesasIbackout.
Figures.
“Okay,socomicbookcharacterssometimesthinkthingsthattheydon’tsayoutloud.Andthat’sdrawnasthoselittlebubblescomingoutoftheirhead.Sosometimes—bubblethoughts.Thatway,youdon’thurtanyone’sfeelingswhenyousayitoutloud.Gotit?”
“Whenyoucalledmydadawomanhater,wasthatabubblethought?”
Shiiiiittttttt
Calledoutbyafive-year-old.
I’mteachingakidaboutbubblethoughtswhenIhaven’tmasteredtheconceptmyself.
Iswallowandpeerbackathimintherearviewmirror.“Yeah.Itwasabubblethought.Sometimestheyslipoutonthebestofus.”
“Whatdoyoudowhenthathappens?”
IgroanandstarehardattheroadinfrontofmeaswecruisedownthemainstreettowardtheemptyfieldsthatheadbacktoWishingWellRanch.
“Youapologize,”Isay,feelinglikeaheapingpileoftrashforsayingwhatIsaid.Madeevenworsebytheknowledgethathissonheardme.
“Mydadwillacceptyourapology.Helikesyou.”
“Howdoyouknowhelikesme?”He’smentionedthistwicenow,andhonestly,I’mdownrightconfused.
“Becausehehasn’tsaidathingaboutrollingaroundinthemanurepile.”
Isnort.Becausethat’sthebar.IfCadeEaton“likes”you,you’llknowbecausehewon’tmentionhispreferenceforrollingaroundinhorseshit.
Withinminuteswe’reonabackcountryroadandourseriousconversationturnstosquealsofjoyasthewise-beyond-his-yearskidinthebackseattossesheadsoffuckinglettuceoutthewindowandlaughshysterically.
Ilaughtoo.7
Cade
Willa:I’msorryIcalledyouawomanhater.
Cade:It’sfine.
Willa:DoyouknowwhatthefirstthingIdidthismorningwas?
Cade:Willa,I’mworking.Ifeverythingisokay,wedon’tneedtochat.
Willa:Iputmypantieson.
Willa:Areyouignoringme?
Willa:Ifiguredyou’dbeproud.DayoneandI’mknockingalltherulesrightoutofthepark.
Cade:IfIpayyoumore,willyoustoptextingmeaboutthis?
Willa:Probablynot.Idon’tneedthemoney.I’mjusteasilybored,andpokingthebearisfun.
***
“Howwasyourfirstday?”IaskasWillacutsintooneofthechickenbreastsIwhippedupforustheminuteIgotinthedoor.
Itwasastrangetransition.It’slikeshedidn’trealizeshewasofftheclockassoonasIwalkedinthehouse.Sheofferedtocookdinner,andIshotheradeathglare.Ilovecookingdinner;it’showIunwindattheendoftheday.It’swhenIgettospendtimewithLuke.
IthinkIexpectedtheglaretosendherscurryingtoherroom,butallshedidwasrollhereyesatme.
Offeringtohelpwithdinnerisn’tacrime,andIneedtogetoverthisideathatI’lljustbeabletosnapmyfingersandhaveherdisappearwhenIwalkinthedoor.
It’sanunfamiliarfeelingwalkingintoahouseinfullswing.OnewhereIcanhearmyson’sgigglesandWilla’ssoft,raspytones.
“Wehadagreatday,didn’twe,Luke?”Shegrinsoverathim,andhegrinsback.
He’ssmitten.
WhenIgothome,theywereplayingdinosaursoutside.IcanhonestlysayI’veneverheardawomanmakethenoisesthatWillawasmaking.Somecombinationofagoosehonkingandadonkeybraying,intermingledwiththatlight,charm-likelaughter.
ShewasstompingaroundwithherhandsfoldedupinfrontofherlikethosetinyT.rexarms.
Shelookedinsaneandcarefree.
Andfuckingbeautiful.
“OtherthanplayingDinosaurRanch,whatdidthetwoofyougetupto?”
“Nothing,”Lukesaysaltogethertooquickly,andIseeaflashofshinycopperhairasWilla’sheadflipsinhisdirection.Oneperfectlymanicuredeyebrowarchingathim.
Herbullshitdetectioniswell-honed.Isupposethatcomeswithworkingwithchildren.
Mineisjustfromwadingthroughbullshiteverydamnday.Thosegoddamncowboysinthebunkhouse.Mybrothers.Towndrama.Myex.
Theonlypersonwhodoesn’texhaustmeismylittlesisterViolet.Butthatcouldbejustbecauseshemovedawaytothecoast.
“Wedidn’tdonothing,Luke.”Willaspearsagreenbean,andItrynottogetdistractedbythewaysheslidesitintohermouth.
“We…”Mysonflipshisgazebetweenus.Guiltyasallget-out.“Madepancakes!Withchocolatechips!Lotsandlotsofchocolatechips.”
Willawincesassheglancesbackdownatherplate.Whenshepeeksupandcatchesmestaringather,shesays,“What?Yousaidnosugarafterdinner.”
Shakingmyhead,IturnmyattentionbackonLuke.“Whatelse?”
“Nothing—”hestarts,rightasWillasays,“WeboughtheadsoflettuceandthenthrewthemoutthewindowofmyJeep.”
MylipsrolltogetherasIcastaquickglanceinherdirection,seeingthatshelooksentertainedandfuckingclueless.
“Luke.”Helooksterrified.It’ssohardtogivemykidshitwhenhe’sthiscute.ButIdon’tgettheprivilegeofplayinggoodcop,badcopwithanotherparent.Igetstuckdoingallthedirtywork.Dolingoutallthescolding.SomedaysIworryabouthowthatmakesmeseemtohim,butsomeone’sgottakeephimonthestraightandnarrow.
Someone’sgottakeephimsafe.
“Sorry!”heexclaims,shrinkingdowninhisseatwhileWilla’sheadswivelsbetweenus.
“Whyarewesorry?”
Isighdeeply,shakingmyheadandsawingintomychickenbreastwithaltogethertoomuchforce.“LukehasalreadyaskedtothrowlettuceheadsoutthewindowandItoldhimno.”
Lukecan’tevenholdmyeyes,andWilla’sjawdropsasshestaresbackathim.“Dude!Seriously?”
Hislittlelipsclampdownashecurlsinonhimself.He’snotabadkid,he’sjustgotalittlebitofarebelliousstreak.IguesshecomesbyithonestlyasanEatonboy.
“IthoughtDadmeanthejustdidn’twanttodoit.”HeturnspleadingeyesonWilla.“Yousaidyouhadfundoingit!”
“Luke—”IstartbutWillacutsin.
“Webothknowyou’resmarterthanthat,Luke.Youtrickedme.Onpurpose.Notcool.Ihadfun,butknowingthatyouliedtomeaboutitruinsallthefun.”Shesaysitwithnothingmeaninhertone,butLukelooksdevastated.
Ileanbackinmychair,crossingmyarmsovermychest,alittlesurprisedbyhertakingthisseriouslyratherthanlaughingmeoff.AndalittlerelievedthatIdon’thavetolayintohim—again.
“I’msorry.”Hiseyesareinstantlyshrink-wrapped.He’sasensitivekid.Itdoesn’ttakemuchtoputhimbackinplace.
Willanods,takinganothergreenbeanbetweenherlips.“Iknowyouare.You’reagoodperson.Butwhenyoutrickme,itbreaksmytrust.Andyourdadistrustingmetokeepyousafe,andweneedtorespecthisrules,atleastsometimes.Becausenowwe’vebrokenhistrusttoo.Doesthatmakesensetoyou?”
There’sapartofmethatwantstojumpinandprotectLuke.Butthefactofthematteris,Willaisright.She’stalkingtohimrespectfully,likeanadult,andIcan’tfaulther.
I’malsojustsorelievedtohavesupport,evenifitcomesintheformofWillaGrant.Theredheadedmouthpiecewhomakeseatinggreenbeanslookpornographic.
BecausemydadjustactslikeLukeishilariousallthetime—whichisfine.Infact,that’swhyIdon’twanthimtobeLuke’sfull-timecaretaker.Idon’twanttoruintheirfriendship.Ialsodon’twantLuketoturnintoMowgli.Alittlewildboyraisedbyapackofwildmenalllivingtogetheronaranch.
It’sfuckingweirdifIthinkaboutittoomuch.
“I’msorry,Dad,”Lukesayscarefully.
“Iknowyouare,buddy.”
“Ijustwantedtohavesomefun.Itsoundedsofun!Itreallywasfun!”
“We’reranchers—farmers,Luke.It’sawasteofgoodfood.”
“Iknow,”hereplies,defeated.Andthenhebrightensasheglancesupatme.“NexttimeyoucovertheJansen’stractorintoiletpaper,canIdoittoo?”
Howthefuckdoesheknowaboutthatprank?
IseeWilla’slipstwitch,butshekeepsherfocusfixedonherplate.Andthenshegoesforanothergreenbean,andIhavetolookaway.
Thiskidisgoingtobethedeathofme.
Andsoishisgoddamnnanny.
***
PuttingLuketobedismyfavoritepartofthenight.Thecuddles.Thestories.Thethingshetellsmeinthesafetyofhisdark,peacefulroom.Hegoesallsoftandsweet,andwetalkaboutthingsthatdon’tcomeupthroughouttheday.It’swhyI’llnevergiveupthatpartofhisschedule.
Mysecondfavoritepartofthenight?Ahottubtosootheawaytheachesoftheday.Aquietmomentinmymostfrivolouspurchase.Timealonetostareupatthestarsandenjoyalittlesolitude.
WhichiswhatI’mdoing,headtippedback,armsdrapedovertheouteredges,whenIhearthebackdoorclickshut.Mylidspopopen,andIseeWilla’ssilhouettethroughtherisingsteamaroundme.
“Shit,sorry.I’llleave,”shewhispers,turningtogo,towelwrappedaroundhertallframe.
Asmartmanwouldsay,Yes,pleaseleave.That’sanexcellentidea.
Iamnotasmartman.
Instead,Iblurtout,“It’sfine.”Afterall,Itoldhertomakeherselfathomeandusewhatevershewanted.Truthfully,Ican’tblameapersonforwantingtosoakouthereafterchasingafive-year-oldallday.
“Yousure?Ithoughtyouwereinbed.”It’shardtohearherbecause,foronce,shesoundsalittleuncertain.It’shardtoseehertoothroughtheheatedhazerisingoffthebubblingwater.Theshapeofherisonlyhighlightedbytheglowfromwithinthehouse,seepingthroughtheslidingglassdoors.
Ishouldstopusingtherisingsteamasanexcusetostareatherthishard.It’srude.She’sinhertwentiesandIdon’twanttomakeheruncomfortable.
Itipmyheadbackagainandletmyeyesfluttershut.“Wouldn’tsayitwasfineifitwasn’t,Red.”
Ihearshufflingandaquietchuckle.“Yeah,you’dtellmetobeatit.”
Fuck.
She’snottryingtobeforward.Butthewordsbeatitoutofhermouthinthatslightlyhoarsevoicehastheairaroundmefeelingaltogethertoothin.
Fabricraspsandgentlestepsmovetowardthetub.Isqueezemyeyestighter,refusingtogiveintothevoiceinsidemyheadtellingmetopeek.Towatchherclimbovertheedge.Toseewhattypeofbathingsuitshe’swearingandifherskinisascreamyasitlookedfromthatglimpseIcouldseebeyondhershirtyesterday.
Iignoretheflippingsensationinmystomach.
Thegentlesoundofwatersloshingtellsmeshe’scrawlingin.Hotwaterlapsatmychestasshesettles,andsuddenlysharingahottubwiththiswomanwhoIbarelyknowandcan’tstopeye-fuckingfeelsentirelyinappropriate.
Altogethertoopersonal.
“Ah,”shehumsinpleasure.
Igiveinandglanceacrossather.Willa’spositioningmirrorsminealmostperfectly.Herslenderarmsdrapeacrosstheframe,andherfaceistippeduptothenavy-bluesky.Mygazesnagsontheexposedcolumnofherthroat.Theelegantlengthofit.Thewayit’spositioned,openforthetaking.Thewayitmoveswhensheswallows.
“I’msorry,”shemurmurswithoutmovingherheadtoaddressme.
“Forwhat?”Iraspback,alittleconfusedastowhatshe’stalkingabout.“Ialreadytoldyouitwasfineforyoutocomein.”EventhoughI’mnotsosurethat’strue.
Tiny,flimsystrapslayacrosshercollarbonesandwraparoundhershoulders.Soeasilyrippedaway.
“Fordoingthehillbillylettucething.”Sheshakesherhead,andanothermelodiclaughbubblesoutofher,likeshejustcan’tquitebelieveit.“Ican’tbelieveIgotdupedbyafive-year-old.”
Mylipsalmosttugupatthat.Hillbillylettuce.“Well,you’veworkedwithkids.I’msureyouknowhowtohandleit.”I’mmentallypattingmyselfonthebackforcomplimentingher—sortof—whenshedropsabombIdidn’tseecoming.
“Ihaven’tworkedwithkidsatall.”
Igodeathlystillbeforepullingmyarmsdownintothewaterandsittinguptall.“Pardonme?”
Shemusthearthebiteinmyvoicebecauseherheadtipsinmydirectionandhereyesnarrowasshesitsuptoo,thewaterdropletstrailingdownoverherfullchest,rightintothevalleybetweenherbreasts.Igrindmyteethatlettingmyeyesfollowandsnapthembackuptoherswhenshereplieswith,“Watchyourstep,Eaton.”
Swallowing,Istareatherfromtheoppositesideofthetub,facingoff.“Summertoldmeyouhadworkedwithchildren.Shesaidyouhave,andIquote,‘lotsofexperienceworkingwithrowdyboys.’”
IwatchWilla’sexpressiontransformfromirritatedtoincredulous.“Shedidn’t.”
“Shedid.”
“Didsheelaborate?”Willascrubsawethandoverherfaceandslidesituptothetopofherhair,beforehittingthetwistedknotofherfierystrands.“Didyouaskanyfurtherquestions?God.Ishouldhavegivenyouaresumeorsomething.Thisissoawkward,evenbymystandards.Andittakesalottomakemeuncomfortable.”
“So,youhavehowmuchexperienceworkingwithkids?”
Shebarksouthersurprise,strawberrylipspartinginthemosttemptingway.“None.Zero.Zilch.I’mabartender.”
Myfingersclenchintofistsbeneaththewater.“Abartender?”
“Yeah.IguessIdohavelotsofexperiencewithrowdyboys,butnot,yaknow,children.Adultboys?”
“Summerisdead.”
Herlipspresstogetherandwiggleunderthestrainofholdingback.Laughtereruptsfromherinthemostenthrallingway.Ishouldn’tbecharmedbutshe’ssogenuinelyamused.It’shardtonotbeatleastalittlecaptivated.
Herheadtiltsbackandthenotesofherlaughdriftintothesurroundingnight.
“It’snotfunny,”Isay,butIdon’tmeanit,really.Imean…it’skindoffunny.Justnothahafunny.
“Lookslikewebothgottricked.”Herchucklesslow,andthedimlightilluminatesthefullnessofherbreasts,shimmeringwithdampness.
Scrubbingatmyfacewithmyhands,Igroan.“Summerwassosickofmebeingpickythatshetrickedmeintohiringabartender.”
“Listen,ifyouwantaresumeoracriminalrecordcheck,Iwon’tcomplain.ButIstillthinkIcandothis.IstillthinkLukeandIcanhavefunthissummer.Igrewupwithgreatparents,soImusthavelearnedsomethingfromthem.”
“Ohyeah?”Isayfrombehindmyhands,partlytohidemyfrustrationandpartlytogivemyselfabreakfromhowfuckingstunningshelookssittingacrossfrommeinmyhottub.“Whatdoyourparentsdo?Doyoucomefromalonglineofbartenders?”
Whenshe’ssilentfortoolong,Imovemypalmsbackintothewater.Willa’slipiswedgedbetweenherteeth,andshe’seyeingmecritically.
“Catgotyourtongue?”
“No.I’mjustnotconvincedthattheanswerisgoingtomakeyoufeelanybetter.”
Irollmyeyesandhuffoutaharshbreathbeforetippingmyheadbackagain.Thereisdefinitelygoingtobeacriminalrecordcheck.“Tryme.”
“Okay.Mymomisasextherapist.”
Shehastobekiddingme.
“AndmydadistheleadsingerforFullStop.”
Isitupstraight.“Comeagain?”
“Doyouneedtogetyourhearingchecked?Mydadhadtogethearingaidsprettyyoungaftergoingontourandplayingtooloud.”
Mouthy.
“Iheardyou.Ijust…”Ishakemyhead.“Asextherapistandafamousrockstarraisedyouandthissomehowqualifiesyoutotakecareofmykid?”
“Whynot?They’reexceptionalparents.Don’tgetallweirdnow.PeoplealwaysgetweirdwhentheyfindoutFordGrantismydad.”
Iglareather.
“You’renotsomepsychosuperfan,areyou?IhadyoupeggedforaGarthBrookskindoffella.”
Myjawticks.
“Songsaboutyourtruckbreakingdown.Yourdogdying.Yourwomanleavingyouforanotherman.”
Shelaughs,oblivioustothefactthatshejustrippedopenthestitchesofawoundthathasbeenpainfullyslowtoheal.AndnotbecauseImissTalia,justbecausethereareonlysomanyhitsaman’spridecantake.
Itonlytakesacoupleofmomentsforasober,awkwardsilencetostretchbetweenus.I’mnotdoingagreatjobofkeepingthingsfriendly.It’snotmyforte.
I’mnotplayful,I’mresponsible.That’sallI’veeverbeenallowedtobe.That’swhatmyfamilyhasneededmetobe.
Greenirisesglowing,shelooksatmeinthemostunnervingway.“Howfardownmythroatismyfootrightnow?”
“You’reprettymuchdigestingitatthispoint,”Ideadpan.
“Well,shit.It’sgoingtobehardtochaseyourkidaroundallsummerlikethis.”
Ihuffoutagravellybreath,gratefulthatsheisn’tpushingformoreinformationaboutthehotfuckingmessthatismypersonallife.
“Doyouwantmetoleave?Iwouldunderstandifyoudid.”
“No,”slipsoutalittletooquickly,andI’mnotevensurewhy.Ishouldwanthertoleave,butIdon’t.Lukealreadylikesher,she’salreadyhere,andwe’vealreadyhaditout.Plus,she’ssubstantiallylessannoyingthanalmostanyotheroptionavailabletome.“It’sfine.Justgetmeanautographtomakeitup.”
Sheblinksatme.“Wasthatajoke?”
“No.”
Herfootslidesacrossthevinylbottomofthehottubandbrushesagainstmine.“Thatwasajoke.”
“Itwasn’t.”Ibitetheinsideofmycheektokeepfromgrinning.MaybeIshouldbemadderaboutthis.MaybeIshouldsendherhome.Butthethoughtofgoingbackandundoingeverythingthat’salreadybeendonefeelsexhausting.
There’ssomethingfreeinginjust…lettingitgo.
“It’sfine.Iwon’ttellanyoneyoumadeajoke.I’llgetyouanautographandkeepyourreputationasTheWorld’sGrumpiestRanchercompletelyintact.”
“Willa,you’remakingmeregrethiringyou.”
Shepointsatme.“Yes.Exactly.Whatjoke?Nojokeshere.”
She’scarefree.She’sfunny.She’sgotasmartsenseofhumorthatIlikeeventhoughIrefusetoshowit.Andshespendsthenexttwentyminutestellingmestoriesaboutgrowingupasthechildofahouseholdname.ShetalksandIlisten.Andnowandthen,whenoneofusshiftsinthesmallhottub,ourfeetbrush.
It’sinnocentcontact.Oratleastitshouldbe.Wedon’tlookateachotherwhenithappens.I’mafraidtolookathertoocloselyifI’mbeinghonest.
Butitstillsendssparksupmylegs.
Andwhenwegetout,Idothegentlemanlythingandofferherahandsothatshedoesn’tslip.
Butthat’sjustbeforeIdothedistinctlyungentlemanlythingwhereIletmyeyesravagehertightbody.IsoakupeverycurveandtrytoburnitintomymindsothatIneverfeeltheurgetodevourthesightofherlikethisagain.
Iimagineherwearingthosesimpleblackpantiesthatarestillinmykitchendrawer.
MydickswellsfastandhardenoughthatIwrapatowelaroundmyselfanddisappearinsidewithoutsayinggoodnight.
BecauseI’mjustsofuckinggentlemanly.8
Willa
Willa:Ican’tbelieveyoudidn’ttellCadeI’mabartenderandnotsomeprofessionalMaryPoppins.
Summer:Hewasbeinginsaneabouttheentireprocess.You’reperfectforthejob.Lukeisgonnaloveyou.
Willa:OBVIOUSLY.I’mveryloveable.UnlessyournameisCadeEaton.ThenI’mtheobjectofallyourexaggeratedscowling.
Summer:Hehasdifferentscowls.Haven’tyoufiguredthatoutyet?
Willa:That’sinsane.I’mnotpaidenoughtodecipheraman’sscowls.Here’sthenewdeal.Ifyourshittyversionofmatchmakerdoesn’tworkout,you’rethenewnanny.Endofstory.Andyou’regoingtodoitwithasmile.Theyneedhelp.
Summer:Adorable.You’realreadyprotective.
***
Thescreendoorbangsshutloudly,whichmeansCadeishome.CrabbyCadestompinginafteralongdayofdoinggodknowswhatwithabunchofcowsandcowboys.
“Welcomehome,MasterCade,”Iannouncewithaflourishashewalksintothekitchen,shootingmeascowl.Anannoyedscowl?
“Whatareyoudoing?Andwhyareyoucallingmethat?”Cade’svoicerumblesdangerously.
“StirringthespaghettisaucethattheyoungPadawanrequested,Iam.”Askstupidquestions,getstupidanswers.HecanclearlyseethatI’mmovingaspoonaroundinapotfullofBolognesesauce.
HeglowersatmelikeI’mtheleastfunnypersonhe’severmet.“AndI’mtalkinglikethisbecauseit’shardtogetoutofcharacterafterplayingStarWarsallafternoon.”
“You’renotsupposedtocookdinner.”Hisfingersrapagainstthemarblecountertop,buthiseyesstayfixedonthepot.Latelyit’slikehetotallyavoidslookingatme.
“Theforceisjusttoostrongwithmeinculinaryarts.YoungLukehasannouncedthatmycookingissuperiortoyours.”Ismirkathim,gettingfartoomuchenjoymentoutofneedlinghim,especiallysinceIknowhelovestocookandisdamngoodatit.
Themanlymanacrossfrommejustscoffs,finallyliftinghiseyes.“Hedidnot.”
“Hedid.”
Hisarmscrosspetulantly.“Idon’tbelieveyou.”
Ismileprettily.“Okay,DarthCade.”
Atthatmoment,Lukeblastsintothekitchenfromwashingup.“No!IwantdadtobeJarJarBinks!”
Cade’sforeheadwrinklesandheappearsgenuinelyconfused.“WhatthehellisaJarJarBinks?”
LukeandIdissolveintoafitofgiggles.Cadeignoresusandremovesthespoonfrommyhand,dipsitinthepot,beforeliftingittohislipsforasample.Hisonlyreactionisalowgrumble.Whichispracticallyafive-starreviewcomingfromhim.
***
“Whatisallthatlaundrydoingonmybed?”
ItseemslikeeverydayIdosomethinghelpfularoundthehouse,andCadefindsawaytocomplainaboutit,likeI’vegravelyoffendedhim.
Ipopachipintomymouthanddon’tbotherlookingathimfromwhereI’msprawledonthecouch.Ialreadyknowhe’sscowling.IpracticallyseethatexpressiononthebackofmyeyelidseverynightwhenItrytofallasleep.
“Ididacoupleofloadstodayandwasn’tsurewhereitallwent.”
“You’renotsupposedtodomylaundry.”
“Well,you’renotsupposedtointerruptmewatchingGossipGirlreruns.Buthereweare.”
“Idon’tneedyoutodomylaundry.”
Isitupwithadeepsigh.“Okay.We’rereallyfixatingonthat?Itwassometowelsandafewsweaters.Notyourtightboxers.Solet’sjustcoolourjets,yeah?Theywerealreadyinthebasket,andI’mnotlazy,soItossedtheminthewasher.Notabigdeal.Noneedtoputmeondeathrowoverit.”
Hestaresatme,butratherthanscowling,heappearsalittleperplexed.“Noonehaseverdonemylaundryforme.”
“Probablybecauseit’snotworthfacingtheelectricchairover.”
Hejustglaresatme.
“ImagineifIdroppedaredsockinwithyourwhitetowels?Oof.Brutal.Endofdays.”
Moreglaring.
Ipopanotherchipintomymouth.“IsthiswhereyoutrytomeltmewiththepowerofyourmindbecauseIhadthegalltohelpyouwithachore?”
“Anyoneevertoldyouthatyou’rerude?”isallhecomesbackwith.
IgrinathimbeforeturningbacktotheTVandcrankingthevolume.“Saystheguywhostillhasn’tgivenmypantiesback.”
***
“Willa!”IhearCadecallingfrominsidethehouse.ButLukeandIarehidingoutsideonthebackporch,waitingtojumpoutandscarehim.“Whereareyouguys?”
“Luke?”Hisfootstepsmarchthroughthehousewithauthority.ItfeelslikeImightbeintroubleforsomething,butIalwaysfeelthatwaywithCade.“Youhungry,pal?”
Wedon’tmoveaninch.
“Whatthehell,”hemutters,drawingnearernow.Probablyinthekitchen.
Lukeisbehindme,andIpeerdownathim,hispalmclampedacrosshismouthtoholdbacklaughter.Iraiseafingeruptomylips,remindinghimtokeephisshittogetherandstayquiet.
Thefridgedoorcreaksopen.Abottlecaphissesasitpopsopen.IcanimagineCade’sthroatworkingashetakesadeeppullofawhatIassumeisabeer.He’sclosenow.Hemustbestaringoutthescreendoor.
Lukepressesinagainstmyhip,andIabsentlywonderwhatCadeisthinking.
“Thisfuckingwomanisgoingtobethedeathofme.”
Okay.Sothat’swhathe’sthinking.Itakeastrangesortofprideinhisstatement.
Thedoorswingsopen,andhestepsoutontotheporch,whichisrightwhenLukeandIjumpoutfrombehindaplanter.
“Boo!”Ishout,asLukeyells,“Chipmunks!”
Cadefliesback,andIglancedownatLuke,wonderingwhatthehellwouldinspirehimtorandomlyscreamchipmunks.ButIdon’tthinkaboutthatforlong,becausewhenIlookbackupCade’ssternfaceisthecolorofatomatoandhe’swearinghisbeerdownthefrontofhisfreshT-shirt.
Ohyeah.Wegothimgood.
AllIofferisalameattemptatajoke.“WetT-shirtcontest?”
AndallIgetbackisascowl.
***
“Willa,howhasyourfirstweekbeen?”Cade’sdad,Harvey,smilesatmefromacrossthetable.It’smyfirstfamilydinnerattheranch,andI’mdownrightenamored.It’sso…wholesome?
WhenIwalkedintothediningroom,CadepulledachairoutandstaredatmeuntilIfiguredouthemeantmetositthere.AfterIdid,hetuckedmeintothetableandoneofhiscallousedhandsbrushedcasually—mistakenly—overmybareneck.
Butitflusteredmeallthesame.Sentgoosefleshoutovermyarmsallthesame.Thesimplesttouchhastakenupresidenceinmymindfornogoodreason.
IfinishchewingandreturnHarvey’ssmile,butit’sCade’sdarkeyesIfeelonmefrombesidehisdad.Thesimilaritiesbetweenthemareinsane.It’slikeIcanseehowCadewilllookintwentysome-oddyears.
Whichistosay,good.
“It’sbeengreat.LukeandIhavehadalotoffun.Haven’twe,Luke?”Itiltmyheadtogazedownathim.Heinsistedonsittingbesideme,eventhoughhehasn’tseenhisdadsincelastnight.WecameuptothemainhouseearlyandCademetushere.
Thelittleboybeamsupatme.“Suredid.”
Cadescowls.It’swhathedidwhenLukemovedacrossthetable,awayfromhim.
“Themostfun!”
Harvey’skindeyesturnbacktowardhisgrandson.“Whathaveyoubeendoing?”
Lukepeersaroundthetable,grinningateveryone.He’sthekindofkidwhoflourishesunderattentionratherthancrumblesunderit.Andeveryoneishere.BothofCade’sbrothers,RhettandBeau.Summer,ofcourse.Eventhehockeyplayer,JasperGervais,whoeveryonelosestheirmindover—apparently,hegrewuphereontheranch.
I’mjustsnoopyenoughtowishIknewmoreabouthisstory.Wherehisparentsareandhowhegottowhereheis.Thefacthehasn’tsaidadamnwordthroughoutdinnerhasmeevenmorecurious.Hesmilesatpeoplefrombehindthebrimofhisteamcap.Littlesmirksandwinks.Heseemsniceenough.Heseemslikeherequiresmoreinvestigation.
Beau,ontheotherhand,hasbarelystoppedtalking.Exceptfornow.WhenLuketalks,everyonelistens.
“Wethrewlettuceoutthewindowwhiledrivingreallyfastdownthebackroad!”Forakidwhoseemedsuitablychastisedafewdaysago,hesureishammingitupnow.
“Goddamn.Thatsoundslikefun.”Beaushakeshisheadandspearssomelettuce,alookofnostalgiatouchingeveryfeature.
MyeyessnaptoCade’s,whoisscowlingathisbrother.Iabsentlywonderwhichscowlthatis.Irritated?Scolding?
Throughthesaladinhismouth,Beauadds,“I’mgonnadothatwithyouwhenIgetbackfromthisdeployment,Lukey.We’lldowatermelonsinstead.”
“Yes!”Lukeshootsupinhisseat,likehe’sforgottentheconversationwehadearlierthisweek.
“Yousureasshitarenot.”Cadepushesthesaladaroundhisplateevenharder.Hardenoughthatthetinesofhisforkscreechacrosshisplate.Thisguyneedstoworkoutsomegoddamntension.
Mymomwouldsayheneedssomegoodsex.
I’mnotsosureshe’dbewrong.
“LukeandIhavehadsomegoodchatsaboutfoodscarcitythisweek,”Ipipeuptodefusetheconversation.“Thatnoteveryoneisasfortunateasheis.Wedugoutagardenandtodayweplantedourlettuceseeds,didn’twe?”
Henodsenthusiasticallyatme,andI’mrelievedIwasn’tatotalbuzzkill.Fiveisn’ttooyoungtohearsometruthsabouttheworld,butI’mwonderingifIoverstepped.
WhenIpeekoveratCade,though,hisscowlislessirritated.Possiblyanappreciativescowl?
Imean,fuckmylife.HowdidIgettothepointwhereI’manalyzingthewayamanscowlsatme?
Beauchuckles.“Well,youknow.Boyswillbeb—”
“No,”Icuthimoff.Becausethatsayingisstraighttrash,andyearsofbartendinghavegivenmeplentyoftimetoseeboysbeingboys.Whichreallyisjustboysbeingshitheads.“Boyswillbegentlemen.”IpointmyforkatthebigarmyKendollsittingacrossfromme.
It’sthenthatIhearahuffofairintheotherwisedeadsilentdiningroom,andIalmostdropmyforkwhenIfigureoutitcamefromtheleastlikelyperson.
Cadeisstillmovingfoodaroundonhisplate—likebarbecueribsrequireaforkorsomething—butthecornerofhismouthslantsupward.Theangleofhisfaceandthedarknessofhisbeardmakeithardtosee,soIsquintatad,juttingmychinathimtogetacloserlook.I’mnotsureIcancallitasmile.
Anamusedscowl?
Thehockeyplayerclearshisthroat,nothidinghisamusementatall.“Well,Harvey,whathaveyoubeenuptothisweek?”
Hechucklesandwipesaweatheredhandacrosshismustache.“Thanksforasking,son…”
IfindmyselfglancingbetweenhimandCade,wonderinghowCademightlookwithamustache.Ajokeaboutfreemustacheridespopsintomyhead,andIblinkrapidlytoclearit.
IglancearoundthetabletoseeifanyonenoticedIwasthinkingaboutridingCade’sface.Thankfully,thatwouldbeimpossible,andeveryonehasfixedtheirattentionontheheadofthefamily,who’srunningdownwhathe’sbeenuptothisweekwhileI’vebeenthinkingabouthowCade’sbeardandtonguewould
ThenIfeelit.Thescowl.Myeyesshift,andCadeisstaringrightatme,bulgingarmscrossedoverhisimpossiblybroadchest.BicepsstrainingagainsthissignatureblackT-shirt.AndmycheeksheatfornogoodreasonotherthanmybodyisatraitorandI’mprobablyovulating.
Istarebackathimacrossthetable,refusingtolookguilty.Tryingtostretchmyconsciousnessbacktowhateverthesweetpatriarchofthefamilyistalkingabout.
“…TodayIgottotidyinguparoundthepropertyabit.Therewereleaveseverywhere,soIgavetheyardagoodblowjob.”
Cade’seyeswiden.Comicallywide.Playfullywide.AndIcan’thelpthehystericallittlegigglethatbubblesupoutofme.Islapahandovermymouthtocoverit.
Rhettchokesonapieceofhisfood,andSummerslapshisbackandcoosathimlikehe’sababychokingonapplesaucewhiletryingtosuppresshergiggles.
“I’msorry,Dad,”Beausayswithaplayfulglintinhiseye.“You’regonnahavetoexplainthatonetousagain.”
Harveyshakeshisheadandrollshiseyes.“Younotwearingearprotectionattheshootingrange?Isaidtheyardwasamess.Nexttimeyoucanmakeyourselfusefulandblowityourself,Beau.”
Mygod.IsHarveyEatonashelteredsimpletonoracomedicgenius?He’sgottheentiretablestunnedspeechless,strugglingtoholdintheirlaughter,andhe’sjustmunchingawayatthefoodonhisplate,lookingoblivious.
“Doyouhaveaspecialtechniqueheshouldknowaboutbeforehegivesitago?”Idon’thaveacluehowJasperiskeepingastraightfaceafterdeliveringalinelikethat.IsthissomethingtheyteachyouintheNHL?BecauseI’dliketohavethattraining.
“Excusemeforamoment,”Cadebitesoutinastrainedvoicebeforepushingawayfromthetableandheadingtowardthefrontofthehouse.Ican’tmakeouthisfacialexpression.Notevenalittlebit.Ishesick?Ishepissedthatthisconversationisgoingoninfrontofhiskid?AmIfiredfornotinstantlygivingLukeearmuffs?
“Hey,Luke,”Isay,myvoicestrangled,“whydon’tyoutelleveryoneaboutourguitarlessonsthisweek?I’mgoingtogocheckonyourdad.”
Ismileaspolitelyaspossible,refusingtoglanceatSummer.BecauseifImeetmybestfriend’seye,I’mgoingtogetthegiggles.
Uncontrollablegiggles.Totallyimpolite.
Icanseeherfrommyperiphery,craninghernecktocatchmyeye,butIjusttosstheclothnapkinonthetablebesidemyplatebeforefollowingthesametrackasCade.
Iwalkthroughtotheothersideofthehouse,admittedlynotreallyknowingwhereI’mgoing.WhereCade’shouseisbrightandairywithacottage-typevibe,themainhousealmostfeelslikesomesortofhuntinglodge—widefloorboards,darkwoodbeamsbeneathvaultedceilings,brasshardware,anddarkgreenwalls.Ipeekdownahallwayandseenothing,soIcontinuetowardthefrontdoor,seeingthatit’sproppedopen.
There’salong,widedeckwithrawlogbanistersthatfaceoutoverthelongdrivewayandafullcopseofpoplars.
Cadeisstandingthere,Wranglershugginghisstronglegs,themusclesinhisbackbunchedbeneathsoftcotton.Hisclose-cutblackhairisslickedbackneatly,andhistrimmedbeardgivestheimpressionhemadeanefforttonight.I’vegrownaccustomedtoseeinghimwaltzinafterahardday’sworklookingalldirtyandsweatyand,well,fuckinghot,tobehonest.
Istandforamomentandwatchhim,tryingtodecidewhichlookIprefer.
Hiswidepalmsareproppedontherailingandhischinistuckedintohischest.
AsIapproach,hisscentsneaksuponme.Crushedpineneedlesandsunshine.Idon’tknowhowelsetoexplainit.It’sthatwarmearththatIassociatewithdigginginthegardenonasunnyday.There’snothingmanufacturedorstore-boughtabouthisscent—it’spureoutdoormasculinity.
Butit’stheshakingofhisshouldersthatdrawsmygazenow.
He’scryingorlaughing,andtobehonest,bothseemequallyunlikelyfromwhatIknowofthisman.
“Wantedtocomeseewhatawell-blownyardlookslike,huh?”Iask.
“Willa—”Hecanbarelygetmynameout.It’sabreath.It’sawheeze.
Ismileandleanagainstthepostseveralfeetawayfromhimbeforeturningmygazeontheyard.“Itdoeslookgreatouthere.Yourdadcouldsuckthechromeoffofa—”Withonehandhelduptostopme,hisheaddropslowerandhisshouldersshakeharder.“Iwonderifhe’ssore.Hereallyputhisbackintoit.”IsnortasIsayit.Honestly,I’mbarelyholdingittogether.Iamachild.
Cadegaspsandstandsupstraight,turninghisattentiontome.Therearetearsinhiseyes,andI’msurehe’ssmiling—hehastobe—buthehasafistheldupoverhismouth.
Heseemsyoungerwhenhe’slaughing.Lightersomehow.Itmakesmelaughtoo,andbeforeIknowit,we’rebothstandingthere,regardingtheclean,violatedyard,havingachuckletogether.
Andforonce,CadeEatonisn’tscowlingatme.
“Man,mydadissuchanasshole,makingajokelikethat.It’sjusttowatchusallgetuncomfortabletoo.AndthenJasperhastogofromsayingshit-alltodeliveringthekillingblowwithoutevenbreakingasweat.”
Ismileandmarvelatthemanbesideme.I’veseenhimeverydayforaweekandnotoncehashelookedevenclosetothishappy.
“Eaton.Yougrumpymotherfucker.Youjustlaughed,”Iblurt.
“Yeah,Red.Idid.”
Heturnstomeandoffersthemostdevastatingsmile.Onethatmakesmystomachflipandmylipspopopeninshock.
It’slikeIjustputglassesonforthefirsttimeandamseeinghiminacompletelydifferentlight.
AndIcan’tlookaway.9
Cade
IholdthedooropenandusherWillabackintothehouse.Sheflashesalookoverhershoulderasshewalksthroughthefronthall.Onethat’sallsmugandsatisfied.Onethatsaysshethinksshe’sinonsomesortofsecret.
Andmaybesheis.ThesecretisthateventhoughItrytoactlikethetough,maturebigbrotheranddad,I’mdyinginsideoverblowjobjokes.
I’vejustbeenspendingalltheseyearsfakingthatI’multra-responsible,hopingthatIcanfakemyselfintobelievingit.MostdaysIdo,butmomentsliketonightIwonderwhatI’velostintheprocess.
IwonderifI’mstillapplyingwhatresponsibilitylookedliketomeasachildtothelifeofafull-grownman.Becausethat’swhatIwaswhenIsteppedupinthewakeofourmother’sdeath—achild.
Maybethat’swhyIallowmyselftoeye-fuckthehelloutofWillaGrantaswewalkbacktothediningroom.Herround,appleass,theconfidentswayofherhips,thespotwhereherwaistnipsin—thethoughtofholdingherthere.
Thefeelingoffollowingherbringsoutsomethingprimalinme.
Like,underdifferentcircumstances,I’dchaseher.I’dtakeher.Andtherewouldn’tbeanyblowbackbecauseshewouldn’tbeLuke’snanny.AndthefactthatI’mthismucholderthanherwouldn’tmatterbecauseIwouldn’tgiveafuck.
“Wow,Harvey,”Willaannouncesaswewalkintothediningroom.“Itlooksfabulousoutthere.Youblewthehellouttathatlawn.”
Iscrubahandovermyfaceasthetableeruptsintogiggles.HarveyincludedBunchofchildren
Mydadisgrinningsowide,hiseyestwinklingatthegorgeousredheadcurrentlypullingoutherchairnexttomyson,who’speeringaroundtheroom,genuinelyconfusedbywhatwe’realllosingitover.
IshoveawayasparkofjealousyoverthewaymydadandWillaaresmilingateachother.Becausethatisinsane
Shewasjustsoexcitedovermelaughing.Overmesmiling.Shesmiledback.Itfeltgood.Andnowshe’sinheregivingthatmegawattgrintootherpeople,whoaregrinningbackather.AndIfeellikeIwantallhersmilesformyself.
Howhardwoulditbetosmilemore,tolaughmore,ifitmadeherlookthishappy?
“We’regoingout.”Beaupointsatme,usingthatmilitaryvoicethathedgesnodebate.Oratleasthethinksitdoes.“Dad’stakingLukeforthenight.IwantsomefunbeforeIdeployagain.”
Ifrown.“No.”Thislittlefuckerhasneverbeenabletotellmewhattodo,andI’mnotabouttolethimstartnow.
“Yes.”Histhickbrowarchesatme.
I’mabouttofightback,butWillaturningherstrawberrylipsupatmestopsmeinmytracks.“Comeon.Itwillbegoodforyou.”
MybrowsknittogetherasIstaredownather.
Thenanny.
Thenanny.Thenanny.Thenanny.
Thenannyshouldn’tlookthisfuckinggoodtome.Thenannyshouldn’tknowortellmewhat’sgoodforme.
AndIshouldn’tlisten.
ButI’manidiot,soIrespondwith,“Fine.”
Lukecheersandrunsover,flyingintohisgrandfather’slap.Probablybecauseheknowsthey’lleatfoodthatrotstheirteethandstayuptoolatewatchingmoviesthatI’dneverapproveof.
ThesmallsmileonWilla’sangelicfacecatchesmyeye,andwithouteventhinking,Igiveherasmalloneback.
***
WewalkintoTheRailspur,thebestbarintown.ItusedtobetheonlybarintownbeforeChestnutSpringsstartedgrowingwithcityfolkmovingoutthiswaytolivethecountrylifestyleorsomecheesyshitlikethat.
AndI’mprettysureHonkyTonkSundaysaredesignedjustforthem.It’sthenightwhentheyallplaycowboydress-upandlinedanceortwo-step,andjustgenerallypretendtheyaren’thigh-rollingcityslickers.
IfIweren’tsoannoyedbyit,I’dfinditfunny.
Itfeelslikeeveryoneinourgroupisalocalcelebrityofsomesort.Rhetttheretiredrodeoking,Beauthemilitaryhero,andJasperthehockeysensation—eventhoughheavoidsattentionliketheplague.
I’mjustthebrotherwhorunstheranch,theonewhosewomanlefthimwithachildandmoreresponsibilitythathereasonablyknowswhattodowith.
It’sthenudgeofWilla’sshoulderagainstminethatkeepsmefromdivingintoahugewellofself-pity.“Thisplaceissocool.”
Ithoughtshe’dtakeoffwithSummer.Thetwoofthemhadaseriouscaseofthegigglesinthebackofmytruckonthewayoverhere.I’mprettysureIheardSummersaysomethingaboutpeeingalittle,andthat’swhenItunedthemout
“Yeah,Iguess.”Isurveythebaraswemakeourwaytowardourfavoritespotattheback.Theonewithbiggreenleathercouchesandaroaringfireplace.
Whatdopeoplecallthis?Cowboychic?Thattermhasalwaysamusedme.Cowboyinghasneverseemedallthatchictome.
Theplaceiswarm,alldarkwoodsandfireplaces,ornatechandeliers.It’schangedalotsincethedayswhenI’dcomeheremoreregularly.NowIonlyevercomewhenmybrothersdragmeout.
“Doyoucomeoften?”Willaasks.
“What?”Mybraintakesthatquestioninadifferent,sex-starveddirection.
Herlipsrolltogether,notmissingagoddamnbeat.“Tothisbar?Doyoucomehereoften?God,Idon’tknowifthat’sreallyanyclearer.Imeancomelikec-o—”
Iclosemyeyesandsayasilentprayerforpatienceandaflacciddick,holdingupahand.“Iknowwhatyoumeanandtheanswerisno.”
WhenIopenmyeyesagain,she’ssmirking.Wecometostandinfrontofthecouches.Everyonefilesinandshewatchesthemcarefully,eyesassessingwhereeveryonesits.AsalwaysJaspertakesthebackcornerseatfacingawayfromtherestoftheroomandBeautakesuppositionacrossfromhim—alwaysfacingtheroom.
Willadoesn’tevenglanceatmewhenshemurmurs,“Youdon’tcomeoften?”
“Nothere,”Ibiteout.
Shepeeksatmefrombehindasilkycurtainofhercopperlocks.“Yeah,no.Thatwouldberude.”
Iopttoglarebackather.Becausemywishforaflacciddickisnotbeinggrantedwiththislineofbanter.Orareweflirting?Idon’tevenknowwhatflirtinglookslikeanymore.“Willa,sitdown.”
Ipointattheonlyspotsleft.Aloveseatfacingtheendofthelow-slungtable.Shemoveseffortlessly,withaninherentgrace.There’ssomethingkindof…magicalabouther.Herlaugh,hervoice,thefluidityofhermovements.It’snotsexual,it’sjustanappealIcan’tquiteputmyfingeron.
AnappealI’mnowgoingtobestucksittingbesideallnight.Andlivingwithallsummer.Iabsentlywonderifputtingupwithoneoftheotherapplicantswhodidn’tcatchmyeyeatallwouldhavebeenpreferable,evenifitmeantputtingupwiththeirovertadvancesforacoupleofmonths.
Ourserver,Bailey,swingsbyoncewe’reseated.Thegirlworksherassoffhereandatthehospitalasaporter.It’slikeeveryounceoffocusanddrivethatcouldbesharedbyherfamilywasalljustpackedintoher.TheJansensownthefarmnexttous,andshe’stheyoungestofthem.Thebestofthem.Theonlyonewithoutacriminalrecord,mostlikely.
“I’llhaveaGuinness,”Willasays,surprisingmebyorderingathick,darkbeer.AndmaybeI’madickforexpectingsomethingelse.Ihadherpeggedasaprissycitygirlwho’dordersomefrillySexandtheCitydrink.
“I’llhavewhatshe’shaving.”IhikeathumbatWillaandgiveBaileyatersesmile.Baileyblushesanddropsmygaze.I’mnotsurehowthehellsheworkshere.She’syoungandpainfullyshy.
Willaelbowsme,beforeleaningcloseandwhisperinginmyear.“Shegetssmiles.Youshouldgoforit.She’scute.”
IglanceatBailey’sretreatingformandshakemyhead.“Nah.Noway.Bailey’swaytooyoung.Ijustlikeher.”
Willa’seyetwitches,herlipsflatteningasshelooksaroundthebar.Sheseemslikeshe’sallbravadoandbluster,butIgetthesenseIjusthurtherfeelings.NotsomuchbywhatIsaid,butbywhatIdidn’tsay.
Ibumpmyelbowbackather.“Ilikeyoutoo,Red.IjustfeelbadforBailey.Herfamilyisshitbutshe’sasweetgirl.Shegetsabadraparoundtown.”
Sherollshereyeswhilestaringoutacrosstheroom.“Youdon’tlikeme.Youtolerateme.”
Imullthatover.IsthathowIcomeofftoher?Iguessshehasnowayofknowingit’sastruggleformetokeepmyeyesoffherwhensheinteractswithLuke,evenhardertokeepherimagefrompoppingupinmymindwhenIfistmycockintheshower.BoththingsIdon’tintendtotellher,soIoptfor,“ThewayIseeit,Ilikeyoualittlemoreeveryday.”
Becausethatmuchistrue.Thegirlisgrowingonme,likeavinewrappinguparoundanoldoak.Andforonce,I’mnotsureImind.
Willa’sheadturnsslowly,withintent,andhereyesscourmyface.IfeellikeI’mbeinganalyzed,decoded—it’sfuckingunnerving.
“Youtryingtoputaspellonme,Red?Somesortofcity-girlvoodooshit?”
“Citygirlvoodooshit?”Shesmiles,stillstaringatmehard.Amused.Glowing.She’sgoddamnbreathtaking.Therestofthebarfadesaway,andwithalittleshakeofmyhead,Igiveherareluctantsmileanddrophergaze.
Shelaughsandflopsbackagainstthecouch,watchingBaileyapproachwithatrayfullofdrinks.“DaddyCade,you’reawholelotprettierwhenyousmile.”
Ican’thelpbutsnort.“You’reinsane.”Usuallyawoman’sattentionmakesmesquirm.It’stoointense.There’stoomuchpressure.ButwithRed,shetoesthelineofjoking.Truthfully,Ican’tmakeheadsortailsofher.Ifnothingelse,shehasmyattention.
Shegrinsupatme,gentlytuggingatherlong,straighthair.Likethat’sananswer.
I’dliketotugonthathairtoo,iswhatI’mthinkingwhenIfeelahandclampdownonmyshoulder.“Cade,buddy,howareya?”
Thesmilecomeseasilynow.Myhighschoolfriend,LanceHenderson,istoweringoverme,grinninglikethefuckingloonheis.
Istand,reachingouttoshakehishandinafirmclapwhileslappingathisshoulder.It’sourkindofequivalentofahug.“I’mdoin’alright.Howaboutyou?Whatbringsyououtthisway?”
“Rodeonearby.ThoughtI’dtakeadetourthroughtheoldstompinggrounds.”
“Yeah?”
“Heckyeah.”Henodsatthetable.“Lookatyouall.TheentireEatonclan.Whatisthis?Somesortoffamilyreunion?”
“Nah,that’snextmonth.”
Hiseyesdrop,andIcatchhimeyeingupWilla,whoispretendingtopayattentiontoeveryoneelseintheloudbar,butIcantellbytheangleofherheadthatshe’seavesdropping.Snoopylittlething.
WhenIglancebackatLance,it’salmostimpossibletomisstheappreciativewayhe’slookingather.
Anditfuckingbugsme.
Itakeastepover,blockingWillawithmybody.“Thisisn’tthegrocerystore,Henderson.Whatchyalookingfor?”
Hisheadtipsbackandhebarksoutalaugh.“Thatyourgirl,Eaton?”
Iscowlbackathim.“No.She’smynanny.”
Hearchesabrowatmefrombeneathhistancowboyhat.“Yournanny?”
IsighlikeI’mexasperatedwithhim,butnochanceamIbackingdownonthis.“Youheardme,dickhead.Howlongyouintownfor?”
Hiseyesaretwinkling,buthedoesn’tpushtheWillathinganyfarther,andIdropmyshoulders,tensioneasingout.
Pathetic.
“Justonenight.Wasactuallyhopingtogetintouchwithyou.Couldn’tfindyaonsocialmedia.”
“WhywouldIneedsocialmedia?”Ideadpan.
“Idon’tknow.Tostayintouchwithfriendslikeme?”
“Onceeveryfiveorsoyearsinpersonisperfectforme.Toomuchofagoodthingandallthat.”IlikeLancebutmesharingphotoswithhimandheartinghisstatusupdates—never.
“Ineedapartner.Myguyisoutwithabrokencollarbone.We’reclosetoqualifyingforthenationalfinals.”
“No.”
“Whynot?You’reoneofthebestpennersI’veeverseen.It’sashameyounevercontinued.”
Peopledon’tgetit.Travelingaroundrodeoingwasneveranoptionforme.Nooneeveraskedmeifthat’swhatI’dliketodo.BecauseIwouldhavelovedtodoit.Iamagoodfuckingcowboy.Butdutycalled,andthatdutywashereathome.Theranch.Luke.Family.
IwasnevergrantedtheprivilegeofdoingwhateverIwanted,andbeingremindedofitsmarts.
“Iropeandpenallthetime.Forwork.Notshow.”
“Good,thenyou’renotoutofpractice.”
“Lance,itain’tgonnahappen.”Icrossmyarmsovermychest,hearingthebuzzofconversationbehindme,butIcanfeelWillashiftclosertowardthemidlineofthecouch.
“Whynot?”
“BecauseI’vegottheranch.I’vegotakid.Ican’tjusttakeofffordaysatatime.Ican’thangatyourplaceandpractice.Ihaveresponsibilities.”
“Whataboutthenanny?Wecanwingitwithoutpractice,orIcantrailerin.”Hiseyesdrop,andmychestpuffsasIshifttoblockhisgaze.
“Shegetstheweekendsoff.”
“Wecanfiguresometh—”
“Idon’tmindworkingacoupleofweekends.”Willa’sbodypressesbesidemineasmyheadsnapsinherdirection.
“No,”Igritout.
Sheshrugs.“Calmyourtits,Eaton.I’mjustoffering.”
Lancelaughsandsmilesather,allcowboycharm.It’sfuckingannoying.It’sevenworsewatchinghimshakeWilla’shand.Hersmilingbackathim.They’rebothsunnyandhappy.TheysuiteachotherwellandIhateitbugsme.
“LanceHenderson.”
“WillaGrant.Pleasuretomeetyou.”
HissmiletransformsintoasmirkIrecognizewellfromwatchinghimpickupbucklebunnieswhenwewereyounger.“Ohdarling,thepleasureisallmine.”
IlikeLance.He’sagoodguy,andhe’scharmingasallgetout,butIdon’tlikehimcharmingmynanny.
WhichiswhyIsaysomethingIneverthoughtI’dhearmyselfsay.“WillaandIwerejustabouttodance.Butit’sbeenniceseeingyou,Lance.”IgivehimatipofmychinandgrabWillabytheelbowbeforedraggingheroutontothedancefloor.
“IthinkImissedthepartwherewewerejustabouttodance?”sheteasesasIpullherintoatwo-stepposition,tryingtojustplantmyhandatherwaistratherthanslidingitoverherribsthewayIwantto.
“Itwasanexcusetogetawayfromthatsmileymotherfucker.”
Shecasuallydrapesahandovermyshoulderasmyfingerswraparoundherdaintyhandandweeasilyfallintosteptotheupbeat,twangysong.Imakeapointofstaringoverhershoulderratherthanather.
It’shard
She’sgotsomeprettypinkdresson.It’ssimple,butithugshercurves,skimsherknees,andisaltogethertoolowcut.Thewayshe’spaireditwithapairofwhiteChuckTaylorsmakesherlooktoofuckingyoung.
WhereSummerisallpencilskirtsandhighheels,Willaisbrightcolorsandsneakers.
“So…”Ipeekatherandnoticethewayshe’swatchingotherpeopleonthedancefloor.Peoplewhoaredefinitelywatchingus.BecausegrumpyCadeEatonneverdances.WhenIcomehere,Inurseabeerandglareatanywomanwhocomesmyway.
It’sworkedwellformesofar.ButWillaGrantisshakingmyshitup.
“Youcomehereoften?”sheasks.
“Willa.”Myteethclench.
“IfImakeablowjobjoke,willyoulaughagain?”
Myteethgrind.“No.”
“What’sthebestthingaboutablowjob?”
“Goodlord,woman.Juststop.”Iturnmychindownatherandtrytogivehermymostintimidatingexpression.Justhearinghersaythewordsblowjobistoomuchforaguywhohasn’tgottenoneinyears.
But,asusual,Willaisn’ttheleastbitdeterred.
Herfingerspulseinmine,andshedoesthatlight,sparklylaughthatmakesmydicktwitch.“No,wait.You’regoingtolovethisone.It’ssoyou.”
Sheleansintomyear,andherbreathfansacrossmyneckasshehuffsoutasmallsnortbeforecomposingherselfenoughtofinishthejoke.Ibitetheinsideofmycheektocontainwhateverexpressionmightpopuponmyface.“Thetenminutesofsilence.”
Ihavetolookawayacrosstheroom.Icanfeelherbodyshaking,laughingatherownjoke.
Noshame.
“Igotyou.Isawthat.Areyourcheeksbleeding,Eaton?Doesithurttoholdinyourlaughterlikethat?Ihearitcangiveyouerectiledysfunction.”
“Youkissyourmotherwiththatmouth,Red?”
Sheblowsaraspberry,highlyamused.“Ohyeah.She’dlovethatjoke.”
“Thejoke’sonyouthough.Iwouldn’tlasttenminutesandjustbecauseyou’dbequietdoesn’tmeanIwouldbe.”
Webothgostill,andIwatchhereyeswidenwhileIbeatmyselfupinternallyforlettingasnippetofmyoldselftumbleout,wokenupbythebeautifulredheadinmyarms.
“Whosaidanythingaboutmeandyou,Cade?”Sheblinks,herthicklashesmakingherappearalotmoreinnocentthanI’mthinkingsheis.
Young?Yes.
Shy?No.
It’sadangerouscombinationforamanlikeme.
Thesongchanges,andbeforeIcanreply,someguywhoworksatthebankcutsinandasksifhecanhavethenextdance.
Inodandstepawaygraciously,eventhoughitkillsme.Thethoughtoflettingsomeoneelsedancewithhermakesmeseered,butIalsoneedtogetthefuckawayfromwhereverthatconversationwasheading.10Cade
Beau:Dude.Youlooklikeyou’retryingtokillsomeonewiththepowerofyourstare.
Beau:DoyouhaveaspecialsuperpowerIdon’tknowabout?
Cade:Whyareyoutextingmefromthesametable?
Beau:Becauseyou’retooterrifyingtotalkto.
Cade:Ihopeournation’senemiesdon’tfindoutwhatapussyyouare.
Beau:That’srude.IthinkI’llgodancewiththenanny.Sheseemsnice.
Beau:Yikes.Isthatfacespecialforme?Wannagooutsideandblowoffsomesteamlikewhenwewerekids?
Cade:No.Youactlikeachucklehead,butyouknowhowtokillpeoplewithyourbarehands.I’mnotdumbenoughtofightyou.
Cade:Stopgrinningatmelikethat.It’sweird.
***
Ispendthenexttenminuteshatingmyselfforwalkingaway.Approximatelyfoursongsfitintoaten-minutewindow,andwatchingWilladancewithfourdifferentmenisfourmentoomany.
Tenminutestoolong.
She’sallsmilesandswagger.Iwatchedherlipsmovealmosttheentiretime.Thebottomoneisalittlefullerthanthetop.Ifshewasn’tsmilingallthetime,itwouldgiveherapoutysortoflook.ButthereisnothingpoutyaboutWillaGrant.
She’sasparkinthedark.Dancingflamesagainstamidnightsky.Sheshinesbrighterthanalmostanyoneinthisentireplacewithherglossyhair,brightdress,andtwinklinggreeneyes.
Andshe’sthefuckingnanny,whichmeansIshouldn’tbecountingsongsandminuteslikesomesortofpossessivepsycho,whenallI’vebeentoherforoveraweekisagrumpyasshole.
Doesn’tstopmefrombreathingasighofreliefwhensheshakeshandswithwhateverassholejuststoletwoandahalfminutesofherlifeandwavesgoodnighttohim.
Whenshegetsbacktoourtable,Icanseetherosyblushonhercheeks,alittleperspirationshimmeringathertemples,awaywardstrandofcopperhairstickingtoherglossedbottomlip.
Summersayssomethingtoher,butit’shardtohearovertheblaringmusicandconstantchatter.Herlaughterdrawsmygazerightassheplunksdownbesidemewithoutsparingmeaglance.
Shesitscloserthistimethough.Teasingthatcenterlineofthecouch.I’mremindedofthatnightIfollowedhertoherroomandstareddownatthelineonthefloor.
LinesIshouldn’tcross.LinesIshouldn’tevenbespendingthislongstaringat.
Shereachesforwardforherbeer,andasshedoes,sheplacesapalmonmythightocatchherbalance,andallthoselinesblurinmymind.BecauseallIcanseeishowpetiteherhandisonmyleg.AndallIcanfeelistheroilofheatseepingintomymuscles.Theslowswellinmypants.
SuddenlyI’mnotmeasuringtime.I’mmeasuringinches,becauseherhandismereinchesawayfromfeelingjusthowmuchIdon’tdislikeher.Notevenonebit.
ThenherhandisgoneandI’mstuckstaringatherlips.Thewayherthroatworksasshetakesadeepswallowofbeer.
Withasigh,sheleansback,appraisingthebarbeforeher,andannounces,“Thisplaceisfun.”
Iclearmythroat,graspingforsomethingtotalkabout.“Isthislikethebaryouworkat?”
Shesmilessoeasily.Itjustrollsoffherlikeshedoesn’teventhinkaboutit.It’sincredible.“No.Notatall.Iactuallymanagemybrother’sbusiness.It’sthisoldtheaterthatheturnedintoalivemusicvenuedowntown.Clearedouttheseats.Springloadedthedancefloor.Andwebookinallsortsofawesomebands.Ifthere’snoshow,it’sjustaregularbar—aquietnightfortheregulars.”
IcanonehundredpercentseeWillainasettinglikethat.“Andwhyaren’tyouworkingtherenow?”
Sherollshereyes.“Brotherblewup.Hestartedarecordlabelandpickedsomegoodnobodies.Turnedthemintosomebodies.Sohedecidedtorenovatethevenueeventhoughhe’sneverthereanymore.”
“Thatdoesn’tmeanhegetstostoppayingyou.”
Shewavesahandandtakesanothersip.“Oh,nah.Hedidn’t.I’dpullhispretty-boyhairifhedid.Butthatplaceisalsobasicallymysociallife.Truthfully,Iwaslonelyinthecity.It’snicetobearoundpeople—yourfamily.”
It’sfascinatingtome,listeningtosomeonesouninhibitedtalk.Someonewhosayswhat’sonhermindwithoutconcern,wholaughssofreely.
It’saddictivehavingherattentiononme.IwonderifLukefeelslikethistoo?
“Yeah.They’realright.”Ilookoveratmybrothers,watchingBeauandRhettandJasperjoketogether,liketheyhavesincetheywereteenagers.I’malwayssadwhenBeauleavesontour,eventhoughIdon’ttellhim.Healwayssaysitwillbehismission—thathe’llleavethemilitarywhenhehe’sback.
Andthenhegoesagain.
Ithinkthat’shisaddiction.
“I’mclosewithmyfamily,”Willasays.“Closerthanlotsofpeople.ButweallliveparallellivesnowthatmybrotherandIareadults,whereasyouguysareallupineachother’sbusiness.It’scharming.IcanseewhySummerlovesitouthere.”
“Yeah.Shefitsin.That’sforsure.”Webothglanceover.SummerisinRhett’slap,andeveryoneislisteningtoBeautellastory,hishandsmovinganimatedlyashedoes.EveryoneexceptJasper,whototheaverageonlookermightseemlikehe’slistening,butIknowbetter.
He’sslippedintothepast.Eyesandheadsomewhereelseentirely.Sometimeshestilllookslikethedevastatedlittleboywetookin.IwonderifherelivesthatdayasoftenasIreliveourmother’sdeath?
MyheadsteersinLuke’sdirection,andIwonderwhathe’sdoing.Ifhe’shappy.Ifhe’swarm.Iknowhe’swithmydad,buttheanxietyaroundkeepinghimsafeisrealforme.IoftenponderwhetherheworriesI’llabandonhimlikehismomdid.
IworryI’llleavehimthewayourmomleftus.Suddenly.Tragically.
NowIdon’tfeellikebeingoutatall.Iwanttobehome,withhimtuckedinsafelyintheroomnexttomeor—asstilloftenhappensonweekends—inthesamebedasme.Becauseforallhiswildness,Lukeisacuddler.Softheartedbeneathitall.
“IthinkI’mgonnaheadout,”IsaytoWilla.“Youokaytocatcharidewiththeothers?”
Shestartsatmychangeofsubject,butshealsodoesn’tmissabeatandslidesherpintglassontothetable,thistimetouchingmykneeasshedoes.“Nah.I’drathergowithyou.”
Iknowshedoesn’tmeanitthewayI’mthinking.Thatshe’dliterallyratherspendtimewithmethanoutwitheveryoneelse.
Butit’skindofnicetodreamaboutallthesame.
***
Theridebacktotheranchisquiet.Willawatchesoutthewindowlikethedark,flatfieldsaresuperinteresting.Shewentfromboisterousandsocialatthebartosilentandintrospectiveassoonaswegotinthetruck.
IwishIhadtheballstoaskherwhatshe’sthinking.ButIdon’t.
I’mworriedshe’llbringupwhatIsaidtoheronthedancefloor.I’mworriedshe’llaskmeaboutusagain.I’mworriedmyattractiontoherisbecomingalltooobvious.AndIdon’twanttobecomethecreepydadhittingonthebabysitter.
Eventhoughshe’stwenty-fiveandclearlyisn’tdoingthisbecausesheneedsthemoney.
“Hey…”Isay,examiningthedarkroadinfrontofmeharderthanisnecessary.
Herheadquirksinmydirection,andinthetruck’sdarkcab,she’sallcreamyskinandsofthair.
“DoyoumindifwecheckinatthemainhouseandmakesureeverythingisokaywithLuke?”
Idon’twanttosoundlikesomeinsanehelicopterparent.Itrysohardnottobe,eventhoughI’mfreakingoutinternallyninetypercentofthetime,hopingI’mdoingthiswholeparentingthingright,oftenwishingIhadsomeonetodoitwith,toexplainmyfearsandfailingsto.Instead,Ijustclosemyeyesandholdonfordearlife.SayaprayerthatIcankeephimaliveintoadulthood.
Herfeaturessoften,notastitchofjudgmentonherface.“Yeah.Ofcourse.”
“Sorry.Iknowit’syourweekendnow.You’reprobablysickofdealingwithhim.”
Shechucklesandtoesoffhershoesbeforeputtingonebarefootonthedash.Myeyesleavetheroadforamoment,notingthepinkpolishonhertoesandthedelicateboneinherankle.“Actually,no.IhavefunhangingoutwithLuke.Kindamissedthelittlefellatonight.”
“Yeah?You’dratherplayDinosaurRanchthangooutwithfriendsfordrinks?”
Sheshrugs,lookingoutthewindowagain.“Yeah.Imean,I’vebeenworkinginabarsinceIturnedeighteen.Theallureisn’twhatitoncewas.IfeellikeI’mreadyforsomethingnew.I’mjustnotsurewhat.”
“Didyougotocollege?”
Sheturns,offeringasaucywink.“Justtheschooloflife.”
Isnort.“Same.Butyouseemlikethepost-secondarytype.Smart.Wealthy.Well-connected.”
Herheadquirksassheassessesme.“That’sfunny,inlike,averyjudgmentalsortofway.ButI’veneverreallyenjoyedschool.I’msureifI’dappliedmyself,Icouldhavedonebetter.ButIwasalwaysmoreinterestedinridingmyhorse.Orbeingontheroadwithmyparents.Orlearningtomanageabarwithmyolderbrother.SchoolisalwaysthereifIwanttogoback.ButI’mafirmbelieverthatlearningdoesn’talwayshappenintheclassroom.”
“Ilikethat,”Ireplygruffly,nodding.“Andsorry.Ididn’tmeanitlikethat.”Becauseshe’sright.I’vedonenothingbutjudgehersincethemomentIfirstsawher.
Andthat’sarealdickmove.
Oneshedoesn’tdeserve.
“LukeandIhadalotoffunresearchingwhichplantswecouldgrowthisweek.Ithinkhelearnedalot.Ididtoo.Guitarwasahugehit.Doyoumindifwedosomehorsebackridingnextweek?”
Mychestwarmsatthethoughtofherplantingintheyardwithhim,showinghimaninstrument.Skillsandmemoriesthatwilllastalifetime.Givinghimundividedattentionthathedeserves.“Yeah.Ofcourse.He’dlovethat.”
Apleasedsmiletouchesherlips,andsheletsoutalittlehummingnoise.
“He’sbeeninvitedtoabirthdaypartyinafewweekstoo,”Itellher.“ItstartsearlierthanIcangetthere.Doyouthinkyou’dbeokaywithtakinghimandthenI’llcomerightafterworkandtagyouout?”
“Yeah.Forsure.JustletmeknowwhereI’mgoing.”Weturnintothedrivewayandpulluptothehousebeforesheadds,“Orleavemeatrailoflettuceandwe’lljustfollowit.”
IshakemyheadandstiflealaughasIhopoutofmyblackpickupandboundtowardthefrontdoorofthesprawlingfarmhouse.There’sstillawarmglowinside,andIseetheflickeroftheTVthroughthefrontporchwindow.
Iopenthedoorandpeekin.
“You’renotevengoingtoknock?”Willaasksfrombehindme.Istart,thinkingshe’dhavestayedinthecar,andherhandfallstothemiddleofmyback.Butthistime,Idon’tevenfreeze.Iflexmyshouldersback,kindoflikingthefamiliarwayshetouchesme.I’veseenitwithLuketoo.She’sjustanaffectionateperson.
Ahugger,probably.
“Andriskwakinghimup?Hellno.”Craningmyheadandtakingastepforward,Itrytofocusonwhat’sgoingoninthehouse,butfindmyselfentirelywrappedupinthewayherfingersfeeltrailingdownmyspinewhenIstepaway.ThewayIshiverunderhertouchwhenI’mnotcoldatall.
MytonguedartsoutovermylipsasIenterthehouse,alltooawareofherbodypressinginclosebehindminetopeekovermyshoulderintothelivingroom,wheresomecartoonmovieisstillplaying.
TowheremydadandLukearecurleduponthecouchtogether.Asleep.
Abowlofpopcornisonthetable,alongwithatuboficecreamthatisnowmoreofamilkshakethananythingelse.
“Howpreciousarethey?”Willawhispersbehindme.
Ican’thelpbutsmile.LookingatLukealwaysmakesmesmile.IthassinceIfeltthatfirstlittlekick.SinceIcouldseethelittlebulgeofafootpressingoutonTalia’sstomach.
Shecomplaineditwasuncomfortable,andmaybeIwasn’tattentiveenoughtothat.BecauseallIcanrememberthinkingisthatitwasincredible.
“Precious,”Ihusk,walkingforwardtogetablanketfromthebasketinthecorner.Afterourmomdied,Inevergotattentionlikethisfrommydad.Hedidhisbest,buthewasn’tpresentforalongtime.Andbythetimehewas,Ididn’twanthisattentioninthiswayanymore.I’mgladheandLukearegettingitthough.
Icoverthemcarefullyandhearsomeshufflingbehindme.IturntoseeWillatidyingthetableandthensaunteringawaytowardthekitchen.Handsfullofthemesstheymade,hipsswayinghappily.Likethisisnoinconveniencetoheratall.
AsifastunnerlikeherwantstospendherFridaynightswithawashed-upsingledad,cleaningupthemessakidandhisgrandfathermade.
Mylidsfallshutasrealitycomescrashingbackin.Itdoesn’tmatterhowgoodherhandsfeelonmybody.
Thedividebetweenusistoomuch.It’stoowide.She’soutofmyleague,andI’dbeanassholetodragherdownintomine.
Butwhenwehopbackintothetruckandshepeeksoveratmeandsays,“You’reanamazingdad.Ihopeyouknowthat,”Iwanttodragherdownrightonthespot.11Willa
Summer:DidyouleavewithCade?
Willa:Yeah.
Summer:Youcouldhavestayedwithme!We’regettingacab.
Willa:Nah.Cade’shotter.Wenthomewithhiminstead.
Summer:Lol.
Summer:Wait.Areyoujoking?Ican’ttell.
Willa:Saveahorse,rideacowboy.
Summer:Istillcan’ttell.
***
“Wehavetostopmeetinglikethis,”IraspasIseeCade’simposingformstepontothedeck.Thesightofhimstandingaboveme,lookingdownonmeinthehottub,makesmystomachflip.He’sdownrightmouthwateringwithswimtrunksridinglowonhiships,framedbyacutV-shapethatdisappearsbeneaththem.
AV-shapemyfingersitchtotrace.
Ipressmythighstogetherattheintenseexpressiononhisface.Ifit’sascowl,itmightaswellbethehotone.Becausethelookissizzling.Maybeit’sinmyhead.Maybeit’swishfulthinking.
MaybeIhaveacrushonanolderman.
Again.
It’sprettymuchpartofmypersonalitynow.I’vealwayshadathingforoldermen.IliketobugSummeraboutherdadbeinghot—butI’mnotreallyjoking.
Ineedtherapy.
“Icanleave.”Cade’sdeepvoicerumblesthroughthecoolnightair,thesmelloffreshlymowedgrassminglingwiththelighttangofrain.Iheardthunderbutdidn’tseelighting,soIfiguredI’dtakemychanceswithstayingsubmergedinthehotwater.
“Don’tberidiculous.It’syourhouse,I’llleave.”Ipushtostandasheapproaches,failingatnotcheckingouttheimposingwidthofhisshoulders,thewayhisscruffdustsdownoverhissharpjawlineandthroat,themusclesinhisthighs.
WhenIgotostepout,Cade’sharshvoicelancesthroughthesilence.“Please.Sitdown.”
Iglanceuptoseewherethebiteinhisvoicecamefrom,buthiseyesaretrainedonmychest.Ontheunpaddedone-pieceswimsuitI’mwearing.
Onthewaymynipplepiercingspressagainstthefabric.
Withasmallsqueal,Ifallbackintothewaterandsinkdown.It’snotlikeI’membarrassedaboutmypiercings—Iactuallylovethem—butIdon’ttypicallywaltzaroundadvertisingthemtoemployers.
Iseehisjawpopasheavoidsmeetingmyeyeswhileheclimbsintothesunkentub,holdingaheftyglassofamberliquidinhishand.
“Didyou,uh,buildthisdeck?”Iofferlamely,mindracingwithhowImustbethenaughtygirlwhodropspantiesandflashesherpiercedtitsathim.
Butthenhe’sthemanwhosuggestedhewouldn’tbequietwhileIgavehimablowjob.TheonewhoranawaywhenIquestionedit.
Iberatemyselfinternally.He’sthemanwhosignsyourpaychecks,youhornyfool.
“Becauseit’sareallynicedeck.Thewayyouworkedthehottubintoit?Toptier.”
Hesettlesinacrossfromme,armsslungthelengthofthehottub,chindippedjustslightlyasheglaresatmefrombeneathhislashes.
Thisscowlhashimlookinglikeapredator.
Notagrumpyrancher.
Notasweetsingledad.
LikesomeonewhohasalotmoreexperiencethanIdostaringmedowninanunnervingway.
“Imadeit,Red.”
Red.It’snotthefirsttimeapersonhastakentocallingmethat.Usuallyit’sregularsatthebar.Usuallyit’sacasualnickname.
ButwithCade,itfeelsdifferent.Ilikeit.Feelslikehehasaspecialnameforme.
I’msolame.
“Youdidgood,”Ireply,rollingmylipstogetherandadmiringthedeck.I’mnotlying,it’sagreatdeck.Ijustfeellikeabumblingidiotbringingitup.It’sprobablyworsethantalkingabouttheweather.
“Wouldyoulikeadrink?”Hisvoiceisn’tharsh,butit’sstrained.
Hellyes.Adrinkwouldbeexcellentforthissituation.“Sure.”
Heshiftsandstaresdownathislapbeforestretchingonelong,muscledarminmydirection,acrystaltumblerheldbetweenstrongfingers,forearmsripplinginthedimlight.Theveinslikeanenticingpath.Myeyescan’thelpbutwanderuptohisbiceps.
Tohischestandthedustingofblackhairthere.
Tothatlittledipbetweenhiscollarbones.
Themanisawalking,talkingwetdreamandI’mnotevensureherealizesit
Itaketheglassfromhim,tryingtoignorethezingofelectricitythatshootsupmyarmwhenourfingersbrush.Idrophisglare,focusingontheglass—onnotdroppingit.“Thanks.”
WhenIpeekupathim,he’sstillglaringatme.AndI’mnotsurewhatI’vedonetomakehimmad.
“You’rewelcome.”
“Whatisit?”Itakeasip,gratefulthatIcanhidebehindtherimoftheglassforaminuteandtrytofindmycomposure.
“Bourbon.”
Thesweetburnofitwarmsmythroat,andIleanintothat,tryingtoletitsoothemynerves,theonesthatareriotingunderhisstare.
Moreoftenthannot,hisscowlsmakemewanttofliphimthefinger,butIfeelabitlikeweturnedacornertonight,andnowtheglareismakingmefeelself-conscious.
WhileIlicktheremnantsoffmylips,Islidethroughthewatertohanditbacktohim.Hiseyesfollowmytongueintheleastdiscreetway.ThebrushofitmoresensualthanIanticipated.Theweightofthewaterpressingonallthebestplaces.
I’veneverreactedthiswaytoamansimplylookingatme.Yearsinabarwithmengivingmecovetouslooks,andnonehadmefumblingaroundlikeanervousvirgin.
Ishouldhatehimforit.ButI’mintrigued.“Wanttoplayagame?”Iask,pushingbackwardsacrossthespacetowardmybench.MyfootglidesagainsthiscalfasIgo.
Hequicklypullshislegaway.“I’malittleoldforgames,Willa.”
Iquirkabrow,hidingmyarmsunderthewatertocoverthegoosefleshpoppingupinresponsetohiswords.“Nevertoooldfortruthordare.”
Hestaresatme,fingerspulsingaroundtheglassproppedupinhishand.
HavingLukeoutofthehouseismakingmebold.It’sjustusandwhatfeelslikeanendlessstretchoflandbehindme.“Truthordare,Cade?”
Hetakesaswig,eyesalmostcoalblackinthenight.“Truth.”
“Wherearemypanties?”
Hislipsslopeup,aslyexpressionhittinghisface.“Inthegarbage.”
Igiggle,tippingmyheaduptostareatthestarsoverhead.“Good.Yourturntoask.”
Adeeprumblehumsinhischest,andmyeyesdroptothedefinitioninhispecs.“Truthordare?”
“Truth.”NowayamIpickingdare.He’lldaremenottotalkforaweekorsomething.
“Whydidyouhaveunderwearinyourpurse?”
Ipushforwardtosnagtheglassofbourbonoutofhishand.Mykneebrusheshis,butthistimehedoesn’tmove.Itakeasmallsip,eyesshiftingtomeethis.“Honestly,Idon’tlikewearingunderwear.They’reuncomfortable,theyrideup,theyleavepantylinesthatIhate.They’rejustanuisance,soIcarryasparepair.”Ipointathim.“Cleanones.Justincaseofemergency.”
“Apantyemergency?”
Ishrug,pressingtheglassbackintohisfingersandgivingthemasqueezearoundtheglasstomakesurehedoesn’tdropit.“Youjustneverknow,”IreplyasImovetohisbenchratherthanacrossfromhim.
Itwillmakesharingthedrinkeasier.
That’swhatItellmyself.
“Whydopantylinesmatter?Ifpeopleknowyou’rewearingunderwear,isthat…”Hisfacescruncheskindofadorably.“Isthatabadthing?Everyonewearsunderwear.”
Ilaugh.“Well,that’strue.Iguessitshouldn’tmatter.”Iholdupanimaginarydrinkinhisdirectionforafakecheers.“Thankyou,patriarchy.”
“YouknowI’mright.”
“Youmightberight,butIstillhatethem.”
Hislipsworkagainsteachotherlikehe’sreallychewingonsomething.“Everymorningwhenyoutextmeyou’veputthemon,areyoulying?”
“Youjusthadyourturn,Eaton.Don’tbegreedywiththequestions.Ithoughtyoudidn’tlikeplayinggames?”
“Fuckmylife,”hemutters,takinganotherlongpullofthealcohol.
“Truthordare?”
“Truth.”
“What’sthestorywithLuke’smom?”
Theblankstarehegivesmeisunnerving,butIdon’tbackdown.I’mprobablybeingsnoopy,butIalsospendalldaywiththiskid.I’msupposedtoattendabirthdaypartywithhim.ItseemslikesomethingIshouldknow.Thebarebonesofit,atleast.
“DidIgotoofar?”
“No.It’sfine.”
“HerandIkneweachothersincehighschool.Shewasalwaysaround.Iknewshelikedme.Hell,everyoneknew.Shewasn’tsubtleaboutit.MymomdiedwhenIwaseight—givingbirthtomylittlesister—andHarveystruggledwithlosingtheloveofhislife,havinganewbornandthreelittleboystoraiseallonhisown.SoIsteppedup.Igrewupfastanddidmorethanmosteight-year-oldsshouldeverhavetodo.IlookatLuke…”Hiseyestrailaway,pastme,outintothepitchdarknessbehindme.“IwonderhowthehellIdidwhatIdid.Howeveryonejustletme.Ididschool,pitchedinaroundtheranch,cleaned,cookedwhatIcould,andhelpedeverywherepossible.Becausethatjustseemedlikewhatneededtobedone.”
Mychestachesuncharacteristically.Ourfun,playfulgametookamoreseriousturn.ItrytoimaginealittleCade.Aboynotreallygettingtomournhismother’sdeathbecausehejustthrewhimselfintodoingwhatneededtobedoneratherthandoingwhathewantedto.
“Ispentyearslivingthatway.It’sahardroletoshakeoff.AndIdon’tknowthatIwouldhaveifIcouldhave.AndthenonenightTaliawasthere.Shewaswilling.Iwasdrunkandsodamntiredofbeingresponsible.Andthatwasallittook.OnelittleplussignandIdidwhatneededtobedone.Iwentfromrollingmyeyesatheranticstogetmyattention,toirrevocablystuckwithher.Wegotmarried.Andwhilethechemistrywaslacking,I’lladmitIlikedhavingheraround.Thecompany.IguessIwassobusyworkingtheranchthatImissedthepartwhereshewasmiserable.Whereshewasoffsleepingwithotherpeople.”
Hechucklesnow.“OrmaybeInoticedandjustdidn’tcare.”
“Jesus,”Imutter.BecauseIdon’tthinkthismanhaseverstrungsomanywordstogetheranddirectedthematme.Idon’tthinkhe’severtoldmeanythingpersonal,andthenhegoesandunloadsallthat.AndIsoakitallupraptly,lovinggettingtoknowthismanwho’sbeenamysterywrappedupinanenigma.Lovingthathefeelscomfortableenoughtoshareitallwithme.
“Andthensheleft.Icamehomefromworkingonenightandtherewasanote.Lukewaswithmydad.Andthatwasthat.”
“HowoldwasLuke?”
“Two.”Hetakesadeepswig,thecolumnofhisthickthroatworkingasheswallows.
“Doessheevervisit?”
“Whoop.”Hisindexfingerpullsofftheglass,andhepointsatme.“You’vealreadyaskedtwoquestionsinarow,Red.Myturn.”
MylipspresstogetherandInod.“It’sadmirable,really.Everythingyou’vedoneforyourfamily.”Hedoesn’trespond,soIjustclearmythroatandforgeahead.“Yourturn.”
“Ibetyou’retoochickentopickdare,”hetaunts,eyeslookingalittleglassierthantheydidwhenhefirstwalkedouthere.Theheat.Thebourbon.Thewalkdownmemorylane.
Helooksdifferent.Lightersomehow.
“Dare.”I’mnotgoingtolethimfiguremeoutthateasily.
Heswirlstheglassandstudiesmelikehe’sweighinghisoptions.Withonemoreswigofliquor,hesays,“Idareyoutositupontheedgeofthehottubfortherestofthisgame.”
Iblinkslowly,hearingtherushofbloodinmyears.Thepoundingofmyheart.
Hethinkshecanmakemeputastoptothisgame.ButI’mnotsureCadeEatonknowsmeallthatwell.Ifhewantsmetositwherehecanwatchmewhilehedrinksbourbon,thenI’mallin.
I’mnotgoingtofold.
Pushingmyselfacrossthetubandoutofthewater,Iholdhisdarkeyes,lipspartingonalaboredbreath.Idon’tlookdownandneitherdoesheasIslidemyassontotheedgeofthehottub,leavingmylegsdanglingintothewater.
It’satestofwills,whichoneofusisgoingtolookdownatmychestfirst.Andthistimeit’snotjustthemetalbarbellscausingascene.Mynipplesarepointingstraightathim.
“Myturn,”Irasp.
Henods,stillholdingmygaze.“Yourturn.”
“Truthordare,Cade?”
“Truth.”Amuscleinhisjawtwitches.
“Wimp.”Hedoesn’tevenreacttomyjibe.“Ifyou’rereallygoodatrodeostuff,whywouldn’tyougodothoseeventswhileI’mheretohelpyou?”
Theweightofhisgazehasmyentirebodyhumming.Theintensityinhiseyes.Ifeellikehe’stryingtolightmeonfirewithhisglarealone.
Ileanbackonmyhands,waitingforhimtoanswer.
Butinstead,heclaimshisprize.Hiseyesrakeovermybody,andIfeelit,likethetipofsomethingcoolandpointed.There’snodistasteonhisfacethistime.It’spurewant.Andthat’salookIcanrecognize.
MycorethrobsandIfeeltoohot,evenwiththecoolnightairhuggingmyskin.
Isit,watchinghim.Watchinghisexpression.Watchinghimdevourmewithhiseyes.
Idothesame.Unabletotearmyattentionfromthebeautiful,intensemanbeforeme.Thewaytheskinonhisthroatthrobsoverhispulsepoint.Thesubtleshakeofhisheadashistonguepressesintothesideofhischeek.
“Becauseit’sfrivolous.IhaveresponsibilitiesthatIcan’toverlook.”He’stalkingtome,buthe’sstaringatmybreasts.
“Weallneedtodosomethingfrivoloussometimes.Evenyou.”Iabsentlywonderifwe’retalkingaboutrodeosatallrightnow.
“Careful,Willa.Youdon’tknowwhatyou’retalkingabout.”Hisjawpopsasheglancesupatme.
Ireachouttohim,pulsingmyfingers,silentlyaskingforwhat’sleftofthedrinkinhishand.Needingalittleliquidcourageofmyown.Hemovesforward,handingitoverandhoveringbeforeme.Indecisiontracinghiseveryfeature.
“You’reagiver,Cade.”ItakeasipbeforeIstaredownathimanddelicatelywipemylips.“Whatifyoutooksomethingforyourselfforonce?”
“Ican’t,”hisvoicecracksashelooksatmeimploringly.
“Youshouldletmehelpyou.Youdeservetoenjoyyourselftoo.”
NowIknowwearen’tjusttalkingabouttherodeos.We’retoeingaline.Alinebetweenemployeeandemployer.Alinebetweenanoldermanandayoungerwoman.Alinethatmaywelldifferentiateappropriatefrominappropriate.
“No.”Hegrabstheglassandpusheshimselfacrosstotheoppositesideofthesquare,leaningbacktofeastonmybody.Ichancealookdownatmyselfnow,seeingtheoutlineofmynipplesbattlingagainstthefabricandthethinnylonatthebottomofmyswimsuitlewdlywedgedbetweenmypussylips.
Somethingthathasn’tescapedhisattentionbasedonthewayhiseyessnagtherebeforeslippingbackuptothedarkskyaboveus.
Alittlepartofmewantstohideinthewater,butthebiggerpartofmegetsoffonsittinghereondisplayforhim.Knowinghelikeswhatheseesbutwon’tlethimselftouch.Knowinghewantedtoseeit.
Knowinghiscockhasgottoberock-hardunderthewater.
“Truthordare,”hebitesout.
“Truth,”Ireply,notsureIcanhandleanotherdareorwhereitmighttakeus.
Hisbrowsfurrowandhiseyesnarrowonmine.“Whatareyouthinkingrightnow?”
“ThatIlikesittingherewithyoureyesonme.”
“Fuck,”hegroans,runningawethandoverhisfaceandthroughhisdarkhairbeforetossinghisheadbackandpolishingoffthedregsofthebourbon.
“Whatareyouthinking?”Ipush.Wantingtoknow.Wantingtohearhimsayhelikeswhathesees.
“Ididn’tpicktruth,Willa.”
Ibitemylip,regardinghim.WonderingifI’mgoingwaytoofarrightnowandwonderingifitmatters.Watchinghimstruggletoholdhimselfback,watchinghimputhimselfthroughhelltokeepthingsappropriate.
“Truthordare?”Myvoiceisfullofundisguiseddesire.I’veusedthisvoicebeforetogetwhatIwant.It’sworkedformewithothermen.ButneverhasitresultedintheexpressionofdistressedpleadingonCade’sfacewhenheglancesupatmeandsays,“Dare.”
Hisexpressiondoesn’tsaycrawlontomylapandrideme.Itsayshelpme.
Andsothat’swhatIdo.Butprobablynotinthewayhesawcoming.
“IdareyoutodothoserodeosandletmetakecareofLukewhileyoudo.”
Thelookhegivesmebackisdarkandfathomless.It’sconfusedandthankfulallatonce.Disappointedandrelievedinthesamebeat.
WhenIhearhislow,“Okay,”Ismilesoftlyathimandswingmylegsoutofthewaterontothedeck,notoblivioustothewayhe’sblatantlywatchingmyeverymovenow.Ifeelmomentarilyself-conscious,likehemightseesomethinghedoesn’tlike.
ButIshakethethoughtaway.Thelightingisdim,anditdoesn’tmatterifheseesthedimplesonmyassanyway.
Awayfromthesteamofthehotwaterandthebuzzofthebourbon,thingslookawholelotclearer.AndwhatCadeEatonthinksofmybodyisoflittleimportance.
Iwrapatowelaroundmyself,turningonlywhenIhitthebackdoor.“Goodnight,Cade.”Hedropshisheadbackandstaresattheblanketofstars.“Thanksfor…thegame.”
Hedoesn’tturntolookatmewhenherasps,“Goodnight,Red.”12Cade
Cade:Fine.I’lldoit.
Lance:Yeah?
Cade:Yeah.
Lance:Fuckyeah,buddy.Let’sdothis!
Cade:ButIwanttowin.Nomediocreshit.Idon’twanttowastemyweekendslosing.
Lance:Deal.Youneedtoborrowahorse?
Cade:No.Mineknowsherjobbetterthananyofyourshinyshowponies.
Lance:LOL.Kindaforgotwhatadickyouare.
***
Igroanwhenthefirstsplashofcoffeehitsmytongue.IneeditbecauseI’vebeenupallnighttryingtowillawaytheworld’smostpersistenthard-on.
ThankstoWillafuckingGrant.
Icouldheartherustlingofherblanketsintheroomnexttomineandwonderedwhatshewasdoing.Tossingandturning?Slidingadaintyhandbetweenthoseprettythighs?
Thinkingofme?
AndIrefusedtorelievemyself.IwrappedmypalmaroundmythickshaftandgaveitonefirmtugwhileIlaidthere.ThenIstopped.Becauseblowingmyloadwhilethinkingofthetwenty-somethingnannysleepingontheothersideofthewalljustfeltfuckinggross.Daringhertositontheedgeofthehottub,whenwebothknewwhy,wasbadenough
God.WhatwasIthinking?
Ileanbackagainstthekitchencounterandswipemyhandovermymouth.Outofcontrol,that’swhatIam.
It’slikeIdidn’tbreakenoughruleswhenIwasyounger—Iwastoobusybeingserious—andnowthatstreakiscroppinguponme.
It’sperfectlynatural.Willaisasmokeshow.She’dmakeapriestcrumble.AndI’mnomanofthecloth.
“Goodmorning.”ShewaltzesintothekitchenlikeIsummonedherjustbythinkingofher.Allwildcopperhairpiledontopofherheadandfresh-faced,whichismakingherlookawfullyyoung.
Butwhenmyeyesdroptoherchest,allwarningthoughtsofherbeingtooyounggrowwingsandflyrightthefuckoutofmyhead.Herperkytitsareteasingmethroughasoft,whitecottonconcerttee.
Icouldn’ttellyouwhichbandit’sfor,becauseallIcanseeisoutlinesofthosegoddamnnipplepiercings.
Tauntingme.Remindingmehowthatpretty,palepurpleswimsuitwedgeditselfbetweenherpussylips.
Jealousyofabathingsuitisanewfeelingforme.
“Goodmorning,”Ibiteout,madderatmyselfthanher.ButIlashoutallthesame.“Areyouaversetobrasaswell?”
Herlaughisairyassherisesonhertippy-toestoreachthetopofthecupboardwhereIkeepthecoffeecups.Myeyesaredrawntothewayhercalvesflex,tonedlegsdisappearingintoapairofbabyblueshort-shorts,herbarefeetonmyfloor.There’ssomethingintimateabouthavingWillainmyspacelikethis.AndLukeisn’tevenheretomakeagoodreasonforit.
“Here,I’llgrabthat.”Itonlytakesmeonesteptostanddirectlybehindherandreachintothebackofthecupboard.IguessIdon’tnormallygothroughmugsthisquicklywhenI’mtheonlyoneusingthem.
“Thanks,”shebreathes,shrinkingbackdownontothesolesofherfeet,brushingthecurveofherassalongmyfrontasshedoes.
Istepawayquickly,placingthemugonthemarblecountertopandwillingmycocktonotpopupandmakeaspecialappearance,outingmeastheworld’sbiggestcreep.
Asshepoursherselfacoffee,shesays,“Notatallaversetobras.”Herlipstipup.“ButIdon’tnormallysleepinthem.Justgrabbingcoffee.”
Sheleansagainstthecountertop,allsmugwithherself.
“DoyounormallywalkaroundlikethatwhenLukeishere?”
Herhandswraparoundthemug,andshetakesatentativesip,eyeingmeovertherimasshedoes.“No.InormallywaituntilIhearyouleave.ThenIgetupandmakemycupofcoffee.”
Igrunt,feelinglikeadickforpolicinghowshewalksaround.Lukewouldn’tevennotice.I’mthefuckerwithhisheadinthegutterwhocan’thandleit.
“ThenIgobacktomyroomandputmypantieson,”shehuffsoutquietly,peeringupplayfullyfrombehindhermug.
“Wait.Didyoujustsaythatyouwaitformetoleaveandthenmakecoffee?”
Herbrowarches.“Smarterthanyoulook,Eaton.”
“ButI’mupat4:30.”
Sheshrugs.“Yeah.It’skindofnice.Isitonthefrontdeckandreadmydirtybooks.It’speaceful.Ilikethemorning,andsinceI’mnotoutuntilthreea.m.working,Icanactuallyenjoythem.Ihatesleepingin.IalwaysfeellikeI’vewastedmyday.”
“Whydoyouwaitformetoleave?”
ShegivesmeafacethatsaysshethinksI’manidiot.“Becauseifyou’rethisgrumpymidmorning,I’dhatetoseeyoufirstthing.Thosecowboysdownattheranchmustbeterrifiedofyou.”
Igrunt.Theyare.Andthat’sjusthowIlikeit.
“Domynipplesbotheryou,Cade?”
Coffeespraysfrommymouth.
Igetmostofitbackinmymug,butnotall.Myhandissoaked,andIcanfeelthedropletsofitinmybeard.
Willablinksatmeinnocently,andmyheartbeatthundersinmyears.
Fakeinnocence.Sheknewwhatshewasdoingwhensheaskedthatquestion.
“No.”Iwipeatmyface,turningtoputmycoffeebackdownonthecountertop.IneedtopickmynextwordscarefullysoIdon’tcomeofflikeacondescendingasshole.
IknowIoftencomeacrossthatway,andIdon’twanttowithWilla.It’sanunfamiliarfeeling,wantingsomeonetolikeme.“It’sjustthat—”
“It’sfunny.Ithoughtaboutyoutellingmepantylinesaren’tsomethingweshouldworryaboutpeopleseeing,andI’mfeelingthesamewayaboutmynipples.”
Iblinkather.
Hell.No.
“Weallhavenipples,right?”
Iswallow,atalossforhowtoreasonmywayoutofthis.She’strappedmeinaboxofmyownlogic.
“Forexample…”Herbrightgreenfelineeyesdroptomychest.“Icanseeyoursrightnow.”
Mychinsnapstowardmychest,andsureenough,mynipplesaregivingmeaway
“Andtheydon’tbothermeatall.”Shelicksherbottomlipslowly,withintention,beforeonecheekhitchesupinalopsidedsmirk.
Thensheturnsandwalksbacktowardherbedroom,holdsonefistupaboveherhead,andsays,“Fuckthepatriarchy.”
AndI’mleftstandingthere.Watchingher.Wonderingifshe’swearinganypantiesunderthosesoft,looseshortsIcouldsoeasilypulltotheside.
***
“Youcan’tputyourfingersthere,pal.Oryou’regoingtocutthemcleanoff.”
“IknowwhatI’mdoing,Dad.”Lukerollshiseyesandcontinuestochopacucumberinthestupidestwayimaginable.
Igrabtheknifeandliftitup.“Listen.You’regoingtoholdthisproperlyorriskgivingmeaheartattack.Iwantyoutoknowhowtodothisproperly.Yousaidyou’dlistentomyinstructions.”
Thetrade-offwasthatIhavetolistentohisterriblepopmusiconthespeaker.Thestuffthatallhislittlefriendshaveindoctrinatedhimwithinonlyoneyearofschool.
It’sSundaynight,andI’mmakingafull-blowngourmetmeal.LukeishelpingmecookbecauseIrefusetoraiseamanwhodoesn’tknowhowtoholdhisowninakitchen.FeedingthepeopleIcareaboutishowItellthemIcarewithouthavingtosayitoutloud.
Becausesayingitoutloudmakesitalittletoorealforme.
“Fine,”hehuffsout,dramaticallyshrugginghisshoulders.
“Yourdad’sright.”Willaappearsoutofthinair,reachinginandswipingacoinofcucumberandpoppingitintohermouth.“Ifyoucutlikethat,allyou’llbeleftwithisathumb,andhowwillIteachyoutoplayguitar?”
“Willa!”Luketurnsonthechairhe’sstandingonandlauncheshimselfintoherarms.“Wemissedyou!”
Shelaughs,squeezinghisribsandspinninghiminalittlecircle.They’reequallydramatic.
“Shespentonenightinthecity,Luke.”Icrossmyarms,tryingtohidehowadorableIfinditthathelikeshersomuch.
WillawinksatmeoverLuke’sshoulder.“Imissedyoutoo,youlittlepsycho.I’mnotsosureyourdadmissedmethough.”
“Pfft.”Luke’sheadrollsassheplaceshimbackontothechair.“Hedid.Hetoldmeso.”
Willalooksvisiblyshockedbythat.“Oh,yeah?”
“Hesaidthehousefeelssilentwithoutyouhere.”
Herlipstwitchasshetriestoholdbackherlaughter.“IthinkthatjustmeansItalktoomuchorplaymymusictooloud.”
“Noway.”Lukesighs.“Ilovetalkingwithyou.Andplayingmusicwithyou.”
There’sabeautyinchildrenhisagesayingwhattheymean.Theydon’twonderhowitwillcomeoff,orifsomeonemightreadtoomuchintoit.Ifit’sintheirheart,theysayit.IknowLukelovestalkingwithWilla,anditmakesmychestache.
Especiallywhenshegiveshimthefull,megawattsmilethatlightsherupheadtotoe,ruffleshishair,andsays,“Ilovetalkingwithyoutoo,buddy.”
“We’recookingyoudinner,”Lukeannounces.
“We’recookingdinner,”Iclarify.“Ofcourse,you’rewelcometojoinus.”
Idon’twantherthinkingI’mdownrightobsessedwithher.
Idon’twantherknowingIdidkindof…noticeherabsence.It’sonlybeenacoupleofweeks,butI’vegonefrombeingannoyedbyherpresencewhenIgethomefromahardday’sworktosmilingasIkickoffmybootsandlistentoherandLukelaughortalktogether.
Musictomyfuckingears.
“Youboysareamazingchefs.Countmein.”
IgobacktopeelingpotatoesinthesinkbesideLukebutsay,“Let’sputsomedifferentmusiconforWilla.”It’stheperfectopportunitytogetridofwhateverthishappy,danceableshitis.
Horrified,Lukeasksmewhat’swrongwith“WatermelonSugar”,butbeforeIcananswer,Willatiltsherheadatmeandsays,“Yeah,Cade.YougotsomethingagainstHarryStyles?”
Iglanceoverattheirwideeyes.Onesetoffended,theotheramused.“It’sjustso…pop-y.”
“Ihaveanidea.”Willa’shandsnapsup,andthenshestridesoutofthekitchen.
Itrynottostareatherassinthedenimcutoffsshe’swearing.
Ifail.
ThenI’mbacktothepotatoes,skinningthemaggressivelywhiletryingtomonitorLuke’spreciouslittlefingers.He’sfocusingsohardthathistongueiscapturedbetweenhislips,eyesnarrowed.
Helooks…grown-up.Iknowhe’snotyet,buthe’salsonotthefullydependanttoddlerheoncewas.Hedoesn’twakemeupmultipletimesanight.Hecangethisowncerealoutforbreakfast.
It’sterrifying.
Themusicshutsoff,andIturntothekitchentablewhereWillahaspulledachairoutforherselfandhasabeautiful,ornateacousticguitarslungoverherlap.“WhatshouldIplay?”
Lukeshoutsforhertoplay“WatermelonSugar”beforehedropstheknifeandsitstowatchher.
Ican’tblamehim.She’spracticallyglowing.
Igroandramatically,justpickingonhimnow.Feelingalarminglyrelaxed.Bettersomehow,knowingthatWillaishereunderthesameroofratherthanoutinthecityorwhateversheandSummergotuptoontheirgirls’weekend
Perfectlynormaloutingfortwoyoungwomen,I’msure,butI’veneverbeengoodatturningofftheprotectivestreak.Theonethat’sconstantlyworryingabouteveryone’ssafety.
“Picksomethingeasy,like‘TwinkleTwinkle.’Wedon’tknowifWillaisanygood.”
“Dad!”
Willalaughsandshakesherhead,beforedroppinghergazetothestringsthatherfingersandpickhoverover,acurtainofwarmcopperhairshieldingherfacelikeshe’salittlebitshy.Herlonglashesfluttershutforamoment,andherkneebounces.
Thenthesmoothhumofthestringsfillsthekitchen.Iimmediatelyrecognizeitasasloweddownacousticversionofthesongthatwasjustplaying.
Istopandputdownthepeelerinmyhand.I’dbethefirstpersontoconfessthatIleavemyradiotunedtothecountrystation.I’mnoconnoisseur.AndwhenI’moutinthepastures,thesoundtrackisthesnortsofourmountsandthethrumofthecows’hoovesagainsttheland.
Truthfully,silencedoesn’tbothermeintheleast.
Butshe’simpossibletolookawayfrom.Ifiguredshe’dhavesomebasicknowledgeoftheguitar,butthisisimpressive.Ormaybeit’sjustbecauseit’sher.
There’ssomethingsoulful,somethingthatwarmsmetomybonesasIwatchher.
“Wait!Youmissedthepartwhereyousing!”Luke’stoneisaccusatory.
Willapeeksup,timidlypushingherhairbehindherear.“Idon’tsing,Luke.Ijustlikeplayingguitar.”
“Yousangduringourdancepartytheotherday.”
Shedropshereyes,lipspressingtogether,cheeksflushingtheprettiestshadeofpink.“Thatwasjustforfun.”
“Sing!Sing!Sing!”
Adeeplaughbubblesupoutofme.Lukeissodamnpersistent.
Willa’seyeswidenonmine,andIcrossmyarmswithashrug.“Sing,Willa.Let’shearit.”
Herblushdeepens,crawlingdownherneckontoherchest.It’showshe’dlookwithbeardburnonher.
Mybeardburn.
“Fine.ButIdon’thaveagoodvoice,sonomakingfun.”
“Youdotoo!”
ShepointsatLuke.“Thiswassupposedtobebackgroundmusicwhileyoucooked,notaconcert.”
“Itsoundssogood,Willa.Iwanttoplaytheguitarasgoodasyou.”
Theshysmilethattouchesherlipsasherheaddipsdownhasmesofteningtowardher.She’ssobrashsometimes,andthenthere’sthissweetside.Thisbashfulside.Thisinsecureside.
Andshehasnobusinessfeelingthatwayatall.
“It’sbeautiful,Willa,”Iadd,hopingtoreassureher,buthercheeksgodarker.
WhatIwanttosayiswhollyinappropriate.
You’rebeautiful.
Howwasyournightout?
I’msorryIhaven’tbeenleavingenoughcoffeeforyouinthemorning.
Wordsthatlodgeinmythroat.Turntocottonbattingonmytongue.WordsandfeelingsIdon’tknowwhattodowithanyway.
Shepullsthehairbackdowntocoverheralittleandstartsthesongagainfromthebeginning.AtinypartofmethinksIshouldturnandkeeppeeling,butabiggerpartofmecan’ttakemyeyesoffhersmoothlegsbentundertheguitar.Onebarefootproppedonthelowerbarofthechair.Slenderankleflexed,thecurvedarchofherfootsomehowsensual.Irunintothisproblemwhereshe’sconcernedalot.
Themosttriviallittledetailshavemeobsessingoverher.
Thetunesoundsjustasgoodasitdidthefirsttime.Sultryandslow.It’slikeshetooksometeenyboppersongandmadeitsexy.
Herleanfingersmoveacrossthestringseamlessly,stretchingandflexingwitheverynoteshestrums.
Andthenhervoicekicksin,andit’sashottothegut.
Raspyandsweet,allatonce.
Shyandsure.
Quietandstrong.Justlikeher.
Thefirstlineissomethingaboutstrawberriesandsummerevenings,whichisfitting,becauseherstrawberryredlipsmove,andI’mentranced.
Lukeswaystothesong,happyandoblivious.Butnotme.Icanfeelmypreciouscontrolslippingwhereshe’sconcerned.Andwhoknewsomestupidsongwouldbethethingtodoit?
Shepeeksupandhervoicebreakseversoslightlywhenshecatchesmestaringherdown.
Shedoesn’tlookawaythough.
Thelyricstalkaboutbreathinginandbreathingout—whichisagreatreminderformeatthiscurrentjuncture.
Mystomachbottomsout,andIworryaboutwhat’swrittenonmyface.Mycarefullypracticedpokerfaceisslipping,likeshe’speelingitback,piecebypiece.Allthearmor,alltheprotection.
I’mnotreadytobelaidbare.Notbyher.Notbyanyone.
Luke’smommaynothavebeentherightwomanforme,butshewasawomanforme.AndIdidmybesttokeepherhappy.Itriedtoloveher.Andinmyownway,Idid.Itwasn’tcinematicbutIwasfaithful.Iprovidedforher.Iworkedmyselftothebonetobuildusagoodlife.
Andsheleft.
Itwasn’tenough.Eventoday,Idon’thavemuchmorethanIdidthen.
AndattheendofAugust,Willawillleavetoo.Backtohercityexistence.Backtobarsandfamousmusicians.Backtoanexcitinglifethatdoesn’tincludeamoodyrancherwithachiponhisshoulder.
Maybeitwouldbefine.MaybeIcouldlethergoandmoveon.
Lukewillbesadeitherway.Buthe’llbedevastatedifIlethimthinkthere’smoreherethanaseasonalarrangement.Andhisheartisn’toneI’mwillingtogamble.
So,Iturnmybackonherandgetbacktopeelingpotatoes.
Ilistentoeverynote,hangoneveryword,andfeelgratefulthatshecan’tseemyfaceasIdo.
“Again!Again!”Lukeexclaims,andIjustshakemyhead.Iwon’tsaynobecauseI’menjoyingitwaytoomuchtostopher.
“Howaboutanothersong?”sheaskshim.
“Whatsong?”
“Asongyourdadwillknow.”
“Hedoesn’tknowanygoodmusic,”Lukeprovidesverymatter-of-factly.
MyshouldersshakeasIlaughsilently.“It’strue,”Icallovermyshoulder.
“He’stooold!”
Iturnandnarrowmyeyesathimjokingly.
“He’llknowthisonethen.”Willa’sfingersstrumafewchords,andIinstantlyknowthesong.
Iturnmyfakedirtylookonher,andshegrinsback.Whodoesn’tknow“DustontheBottle”?It’saclassic.
Hervoiceisthickwithamusement,herposturestraighterwhenIsmileather.ShelightsupwhenIlaugh.
Shesingsaboutdustonabottleandhowthecontentsjustkeepgettingbetterwithage.It’sfunny,she’spokingfunatmeandsheknowsit.Thenightflowsfromthere.Conversation,jokes,goodfood.AndafterthatsongLukehasresortedtoteasingWillaandmeaboutbeingold.He’sdubbedus“Grandma”and“Grandpa.”
“Passthemashedpotatoesplease,Grandma.”Hedissolvesintoafitofgiggles,thegoldeneveningraysglintingoffofhisdark,shinyhair,cheeksrosyfromsummerdaysspentinthesun.
Ifeelalarmingly…atease.
“You’reaweirdkid,youknowthat?”Willapicksupanunevenlycutpieceofcucumberandpopsitintohermouth.“Atotalweirdo.”
WeirdoisLuke’sfavoritejokeinsultrightnow,andhelaughssohardthathegaspsforair.Willalaughstoo,lookingathimwithsomuchaffectionthatmyhearttwistsinmychest.
“No,Willa!You’reaweirdo!I’veseenyoudance.You’rethebiggestweirdointheworld!”
Herhandfallsacrossherchest,andsheleansbackdramatically.“Howdareyou,LukeEaton.That’sjustcruel.Idancebeautifully.”
“Showmydad!Showmydadhowweirdyoudance!”Amusedtearsglisteninthecornersofhiseyes,andhewipesatthemwithpudgylittlefingers.
“Okay,fine.Hecanbethejudge.Gotthat,Cade?LukeandIaregoingtodance,andyou’lldecidewhichofusisthebiggerweirdo.”
Ileanbackinmychairandcrossmyarmsovermychest,wonderingwhyIeverdislikedher.HowcanasinglepersonnotlikeWillaGrant?
She’sfuckingenchanting.
“Okay?”Herheadquirks,andhersilkyhairtumblesaroundhershoulders.
Igiveherasmallsmile,chucklingattheabsurdityoftheircompetition,buttooentertainedtostopthem.“Okay.”
“Good.”Shegrinsatme,movingovertothecountertoptohookherBluetoothuptothespeaker.“Let’sdo…”Sheglancesoverhershoulderatmeasherthumbpressesdownandthefirstfewnotesof“Summerof’69”filtersoutthroughthesoundsystem.
Ishakemyhead.Butcan’thelpthesmilestretchingacrossmyface.Shewould.
Willastartsoffwithaterriblemoonwalk,beforemovingintoahorrendoussprinkler.Shemayhavebeenshyplayingguitar,butsheisn’tshyaboutdancing.She’sfun.She’sfunny.AndLukelovesit.Hedoesn’tevendance.Hejustjumpsaroundlaughingather,spindlyarmsandlegsflailingwildly.
Shedoessomeshaky,twerkymovethatI’msurethekidsthesedayshaveanamefor,andeventuallygrabshishandsinherstomakehimdancewithher.Hejiggleshishipsandsmilesupathersowidelythatmycheekshurtjustwatching.
IrealizetheyhurtbecauseI’msmilingthathard.ThebackofmythroatachesasIwatchWillaspinmylittleboyaroundthekitchenonwhat’smeanttobeherdayoff.
“Doyouseehowweirdsheis,Dad?”Lukecallstome.
“Yeah.Superweird,”Iagreeassheturnstogivemeafakescowloverhershoulder.
TheonlyweirdthingiswhatI’mfeelingaboutawomanI’veknownformereweeks.
It’snotjustweird.
It’sfuckingabsurd.
“Okay.NowGrandmaandGrandpadance!”Lukegiggles,pullingWillaovertome.
Iscowlatthemboth.
Willaholdsahanduptohermouthandwhisper-shoutstowardLuke,“Ithinkhemightbetheweirdest.”
Lukecackles,andevenIcan’tturnhimdown.BryanAdamsisn’tsobad,andtheybothlooktotallyirresistiblestandinginfrontofmewithwidesmiles,brighteyes,androsycheeks.
“Let’sgo,Grandpa.”Shereachesahandtowardme,elicitinganotherroundofmaniclaughterfromLuke,whoisclearlybeyondexhaustedbasedonhowbadhehasthegiggles.
Iwrapmyhandaroundherswithagroan,likeI’mannoyed,eventhoughI’mnot.
Notevenalittlebit.
IstandandspinWillainaquickcircle,tellingmyselfthatI’vealreadydancedwithherbeforeatTheRailspur.
Thisisjustinmykitchen.
Thereisn’tmuchleftinthissonganyway.
“I’llberightback!”Luketearsoutofthekitchen,cacklingliketheJokerashegoes.
Ispinheragain,feelingmyboxersgrowtighteratthelightlaughterthatcrestsherperfectlips.Whenthesongendsandthebeatofsilenceslipsintoasofter,slowermelody,Ishouldstepaway.
ButIdon’t.Instead,Ipullherclose,notmissingthetiny,shockedgaspshebreathesoutasIdo.
“ShouldIstop?”Idropmyvoice,lettingmyeyeslingeronherlips.
Herresponsecomesfast,withouthesitation.“No.”
Ipullhercloser,liningourhipsupandfeelingherhandslideacrosstheexpanseofmyshoulders.
Aswesway,Itakemytimetrailingmyfingersoverherribcage.AndIdon’tmissthewaysheshiverswhenIdo.
“You’reahellofadancer,”Ihusk.
Shesmilesupatme.“Yeah.Atotalweirdo.”
Ichuckle,rubbingathumboverherlowerback.Herhandfeelsclammywhereit’sgrippedinmine.
“Prettygoodatguitar,Imightadd.”
“Ah,well,whenFordGrantisyourdad,it’sprettymuchmandatory.”
“Whataboutthevoice?”
“Whataboutit?”Hereyesroll,suddenlyshyagain.
“Yourvoiceisbeautiful.”Isayitbecauseit’strueandImethereyewhenIdo.She’sstrangelyuncomfortablewithbeingcomplimented,alwaysdeflectingormakingajoke.Weswayquietlytothesong,listeningtothewords.
Itgoesonaboutastranger’sheartthathasnohome—smilescoveringyourheart.It’shauntingandbeautiful,andIfindmyselfstrainingtolisten.“Whatsongisthis?”Iask,entranced.“Hervoicealmostsoundslikeyours.”
Hereyesdartaway,andmyhandtightensonherwaist.Iletmyselfimaginemycallousedhandsglidingoverhersmoothskin.Worshippingeveryinchofher.Sinkingintoher.
“Thesongis‘FadeintoYou’byMazzyStar.It’soneofmyfavorites,”sherushesitoutquicklybeforethecomplimentleadshertochangingthesubjectentirely.“ThankyoufortrustingmewithLuke.ThisisalreadythebestsummerI’vehadinalongtime.”
“You’rewelcome.Thankyouformakinghimlaughlikethat.Bestsoundintheworld.Youmissinganythingaboutthecity?”
“No.Justriding.”
Shestepscloser,andIfeelthepressofheragainstme.Theheat.Thefriction.Myhandsplaysonherback.“I’llfindyouahorsetoride.”
“You’reagoodman,CadeEaton.Quitepossiblyoneofthebest.”HervoiceissosoftthatIbarelyhearit.
ThehaironthebackofmyneckstandsonendasIdropmyheadtowardher.Everythingaroundusfadesaway.Idon’tknowhowshehasthisknackfortellingmethethingsIcrave.Tracingmyinsecuritiesthewayshedoes.Soothingthehurtshedoesn’tevenknowexists.
ItrailthetipofmynoseupthesideofherneckandwishIcouldswallowthesmallmoanthatescapesher.Iwantsomuchmorethanonestolendanceinthekitchenwhilemysonisoffdoinggodknowswhat.
“Youguysareboththebiggestweirdos!”Lukemocksusasherunsbackinwearinghistoo-smallBatmancostumefromlastHalloween.Webothstartle,pullingawayquickly,realizingwewerealtogethertooclosejustnow.
AndmaybeLuke’snotwrong.There’sdefinitelysomethingweirdhappening.13Willa
Willa:Hi,Lawyerfriend.CanIaskforsomelegaladvice?
Summer:Doyouneedmetocomebailyouout?Justsendtheaddress.I’mthere.
Willa:Isitillegaltobangyourhotboss?
Summer:ArewetalkingaboutyourbrotherorCade?
Willa:Fuckinggross.
Summer:Dude.I’vehadtolistentoyoumakehotdadjokesforyears.Shootersgottashoot.
Willa:I’mnevercomingtoyouforadviceagain.
Summer:Mylegaladviceistobeveryspecificwhenyouaskaquestion.
Willa:OK,FINE.IsitillegaltobangCade?
Summer:You’dhavetoaskhim.Haven’tseenhimwithawomantheentiretimeI’veknownhim.Maybehethinksit’sillegal?
Willa:He*is*asticklerfortherules.MaybeI’llbreakthemandseeifhespanksme
Summer:Fuckinggross.
***
OnceIhearthedoorclickshutthenextmorning—soCadedoesn’thavetobescandalizedbymynipples—IpeekinthroughLuke’sslightlyopendoortoseehimsprawledwideinhisbed,lookingadorablyexhausted.
Smilingtomyself,Ipadthroughthequiethousetowardthekitchen.Thesunisup,butbarely,andthelightinthehouseisblue.Thebirdssoundsodamnhappy,trillingawayoutside.Ican’twaittositonthefrontporchwithmybookandahotcupofcoffee.
IstopinmytrackswhenIgetfarenoughintothekitchentoseethatthereisstillasizeableamountofcoffeeleftinthepot.
AsIdrawcloser,IseeaPost-itnoteonthecounter,writteninachoppyscrawl.
Red,
Thecoffeeisforyou.Startingsometwo-year-oldstoday.Ifyoufeellikegettingyourbackbroken,meetmeatthebarnandyoucansitonone.
–C
Isnort.Oh,Ifeellikegettingmybackbrokenalright.
Byhim.
Notahorse.
He’salsoleftamugbesidethecoffeemaker.Itrailmyfingersovertheroundedhandle,rememberingthefeelofhimpressinginbehindmeasIreachedforacuptheothermorning.Thefeelofhimpushinghishipsintomineasweswayedinthekitchen.
Ipourmyselfacup,andittastesbetterjustbecausehemadeit.Justbecausehelefteverythingout,knowingIwaswaitingforhimtoleave.BecausehelistenedtowhatItoldhim.
Cadeistheembodimentofactionsspeakinglouderthanwords.Hewasn’tabouttofallalloverhimselfapologizingfornotmakingenoughcoffeeforme.Instead,hejustmademoreandleftmeamug,knowingthatitwouldmakemefeelgood.
AndaPost-itnoteaddressedtoRed.
MaybeI’manidiotbutitfeelssweet.ComingfromCade,itissweet.
ThemorningpassescalmlyuntilLukeasaurusRexwakesupandmakesmerunawayfromhimlikeI’mterrified.
Ifeedhimasuitabledinosaurbreakfast,andthenweheaddowntothebarntoseewhatstartingatwo-year-oldhorseislike.
Orinmycase,tocheckoutDaddyCowboy.
IparkmyJeepnearthemainbarn,andwefollowthesoundsofhootingandholleringtotheotherside,walkinghandinhand.
“Thereheis!”Lukeshouts,pointingathisdad.
Mymouthdriesoutonthespot.Idoshowjumping—fancywhitepantsandhorsesimportedfromEurope—sowhileIknowhorses,cowboysarestillanewballgameforme.
Butgoddamn.Whataballgameitis.
Cadesitsonadarkhorse,speckledwithgray—abeautifulblueroancolorwithblackmaneandtail—whichperfectlymatcheshisblackcowboyhat,signaturebicep-huggingblackT-shirt,andblackleatherchapsoverwornjeans.
He’sseatedcomfortablyinthesaddle.Leather-glovedhandsonthehornofhissaddle,hippoppedcomfortably,withatoothpickhangingoutthesideofhismouthandanamusedsmirkonhislips.
He’ssofuckinghot.
He’salwaysbeenhot,butIwasn’tsosoldonhispersonality.Ashitpersonalitycanreallyruinanotherwisehotdude,butthereisn’tanythingwrongwithCade’spersonality.He’sjustslowtowarmup.Alittlechilly.
ButI’mfindingIlikealotabouthim.I’mfindinghedoesn’tmakemefeelchillyatall.Hemakesmefeelhotandbothered.
“Dad!”Lukerushesforward,andCade’sheadflicksinhisdirection,thatsmirkmorphingintoafull-blownsmile.
Onethatmakesmyheartstutter-step.
“Hey,bud.”HeswingsalegoverhishorseandslidesdownjustintimetocatchLukeinhisarms.Thesamegreetingtheydoeverynight.
“WhendoIgetmyownhorse?”Lukeeyesthegroupofyoungstersintheholdingpen,glancingattheroundpenwhereacowboysitsonahorsedoingitsbesttobuckhimoff.
“Whenyouactuallytakeaninterestinlearningaboutthem.They’reaseriouscommitment,andtheonlythingyou’recommittedtorightnowisdinosaurs.”
“IwantWillatogivemeridinglessons,notyou,”Lukeannounces,handsonhiships.
Cadelooksatme,rollinghiseyesplayfully.IsLukeasmidgenobsessedwithme?Possibly.
“Hi,Red.”
Istartleasthecowboybehindhimgetsturfedontothemetalfencepanel.Othermensittingaroundhaveagoodlaughattheguy,whospitsonthegroundandshakeshishead.“Goddamnfuckingasshole!”heexclaims.
“Gottabesmarterthanthehorse,Lee,”Cadecalls.“Andwatchyourfuckingmouth.There’sachildandacitygirlinourmidst.”
“Sorry,boss.”
Lukegigglesatthef-bombsflyingleftandright.AndIfeelitthen.Alleyesswivelinmydirection,themenstraighteningorclearingtheirthroats,likeI’veneverheardaswearwordinmylife.LeaveittoCadetomakemeseemlikesomefragileprincess.
IwaveintheirgeneraldirectionandofferafriendlysmileasIdrawl,“Nicetofuckin’meety’all.”
Lukebarksoutalaugh.He’ssogoodformyconfidence,alwaysapprovingofmyjokes.“Badword,Willa!”
Acoupleoftheguyspresstheirlipstogether,tryingnottoshowtheiramusement.BecauseifIcanfeelCade’sscowl,nodoubt,socanthey.
“Nicetomeetya,citygirl!”oneguycallsfromwherehe’sseatedatopafence,wavingonedustyhandinmydirection.
Whenonedominofalls,sodotherest.WithinsecondsmostoftheguysarelaughingandCadeisshakinghisheadatme.
HedoesthatalotwhereI’mconcerned.
Iwinkathim.“Thankyouforthecoffee.I’mreadyforyoutobreakmyback.”
Hisfacepales,likeherealizeshowIcouldhaveinterpretedhisnote.“Imeantyoucouldrideifyouwantedto.”
“Oh,Iwantto.”
Heatflaresonhischeeks.Ishouldn’tprodthebearlikethis,butit’sjustwhoIam.Iliketowatchhimsquirm.
“Ahorse.Youcantakemine.”Hehikesathumboverhisshoulder.
“Nah,IthinkI’lltakeoneoftheyoungones.”
“Nochance.”Hisjawhardens.
“Whynot?”Iquirkabrow.
“Idon’twantyoutogethurt.”Hesaysitsosimply,likeitshouldbeobvioustome.
“ButIthoughtthat’swhatthenotemeant?Unlessthenotereallymeant…”Itrailoffandwagglemyeyebrowsathim.
“You’reinsane.”
“Iknow,”Ismilebackbrightly.“I’maredhead.Notakesiesbacksies,Eaton.Acoupleofhoursagoyouwerefinewithmegettingonayoungsterandnowyou’renot?”
“Ichangedmymind.Myranch.Myrules.It’spossibleyoudon’trideallthatwellanyway.Plus,youneedtobeinonepiecetotakeLuketothatkid’sbirthdaypartytoday.”
Iquirkabrowathim.Dick.Ishetryingtobringoutmycompetitiveside?Leaningclose,Iwhisperinhisear,“Idareyoutoletmesitonthatone.”Ipointattheleggyyoungsterstandinginthemiddleoftheroundpen,givingthefoul-mouthedcowboytotalstinkeye.
“Thatoneisrank.I’mpullingyousomethinggood-natured,”hesays,walkingawaywithhishorseinhand,Lukefollowingtoseetheothers.Likehischoiceisfinal.
Theremustbeatleasttenhorsesinthatpen,butit’sthesorrelhorseintheroundpenthathasmyattention.Theonewhochuckedthatcowboygoodandhard.
Ifeelkindredwiththatone,andIdidn’twearmyjeansandpaddockbootsinthemiddleofsummersoIcouldstandaroundinthesun,sweating.
WhileCade’sbackisturned,Imarchintheoppositedirectionandduckunderthefencepostoftheroundpen.Ifeeleyesonme,butthemensaynothingtostopme.
TheymustbesmarterthanCade.
Thelittlehorse’snostrilsflarewitheachbreath,waryeyeslookingaroundalittle.Buthonestly,I’mnotworried.Iridewell.IknowIdo.Ihaven’tbeenhandedeasyhorsesmyentirelife.Ihaven’thadgroomsandtrainersdothedirtyworkwhileIsatonthesidelines.Igrewupwithmoremoneythanmostoftheothergirlsatmybarn,andyetIwasalwaystheonethathadtoworkforthings.
Mydadoftenjokedthatnoneofthemoneywasmine.Itwashis,andhewasn’tgoingtospoilmewithit.
Bothmyparentsvalueagoodworkethic.Hardworkandmakingsomethingofyourselfarewhattheyvaluemost.Theyneverforcedmybrotherormeintopost-secondaryeducations.Theyfollowedourleads,andwhileIthoughtitwasunfairatayoungerage,Igetitnow.Igetnotbankrollingyourchildren’slives.Igetnotmicromanagingtheirchoices
AndI’mgladtheyhaven’t.However,I’dhavetakenalittlemorepressure.
MaybeIwouldn’tbeadirectionlessbartenderiftheyhadsetmoreexpectations.Who’stosay?
Withthatinmind,Itakethereinsandslideahandovertheyounghorse’sshoulder.
“Bossisgonnakillya,”onecowboymuttersfromtheoppositesideofthefencepanel.
Ijustsmiletomyself.
No,he’snot.CadeEatonisoutofhisdepthwithme.
Ipushmyhandintothestirrup,shiftingthesaddleacrossthehorse’sback,watchingherearsflickbackandforth.“Easy,baby,”Imurmur.
Herheadinclinestowardmeslightly,bigroundeyeassessingme.Idecideshelikesme.Idecideshe’ssmart.
Theseguysallthinkthey’retoughandcanoutmuscleahorse,butthey’rewrong.
Iputmyfootintothestirrupbeforepressingdown,andshestilldoesn’tmove.
“Red,don’tyoufuckingdare.”
Ishakemyhead,butdon’tlookbehindmeatCade.He’sonlysortofmyboss.
Hedoesn’tfeelmuchlikeabosslately.AndI’mdifficulttobossaroundatthebestoftimes—askmydickheadbrother.
Withonedeepbreath,Iswingalegoverthefilly’snarrowback,sinkinggentlyintothesaddle.
“Woman.”
Isnort.Cadejustwomanedme.Iwanttolaugh,butIcanfeelthehorse’sbackcurledupbeneathme.
She’sstandingstill—butnotforlong.She’scoilingallthatenergytogostraightup,soIopenonereinwide,turningherheadintowardmylegandgiveherafirmkickbeforeshecanbunchupanyfurther.
Instantly,she’shoppingandkicking,butIsqueezemythighsanddropmyheels,keepingherinatightcirclesoshecan’texplode.
“Whatagoodbaby,”Icooather,eventhoughshe’stossingherselfaroundlikeatotalfool.Butnotenoughtoloosenmeoffher.Irefusetofailinfrontoftheseguys.IespeciallyrefusetofailinfrontofCade.
He’llbeallannoyingandItoldyousoaboutitandmyegohonestlycan’thandlethattypeofblowwherehe’sconcerned.
Iurgethefillyforward,drivingwithmyseat,tosendthatmomentumaheadofusratherthanupintheair.Andinunderaminute,she’sdroppedtheshenanigansandiscanteringaroundtheroundpen.
It’snotpretty,butit’snotabroncshoweither.Ihearthehootsandhollersoftheguysaroundme—thewhistlesandthe“yeehaws”—butIkeephergoing,lettinghertireherselfout.Lettingherrununtilshesettlesanddropsherhead.
IttakesmyalltonotturntoCadeandstickmytongueoutathim.
You’retwenty-five,you’retwenty-five,you’retwenty-five
Heturnsmeintoanidiot.Abold,drooling,showboatingidiot.He’sachallengeandlookatme—Iloveachallenge.
Eventuallythefillybreakstoatrot,andthenawalk,andIreachforwardtorunahanduphersweatyneck.
“Notbad,citygirl!”Oneoftheguyscallsout,andIpeekup,grinninginhisgeneraldirection,beforehoppingoff.
“Betterthananyofyoufuckin’dress-upcowboysmanaged,”Cadebitesout,seethingfrombeneathhiscowboyhat.
Helookspissed,andtheflutterinmystomachathowimposingheishasmewishinghe’dtakesomeofthatfrustrationoutonme.
“I’mgonnaridelikeWillawhenIgrowup!”Lukehasclimbeduptothetoppanelofthefenceandleansover,eyesglowingwithexcitement.“Shemadethatfillyherbitch!”
“Luke!”IsayrightasCadebarks,“LucasEaton.”
Thelittleboy’seyeswidenashedropsoffthefence,likeheknowshe’ssteppedinitnow.Hetakesoffintothebarn,tinycowboybootsthumpingagainstthedirtroad,withoutabackwardglance.
“Youtaughthimthat.”CadepointsatmeasIleadthefillyovertooneoftheguys.
“Yeah?”IquirkabrowandheadtowardthemanIstartedoutnotlikingbutwhoInowcan’tstopthinkingabout.
Fantasizingabout.
Frommysideofthefence,Ileanclose,droppingmyvoice.“I’mprettysureofthetwoofus,you’retheonewiththefilthymouth,Cade.”
Hishandshootsbetweenthemetalpanels,fingershookingthroughmybeltlooptoholdmestill.Tokeepmethere,ashebreathesdownontome.Thewhooshofeachexhalecaressesmycheek.“Youhavenofuckin’idea,Red.”
Withonelittletugonmyjeans,hejostlesmeandthenstepsaway,spinningonehandupabovehisshouldersandshoutingattheguys.“Let’sgoassholes.Breaktimeisover.You’vebeenshownupbyaprissycitygirl.NowprovetomeIshouldn’tfireyouruselessasses.”
Isnort.Themanreallyhasapoeticwaywithwords.
AsIscootthroughthefencenearthebarnwhereIsawLukerun,onemanexclaimstowardmyretreatingform,“Godfuckin’damn.Theviewoutherehasneverbeensogood.”
Mylipsquirk,andIturntogivehimawink,butwithtwoeasystepsCade’sarmdartsoutandshoveshimoffthetopofthefencewherehe’dbeensitting.Thecowboylandsonhiskneeswithaloudbarkofdisbelievinglaughter.
Cade’snotlaughingthough.“Eyesonthedirtifyouplantokeepyourjob,cowboy.”
Ijustturnawayandsmiletomyself,becauseCadeisseething.It’salmostlikehe’sjealous.
AndIthinkIlikethat.14Cade
Willa:Panties?Check.Bra?Nocheck.
Cade:You’regoingtoachildren’sbirthdayparty.Tryagain.
Willa:Right.Letmetryagain.
Willa:Panties?Nocheck.Bra?Alsonocheck.
Cade:Thetownistalkingaboutyouenoughasitis.
Willa:Oooh.Whataretheysaying?
Cade:Thatyourpantylinesareverydefined.
Willa:Mygod.Didyoujustmakeajoke?
Cade:I’llbethereat6tonight.Pleasedon’tembarrassme.
Willa:Ohboy.Isthatachallenge?
Cade:Bye,Red.
Willa:IdothiswithLukewhenhebehavesbadlytoo.Justignorehim.Idon’tthinkit’sgoingtoworkonmethough.
***
Ipullupinfrontofthesizeablenewlybuilthousewherethebirthdaypartyisbeinghosted.Truthfully,Ihatethisshit.
Showingupatkids’birthdaypartiesasasingledadinasmalltownfeelslikebeinglockedinacagefullofhungrylions.
Orisitcougars?
Ishakemyhead,steppingoutofmytruck.Dropletsofwaterraindownthebackofmyneck,becauseIrushedoutoftheshowertogetheresoWillawouldn’tbestuckinthecougardenbyherself.
I’mnotoblivioustohowsnoopyandpushypeopleinthistowncanbe.Especiallyaroundmyfamily,whothey’vealwaystreatedalittlelikeroyalty.Liketickswhocrawlupoutoftheshrubstocatcharide.
Taliahappenedonceandthatwillneverhappenagain.
Isnagacapfromthebackseatandfitittomyheadbeforespinningthebrimtotheback.
Thehappysquealsofchildrenandthesoundofsplashingwaterdrawmearoundthesideofthehouse.Ireachoverthewoodengateandpullonthehiddenstring.
Cityfolks.
It’sliketheythinknooneknowsthisstringisthere.
Istepintotheheavilylandscapedbackyard,takinginthein-groundpoolandtheparentsmillingaroundwhilechildrenrunaroundintheirswimsuits.
Butit’sthesightofLukecryinginsoakedclotheswhileWillacrouchesinfrontofhim,rubbingathisarmsatthepoolsidethatgetsmyheartpumping.
Thekidputsupagoodfront.Heplaysittough.Butrightnow,he’sborderlineinconsolable.
IcanseethetensioninWilla’sbody,theheartbreakinhereyes.Anditmakesmelikeherevenmore.Shedoesn’tcareabouttherestofthepartybuzzingaroundher.She’sonlygoteyesformyson.
Andwhenshepullshiminforahug,soakingherselfintheprocess,Imelt.
Lukewhisperssomethinginherearandpointsatanotherkid.Ishouldrecognizethesekidsandparents,butIusuallypawnthisshitoffonmydad.
ForcedsocializationwithadultsIdon’tlikeisitsownspecialbrandoftorture,andIguesstherearelimitstowhatI’lldoformykid.
Willastandsandglancesoverhershoulderattheboysuckingonalollipop,standingwithhisbacktoher.Ithinkhe’sthebirthdaykid,butI’mnotentirelysure.Hismom,whosenameIalsoforget,isstandingwithtwoothermomschatting.
AquickglancebackatWillahasmewalkingacrossthegrass,becauseherexpressionispurefire.Rhetttoldmeshewasloyal,andIrecognizethatlookonherface.BecausewhensomeoneshitsonapersonIcareabout,Imakeittoo.
Injustafewstrides,Willaisbentoverbythebirthdayboy,whostaresupatherandlaughswithalittleshit-eatinggrinonhisface.
“Excuseme!”hismomtrills,herwhitewinespritzerswirlingintheglass.
Willaisn’ttouchingthekid,butshe’srightinhisface,andIcanseeherlipsmovingslowlylikeshe’scarefullyenunciatingherwords.
“Didyouhearme?Stoptalkingtohim!”
“Somebodyneedstoexplainrightfromwrongintermshecanunderstand,”Willasaysoverhershouldertothered-cheekedmom.“OrdidyoumissthepartwherehepushedLukeintothepoolandheldhisheadunderwater?”
“Itwasajoke!You’reoutofline,andyouwillnotspeakanotherwordtohim.”
Luke’stear-stainedfacetellsmehewasn’tinonthejoke.
Willarisesslowly,almostpredatoryinhermovements,assheturnsandarchesabrowatthewoman.“Oh,no?”
“Notanotherword.”
“Fine.”Willasmilesbutit’sascarysmile.Andthen,withonewell-placedhipcheck,thebirthdayboygoesflyingintothewater.
“Sebastian!”Hismother’sspritzersloshesonherhandassherushesforward.
Lukeissuitablyshocked.Themom’smouthismoving,butnosoundiscomingout,justlikewhenyoupullatroutfromthelake.
Willacrouchesatthepool’sedge,smirkingattheboy,whoisalreadystandingintheshallowwater,angrilywipinghiseyes.“Lifelesson,shithead.Carefulwhoyoupickafightwith.Someoneinsanemightlovethem.”
“Youneedtoleave!Now!”Themompointstowardthegate,andherarmshakeswithfury.
I’malmosttothem,butthesightofWillaknockingakidintothepoolstoppedmeinmytracks.
Shereallyisinsane.
Possiblyinthebestway.
“Gladly.”Shestands,brushingherhands.“Contactaprofessionalifhestartskillingbunniesorsomething.”
“Willa,”Ibark,backinmotionnow.
“Oh,good,”themomsays.“Arealparentishere.”
Ishouldknowhernameforthenumberoftimesshe’striedtochatmeupatthegrocerystoreorschoolpickup,butIdon’t,soItakeaguessatwhatsoundscloseandprayI’mright.“Hi,Bunny.”
Sheblinksatme.“It’sBetty.”
Shouldhaveprayedharder,Iguess.“Oh,sorry.Mymistake.Slipofthetongue.Isthereaproblem?”
“Yes.Yournannyistheproblem.”
Idon’tappreciatethecondescendingwayshesaysnanny,soIofferback,“Willaisafriend,actually.”
Willablinks.Bettyblinks.LukewalksupandwrapshisarmsaroundWilla’swaist,whiletheshitheadkidpullshimselfoutofthepool,lookingsuitablychastised.
“Shepushedmysonintothepool.”
“Itripped.”Willasmirks,wrappingaprotectivearmaroundLuke’ssmallbody.
Betty’sblueeyesnarrow,andhervoiceisshrillwhenshestompsherfootandsortofsqueals,“Leave!”
“Let’sallbepolitehere.”IgiveBettyapointedlookbeforeWillagoesevenfurther.
“Ofcourse.Thankyousomuchforhavingme,Bunny.”WillawinksbeforeturningtoLuke.“I’llseeyoubackathome,buddy.”
Home.
Shesaysitsoeasily.Likeit’strue.Thatourhomeisherhome.ShealsosaidshelovesLuke,andIdon’tknowwhattomakeofthat.
Ishouldbemorepissedatsomeoneaboutsomethingrightnow,butI’maltogethertoobusytryingtowrapmyheadaroundthefirecrackerinfrontofme.
“No!Iwanttogowithyou.”IwatchLuke’sknucklesturnwhitewherehegripsatherclothes,practicallyclingingtoher,tearsstillshimmeringonhispudgylittlecheeks.
Iturn,squeezingonehandonWilla’sslendershoulderwhilerunningtheotheroverLuke’shair.Ibenddownandpressakisstothecrownofhishead.
WhenIstraighten,Willa’sconfidentairhasmeltedaway.Shehasapinchedforehead,andhereyesarealittleglassy.Hervoiceishushedandcrackswhenshesays,“Thatkidheldhimunderwater.”Herblinksturnrapid.“Ihadtopullhimout.Andtheyalljustlaughedlikeitwasafunnyprank.”
Thepapabearinmeroarsatthestoryshe’srecounting.Myprotectiveside.TheoneI’vebeenhoningfordecades.Islidemyhanduptothesideofherneck,rubbingathumboverthepulsepointthere,asIholdherbrightgreengazewithmyown.“Go.I’llmeetyoubackathome.Igotthis.”
Herheadtiltseversoslightlyintomytouch.Andthenshenods.
IwatchforafewbeatsasshedepartswithLukeleanedintoherasifshe’sthemostcomfortingthingintheworld.Iabsentlywonderhowhe’llhandleherleavingwhenschoolstartsback.
Poorly,probably.
IwonderhowI’llhandleherleavingnextmonth.
JustaspoorlyIbet.
“ThatWillacharacterneedsaleash,”themomsniffsfrombehindme.
MychestpuffsupwhenIturnmyattentiononthebottleblondeacrossfromme.“Betty,IliketothinkI’magentleman,butI’monlygoingtotellyouonce.Keephernameoutofyourmouthifyou’regoingtousethattone.Let’stalkaboutyourkidinstead.”
Onemanicuredhandfallsacrossherchest,andsherearsback,likeshe’stotallyscandalized.
Joke’sonBetty.
I’mjustgettingstartedhere.
Willamightdrivemeinsane.Shemightdeservealittlepushback.ButifBettythinksshe’sgoingtobetheonetopushbackather,she’sgotanotherthingcoming.
Willamightbeabitofpsycho—afterall,shedidjustpushachildintothepool—butthemoretimeIspendwithher,themoreIfeellikeshe’smypsycho.
***
WhenIgethome,thehouseisempty,whichsuitsmefinebecauseIwalktothekitchen,pulloutmyfavoritebottleofbourbon,andtakeadeepswigbeforeputtingitbackinthecupboardandproppingmypalmsagainstthecounter.
I’llfindWillaandLukeaftercatchingmybreathandsortingmythoughts.
Headfallinglow,ItrytoshakeoffthementalimageofLukestrugglingunderwater.
IkeptmyconversationwithBettyfairlycontained.It’sasmalltown,andthereareonlysomanybridgesyoucanburn.Everyonewilltalkaboutthisanyway.ParticularlywiththewayWillawentoff.
Ishakemyheadatthememory.Thewayshe’dcalledherBunnyevenafterBettycorrectedme.Thegirlhasarealpaironher—I’llgiveherthat.Especiallyafterwatchingheronthatfillythismorning.
Thesoundofdelightedgigglesdrawsmyattentionouttheopenkitchenwindowtowardthebackhayfieldwherethefirstcutbalesarestacked.WhenIseeaflashofcopperhair,Iknowtheymustbeoutthere.
Playing.Laughing.Iletmyeyesfluttershutandlistentothem.
“Readyornot!HereIcome!”Lukeshoutsbreathlessly.
It’sperfect.
Ismiletomyselfandthenopenmyeyes,knowingtheonlyplaceIwanttoberightnowisoutinthefieldwiththem—evenifIamdeadonmyfeetafterworkingalldayanddealingwithsmall-town-momdrama.
Withinminutes,I’msteppingintothehugemaze-likestructuremadeofbigroundbales,thedarkpassagewaysbetweenthemalmosttoonarrowformetopassthrough.
“Icanhearyougiggling,youlittlegoose.”
“Agoose?”heshouts.
“Asillygoose!”shecalls,voicebacktothelightsingsongversionIfirstnoticed,alltracesoftheearlieranxietygone.
IrunintoLukefirstashehuntsWilladownwithaseriousexpressiononhisface.Heinstantlyholdsafingeroverhismouth,signalingmetobequiet,likehedidn’tjusttotallybroadcasthislocationbycallingouttoher.
Crouchingdown,Ipullhimintoaquickhug,needingtofeelhim—thebeatofhisheart,thelittlewhooshofhisbreath,hischubbycheekagainstmystubbledone.
“Iloveyou,buddy,”Iraspout,feelingemotional.
“Iloveyoutoo,Dad.”Hepatsmyback.“Butyou’regoingtomakemelose.”
Ichuckle.I’msureWillaknowswhereheis.Whathedoesn’tknowishe’sonlygoingtocatchherifshewantshimto.
ItseemscrazythatIeverthoughtshewouldn’tbeabletokeephimsafe,andnowshe’sdonenothingbut.Sure,hisnanniesandbabysittersalwayswatchedhim,butIdon’tknowifthey’dhavegonetobatforhimthewayWilladidtoday.
ThewayIwouldhaveinthatsamesituation.
“I’llgothatway,seeifwecantrackherdowntogether.Divideandconquer.”
Hebobshishead.“Yeah.Yeah.That’sagoodplan.”
Igivehishairaquickmuss,pressingonemorekisstohisheadbeforeheturnsanddartsaway.Iknowweneedtotalkaboutwhathappenedtoday,butnow’snotthemoment.I’msureitwillallcomeoutwhenIliedownwithhimatbedtime.
Iturnintothebales,headingintheoppositedirection,thedrypointsofstraypiecesscratchingatmyarmsasImoveintowardthecenterofthestructuresearchingforWilla.
Ihearthedullthumpofsmallfeetaroundme,Lukewindinghiswayupanddowntherows.Everysensefeelselevatedinhere,thehayprovidingasortofsoundproofing,aprivacy.Thewallsofitpressinaroundme.Itsmellscomforting.
Itsmellslikenostalgia.I’mtakenbacktodayswhenBeauandIwouldchaseRhettandourlittlesisterVioletthroughhere.Samefieldandeverything.
Tomyright,Iseeaflash.Daylightblockedoutforamomentbeforeitshinesthroughagain.Iturnandfollow,knowingI’vegothernow.
MystrideslengthenasIveerright,catchingsightofhercreepingalongcarefully.
“Red,”Iwhisper-shout.
Herheadflipsinmydirection,hereyestwinkling.Because,ifnothingelse,WillaGrantisashitdisturber,waltzingintomylifeandcomplicatingitwithouteventrying.Lookingallpleasedwithherselfoverit.
Withawinkoverhershoulder,sheshootsoff,runningfromme.
Andsomethingprimalinmeroarstolife.
Ichaseher.
Lukeiswayoverontheothersideofthebales,andwhileIwouldn’tsaythatI’veforgottenabouthim,it’sWillawhohasmyfullattentionrightnow.
IjogasbestIcaninthecrampedspace,mymindlaser-focused.AllIseeisher,andallIhearisbloodpumpinginmyears.
Sheveersagain,andIhearasmall,gaspedgigglewhensheglancesoverhershoulderandseesthatI’vegainedonher.
OneturnlefthasherheadinginLuke’sdirection.AndwhileItoldhimIwasgoingtohelphimcatchher,thetruthis…Iwanthertomyselfforamoment.
Ican’texplainit.It’sinstinct.
Myarmextendsinfrontofme,andmyfingerswraparoundherdelicatewrist,clampingdownandyankingherbacktomebeforeshecancrosspathswithmykidandputastoptothisdangerousgameofcatandmouseweseemtobeplaying.
Airwhooshesoutofherlungsasshestumblesbackintome,shoulderbladesthumpingagainstmychest.
“JesusChrist.”Shechuckles,notmovingawayfrommybody.Infact,sheleansintome,glancingoverhershoulder.“Relax,daddy.It’sjustakid’sgame.”
Iturn,pullingherbackintowardthecenterofthemaze.“Runningprettyhardforawomanplayingakid’sgame,Red.”
Shelaughs,nottakingmeseriously—intypicalfashion.
“Andstopcallingmethat.”
“Why?”sheasksbreathlesslyasIturnacornerbeforepressingmybackintothehay,givingheratugthathasherstumblingintomychest.
Shecatchesherselfbysplayingonehandonmypec.Webothlookdown,transfixedbywhereshe’smadecontact.Myshirtmightaswellnotbetherebecauseitfeelslikeshe’stouchingmybareskin.
Mycocktwitches,clearlynotdifferentiatingatall.
“BecauseIdon’tlikeit,”Ibiteout.Thenicknamemakesmefeelcreepy.
Thatjustmakeshersmirk.“ButI’mprettysureyou’reabouttoscoldmelikeone.”
MybrowfurrowsasIraisemychintogetlostinheremeraldeyes.“Scoldyou?”
Hereyesroll.“Look,IknowIshouldn’thaveknockedthatkidintothewater,butIwasreallymad.Hewasjustsomean.Andnotaccidentally.Igotpickedonlikethatasakidanditwasalwaysmybrotherwhosteppedinandsavedme.ButLukedoesn’thaveabigbrothertokicksomeone’sassforhim,andIjust…snapped.”
Isoakinthewomanbeforeme,afuckingknockout.“Whydidyougetpickedon?”
“I’llshowyoupicturessometime.Tallerandskinnierthaneveryone.Bigbuckteeth.Crazyredhair.CanIblameassaultingaseven-year-oldonmyhaircolor?I’vealwaysflownoffthehandlekindofeasily.Orlike”—herlipsrolltogether—“Idon’tgetmadeasy,butwhenIdoit’sreally,reallybad.AndBunnysucks.Eye-fuckingyoulikethatatachild’sparty.”
Iblinkather,franticallyexplainingherselflikeshe’sintroublewithmewhenshe’snot.Theonlypeopleintroublearetheassholeswhopickedonher.Idon’tcareifit’sbeenadecade.IwantnamesandaddressessoIcansetthemstraight.
Shecarrieson,oblivioustothewayI’mlookingatherandthehard-ongrowinginmypants.Oblivioustothewayherfingersabsentlystrokemychest.
“Iknowthere’sthiswholeweird,small-townvibehappeningwhereeveryoneknowseveryoneelse’sbusiness.Andthatbottle-blondebitchwasspittingmad.IimagineI’dbemadifIfoundoutmykidwasaraginglosertoo.ButIdon’treallycarewhatshethinksofme,youknow?Soifyouneedtoblameitonmetosavefaceasthetown’sgrumpyprince,that’sfine.Iwon’tholditagainstyou.”
Ijuststareather.ShemustthinkI’marealdickifshe’sassumingIwouldn’tcometoherdefenseonthis.
Hertonguedartsoutoverherlips,wettingthefullbottomoneandmakingitshimmerinawaythatIcan’tpeelmyeyesawayfrom.
“God.Whydoyouhavetowearabackwardcaptoo?”Hervoiceissofternow.Raspier.Breathier.
Iswearshe’sleaningcloser.
“What?”She’saconfusingwoman,talkingamileaminute.We’vegonefromascoldingtoteenagedtraumatosmall-towndramatomyhatinunderaminute.
Shereallyiskindofinsane.
“Thecowboyhat.”Shegroansandletshereyesrollbackinherhead.“Issogood.Imean,IfeellikeI’mlivinginsomemade-for-TVmoviewithahotcowboy.Butthenyoucleanupandstyleyourhair,andyougivethesehot,debonairolder-manvibes.”
I’msoconfused.
“Sorry?”
Herfingerscurlintothefabricofmyshirt,andIfeelthescrapeofhernailsagainstmychest.Ilovethewayitlooks;herpaleskingrippingattheblackfabric.Iimaginelyingherdowninmybed,gettinglostbetweenherprettymilkythighs,andmakinghercomesohardthatherfingerscurlinthesameway.
“Butthen,yougoandturnacapbackwardandgivemethefullrough-around-the-edgescountry-boyexperience.Doyouknowhowhotthatis?Ican’tevenexplainit.”Shelaughslightly,likeshedidn’tjustsaysomethingthatbroadsidedme.“Hatforward.Cute.”Herfreehandmimicsgrabbingthebrimofacapandturningitbackward.“Hatbackward?Gameon.It’slikeaswitch.”
Ishakemyheadather,watchingtheblushinhercheeks,thefireinhereyes.Thetraceofshynessonherface.
“Well,thatwasaltogethertoomuchinformation.Thebackwardcapismeltingmybraincells.Gottago!”Shestartlesmewhenshepushesawayandrunsdownthecompressedpath.IhearLuke’svoicetauntingher,buthesoundsfar-offstill.Herstridescoverthegroundbutnotthewayminedo.Theurgetochaseherandholdherdownconsumesme.Ithasmefeelingwildanduntethered.
Whichiswhywithonesharpturn,Icaptureherarmatherelbowandpushheragainstthepricklyhay.Pressingherintoitfirmly,myhipslinedupwithhers.Myhardcockagainstherflatstomach.
“Gameon?”Iraspout,asallmyreservationsabouttouchingthenannyflyoutthegoddamnwindow.Idon’tneedthem—definitelydon’twantthem.Notwiththewayshe’sstaringatmerightnow,eyesfixedonmylipswhileIgripherelbowandpropanotherhandagainstthewallofhaybehindher.
Herlipisstillwetwhenshewhispers,“Gameon.”
Iwanttoshoveherbackanddevourher—leaveherstrugglingtobreathe—butIholdthatsideofmyselfback.
Becausemorethanthat,Iwanttothankher.
Iwanttothankherinawaythatmywordswon’tletme,soratherthanmaulingherlikeateenager,Itakearaggedbreathandletmyselfdrinkherinforamoment.Theperttipofhernose.Thethickfringeofherlashes.Theheartbeatinhertemple,justinfrontofwherethatbeautifulcopperhairstarts.
Ireleaseherarmandtrailmyknucklesoverherskin,startingathershoulder,slowlydraggingthemdowntoherwrist.I’mfascinatedbythesprayofgoosebumpsthatcropupinthewakeofmytouch.
Myfingersslidebetweenhers,herpalmfittingsoperfectlyinmine.
“Idon’tknowthisgame,”shewhispers,andIdropmyhandfromaboveherhead,pressingintoherbodywiththefulllengthofmine.Myfreehandslidesintoherhair,andIwatchasIslowlycombthroughthestrands,theburnishedtoneofitmatchingmytannedskinsowell.
“Meneither,Red.”Myeyesstaygluedtoherhair.Truthfully,Idon’tknowwhatthefuckI’mdoing.AllIknowisthatIwanttosavorthis.
Savorher.
BecauseIhaveasinkingfeelingthatwhenwestepoutofthesebales,thingswilllookalotdifferent.Thedusty,grassysmellwilldriftaway,andrealitywillseepbackin.
TherealitywhereIknowbetterthantogoafteragirllikeWillaGrant.
ArealitywhereI’mstilltoofuckingwoundedtotrustsomeone.
“Areyougonnamakeamove,Eaton?Orjuststandherepettingme?”
MyheadshakesandmychestrumblesasIchancealookathereyes.Clearandcertain,sobright.
IfeelsafewhenI’mscowling,butit’sgettingharderandhardertolookatWillaGrantwithoutsmiling.
It’swithasmileonmylipsthatIleaninandpressmymouthtohers.She’ssoftandwilling.Shepartsformewithsuchease.Welcomesthekiss.
Takesme.
WhenIgroan,shewhimpersintomymouth,andIswallowhersweetlittlesounds.Wantingtokeepthemformyself,memorizethemforarainyday.
It’sbeenyearssinceI’vebeentouchedlikethis,andmychestcracksopenatthefeel.Thecontact.Thecloseness.Theintimacy.Handsslidingupovermychest,pressingupovermyneckbeforegrippingeithersideofmyskull.Daintyfingertipsbehindmyears.
Ididn’tevenrealizehowbadlyImissedtheattentionofawoman.Andnotjustanywoman.ThewomanI’vegluedmyattentiontofromthemomentIsawher.
Thewomanwho’sthawedmyicyheartinamatterofweeks.
Heartless.That’swhatTaliacalledmeinherletter.AndIbelievedher.
Istilldo.
Butit’shardtodenythefeelinginmychestrightnow.Theache.Theheat.
It’sespeciallyhardtodenythebulgeinmypants.TheoneI’mgrindingagainstWilla.
Thatpartdoeshavemefeelinglikeateenager.
Shemoans,hikingalegupatmywaist,openingherselftorubbackagainstme,andItakethatopportunitytoswipemytongueintohermouth,toshapemyfingersintoafistinherhair.
Togowiththeintensityofthemoment,eventhoughIthoughtIcouldkeepitsweetandslow.That’sthethingaboutWilla.Shedoesn’tstrikemeasthesweetandslowtypeofgirl.
EverytimeIdrawaway,shepushesharder.EverytimeIglareather,sheprods,hopingforareaction.Andnowshe’sgettingit.
“Willa—”
“Don’tstop.”Ourteethclashasshetalksagainstmymouth.Whatstartedoffreverentlyisquicklyturningfrantic.Awell-craftedfacadecomingapartateveryseam.
Itakeahandfulofherroundass,squeezinghard,beforepickingherrightupandpullinghertonedlegsaroundmesoIcanrutintothedenimcoveringherpussylikethesex-starvedcavemanIam.
“Yes,”shehisseswhenmyfingerstrailoverthetornhemofhershorts.
Shesmellslikeorangesandwarmgrass,refreshingandcomfortingallatonce.Shefeelslikeheaveninmyhands.AndshelooksjustaswildasI’vealwaysknownsheis.
Butthere’ssomethingaboutseeingherwildforme—givinginforme—thatmakesmefeelmoredesiredthanIhavein,well,ever.
“Don’tstop.”HerhipsswivelagainstmineasmyfingersinchdangerouslyclosetowhereImightfindoutifshe’sactuallywearingpanties.
Iimagineinspectinghereverymorning.Bendingheroverthekitchencounter.Flippingupsomeflimsysundressthat’sjusthersilentwayofbeggingmetofuckher.
“You’redesperateforit,aren’tyou?”Ihuskagainstherear,lostinthedaydream.
Mytongueglidesagainsthers,gentlyprobinghermouth.ThesamewayI’dslideafingerintoherslickpussy.
ShewhimpersthewayshewouldwhenIaddasecondfinger.Andthenathird.
“Fuck,”shehumsagainstmylips,becausemyhandsaremovingoftheirownfruition,fistingherhairandplumpingonefullbreast.
It’salltooreal.Toomuch.
Toofuckingeasytoimagine.
BythetimeIrealizehowfardownintothisfantasyI’vedisappeared,I’mthrobbinginmypants.Leakinginmypants.
Likeateenager.
Heatshootsthroughmygroin,andIbitebackanysignofwhatjusthappened.Willaisclueless,stillsoftanddesperateinmyhands.
AndclearlymorethanIcanhandle,whichiswhyIstepawaypanting.Needingsomespace.Needingtohidefrommyskyrocketinglevelsofintensehumiliation.
“I’msorry.Ishouldn’thavedonethat,”iswhatIcomeupwith.Adouchebagthingtosay,nodoubt.Butit’salltoomuchinthismoment.
Ineedmysolitude,andIneedtogetawayfromWilla.Becausestaringatherallmussed,lipsallpuffyandpink,matchingthestainonhercheekswhileherfullchestheavesandhereyesgoglassyandwide,hasmehardeningagain.
Iturnandstrideaway,hopingtogetagrasponmydignitysomewherebetweenthehaybalesandthebackdoorofmyhouse.
Yeah,Irun.
Likeafuckingteenager.15Willa
Summer:Comefordinnertonight.Bringtheboys!
Willa:IcanpromiseLukeandIwillbethere.
Summer:WhataboutCade?
Willa:Whoknows?
Summer:Troubleinparadise?Didyoubanghim?
Willa:Iwish.Hebarelyevenlooksatme.
Summer:Flashhim.
Willa:I’vetried.He’stoomature.Hejustrollshiseyesandwalksaway.
Summer:Wait.Didyoureallyflashhim?
***
“Whydoyoukeeplookingoverthere?”
“Overwhere?”Ireply,reallysuckingatplayingstupid.
“Attheguys?”Summer’sbigbrowneyesarescanningmyfacelikeI’mabarcodethatshecaneasilyread.Bitchdoesn’tmissabeat.
“Justkeepingtrackoftheboccescore.Makingsurenoonecheats.”
We’reatSummerandRhett’shouseafteranotherfamilydinner.Apparently,HarveyisdrivingacrossthecountrywithBeaubacktowhereverhedeploysfrom—accordingtoCade,thisissomethingtheirdaddoeseverytime.
Idon’tknowBeauwell,butIcan’timaginepackingLukeuptogodowhathedoesoverandoveragain.
“Bulllllllllshit.”Summercacklesandleansbackinherchair,sippingdaintilyatherglassofwhitewinewiththegoldensunshiningbehindher.
Nothinggetspasther.SheknowsdamnwellI’msittingherecheckingoutCadelikeit’smylastmomentonearth.Eversincethatgoddamnkiss,thingshavebeenweirdbetweenus.Andnotthetypicalgrumpy-dick-modeweird.
“Wekissedandnoweverythingisweird,”Iblurt.SummerandIhavealwaystoldeachotherourdeepest,darkestsecrets.
“Youkissed!”
“Sum!Shh.Ifyouannounceitlikethat,theentiretownwillknow,andtheyalreadyhateme.LastthingIneedisthebitchbrigadetothinkI’mwaltzinginherestealingthetown’smosteligiblebachelor.”
“Hm.”WhenIpeekather,she’snoddingthoughtfully,barefeetproppedagainstanotherchair.“Figures.”
Irollmyeyesandtakealargeswigofmywine.“That’sall?I’malwaysfullofgoodadviceforyou,andIgetathoughtfulhumandsnarkyonewordshot?”
“I’mthinking.”
“Thinkfaster.”
Shechucklesandrollsherheadalongthebackofherchairtowardme.“Weirdhow?”
IsighandstareoutovertheexpansivebackyardatthebigwillowtreethatLukeandIfirsthungoutunder.Rhett,Cade,Jasper,andLukeareoutthereplayingbocce,throwingaroundballsandtossingbackbeers.
“Well,firsthestartedoffcrabby,thenhestartedcomingaroundabit.AndImean,okay,therewassomesexualtension—butitwasfriendlyenough.Wetalkedatdinnerorinthehottub.”
OneofSummer’sdarkeyebrowsarchesinmydirection.“Hottub?Whatisthis,highschool?Hasanyonetoldyouthatyoucangetpregnantinthere?”
“Shutup.Butnowhetalksingrunts.TheonlywayweconverseisviatextmessageorthePost-itnotesheleavesaroundthehouse.”
“HeleavesyouPost-itnotes?”Herlipspopopeninsurprise.
Ishrug.“Yeah.He’llwalkinwhenLukeandIarecleaningupaftermakingabatchofcookiesandsaynothingaboutit.JusttalktoLuke.Buttheninthemorninghe’llleaveanotebythecoffeethatsays,BestcookiesI’veeverhad.”
Summerlaughs.
“Summer!Stoplaughingandhelpme.Whatdoesthatmean?”
Herheadtipsback,andIcatchtheguysglancingupatus.“Itmeanshelovesyourcookies,Wils.”
Isnort.“Ofcourse.Mycookiesbringalltheboystotheyard.”
Summerlaughsharder,herwinesloshinginherglassasshedoes.“Hediditallforthecookie,”shewheezes.
“Goodlord.Canwepleasestopquotingawfulsongsandtalkaboutmyactualproblem?”
Shewipesatthetearsonhercheeksasshestraightens.“Okay.Okay.I’mhonestlystilljusttryingtowrapmyheadaroundthis.Didyoukisshim?Iknowyou’reforward.Didyoufreakhimout?He’svery…stern?”
“Waytotakehisside!”
Hereyesroll.“Therearenosides.Tellmemoreaboutthenotes.”
Isniffleandshootheradirtylook.“Surefeelslikeit.Oooh.PoorinnocentCadewhopushedmeupagainstahaybaleandkissedmestupid.”
Summerrollsahand,urgingmetogetoveritandtellhermore.
“Thingslike,Luketoldmeabouthisguitarlessontoday.Thankyou.Or,Pleasedon’tpaintthefrontporch.Idon’tknowhowtotakethatthough.”
“Youpaintedthefrontporch?”
Iscoff.Cadeissuchastickinthemudsometimes.“Weusedpainttoadddetailstothebanisters.Itlookscute.You’dswearIpaintedhisfrontstepBarbiepinkorsomething.”
SheeyesmelikewebothknowIshouldhavesaidnotoLuke’sidea.Butwhatever.Wecanpaintitover.It’snotlikewekilledsomeoneorthrewheadsoflettuceoutofmycar.
“Basically,hecomeshomeandwesilentlycooktogether.Weeatdinner,andhemostlytalkstoLuke,avoidslookingatme,says,Thanks,andthengetstoworkputtingLuketobed.Iassumehe’sexhaustedafterthatandpassesout.Truthfully,Idon’tknowhowhedoesit.It’swaytoomuchforonepersontohandleallontheirown.ButifIcookdinner,hegetsallcrabby.IfIclean,hegetscrabby.Oh!Whenhetoldmetostopdoinglaundrytheotherday,hesaidthatI’mjustthenanny,notthemaid.Sowhothehellknows?Thenheleftmeanoteonthedryerthatsaid,Thankyouforyourhelp.”
“It’sreallykindofsweet.Like…forCade?”
“Ugh.Isitthough?Hekissedmeandthenpulledawayandsaidheshouldn’thavedonethat.Heapologized.I’mtryingnottobeoffended.”
“Haveyoutriedtalkingtohim?”
Iblinkather.“Talking?”
“Yes.Youknow…whereyouuseyourmouthtocreatewordsthatdescribewhat’sgoingthroughyourhead.”
“Soundsweird.Soundsawkward.Don’tlikeit.Notapprovedbyme.”
Shegivesmeadisapprovinglook.Iimagineit’soneshe’lluseonherfuturechildren.
“Whycan’twejusthavesexforthenextlittlebitandthenhigh-fiveeachotherattheend?”
“AndspendtherestofyourlivesrunningintoeachotherbecauseofmeandRhett?”
Iturnmynoseup.“We’readults.I’mheadoverheelsforLuke.Doyouknowhowcoolthatkidis?It’llbefine.”
Summerstareswistfullyoutoverthefield,spinningtheengagementringonherfinger.“Adultswhowon’ttalktoeachother.”
ShesaysitkindlyenoughbutIknowit’sadig.AndIknowshe’sright.IknowIflybytheseatofmypantswithlittleregardforwhereI’mgoing.Planningstressesmeout.
That’swhygowiththeflowismymotto.
Toomanywaystofail.Toomanywaystofallshort.Andinafamilyofwildlysuccessfulpeople,I’dratherbetheflightywildcardthanthefailure.
“Youcomingtotherodeonextweekend?”Ichangethesubjectentirely,activelysidesteppingthethoughtsbubblingupinsideme.
Shenods.“Ofcourse.You?”
“Yeah.ItoldCadeI’dtakecareofLukethatday.We’llgowatchhim.”
“Workingtheweekends,huh?”
Ishrug.“SpendingtimewithLukedoesn’treallyfeellikework.”
Infact,itfeelslikethemostnaturalthingintheworld.
***
IshouldhaveknownwhenLukeasked,“Whatdoesitfeellikewhenyougetcarsick?”thatsomethingwaswrong.
Instead,IkeptbobbingmyheadtomyfavoriteBrokenBellssongandsaid,“Justlikenauseous,buddy.”
Wehadafundayatthesprayparkintown—ournewgo-tospotonhotdays.Hegetstoseeabunchoffriendsfromschool,andIgettomeanmugthepsychopathbirthdayboyandhismomwhowillforeverliveoninmyheadasBunny.
Theystayaway,lookingatmelikeI’manescapedconvict,whichworksjustfineforme.
IevenspendtimetogetherwithacoupleofmomsthatIactuallylike.Oneswithnicekidsandgoodsensesofhumor.IfeelrelievedthatnotallthemomsinthistownareBunnies.
ButI’mnotfeelingrelievedanymore.
BecauseLukejustsprayedvomitalloverthebackofmypassenger’ssideseat.
Ipulloveronthecountryroad.We’reonlyfiveminutesfromtheranch.Soclose,andyetsofaraway.AfterrunningaroundthefrontoftheJeep,Iwhipthebackpassenger’ssidedooropenandtakeinthebarf-coveredboybeforeme.
“Youokay,littleman?”
Hiseyesarewideandwatery.“I’msosorry,Willa.”
“Oh,sweetboy.Don’tbesorry.”
“Ibarfedinyourcar.”
“Itdoesn’tmatter.”Ireachforwardandrunahandthroughhiswethair.
“It’samess!”He’scryingnowandIwanttohughim,butweallhaveourlimits.I’vehandledmyfairshareofvomitasabartender,buthuggingabarf-coveredchildiswhereIdrawtheline.
Instead,Iunbucklehim,whiphisshirtoff,andthensqueezehimtome.Sobsrackhislittlebody.
“I-I’ms-s-sosorry!”He’swailingnow.
“Shh.Luke.Luke.It’sjustacar.Itdoesn’tmatter.You’rewhatmatters.Idon’tcareaboutthecar,babe.I’mmoreworriedaboutyou.”Ipullaway,lookingathim,tryinghardnottoglancedown.BecauseIknowthereisbarfonme.ThelastthingIneedtodoisstartheavingtoo.
Henodstearfullyatme.“Willa?”
“Yeah?”
“Youhavethrowuponyou.Icanstillseeastrawberry.”
IpopmylipsopenandopttomouthbreathesoIstopsmellingit,focusingonhiswideblueeyes.I’manadult,I’manadult,I’manadult.“That’sokay.Everythingcanbewashed.I’mgoingtobuckleyouinanddrivetherestoftheway.Ifyoufeellikeyouneedtobarfagain,justtellmeandI’llpulloverforyou.Gotit?”
Henods,lookingdetermined.
AndGodblesshisdeterminationbecausewestoptwicemoreonthewaybacktotheranch.
Thefirstthingwedoisstripdownoutside.Atleastallpiecesofbarfyclothes.Whichforhimiseverything,andformeisjustmytanktopovermybikini
Theshowerprovesachallengebecausehecan’tstopretching.
I’veneverfeltmorehelpless.I’veneverfelttearywatchingsomeonegetsick—usuallyI’mjustannoyed—butwatchinghislittlebodyheavesoviolentlyhasthebackofmythroatachingandmyeyeswatering.
He’sfinallyclean,seemsrelativelyempty,andjustlookstotallyexhaustedstandinginthemiddleofhisroom.
“Whenwillmydadbehome?”
Icheckmywatch.“Inaboutanhour.I’mgoingtocallhimandgetourclothesinthewash.Takeaquickshower.Howaboutyouliedown?”
Henods,standinginfrontofme,likehedoesn’tquiteknowwhattodowithhimself.“Iwanttosleepinmydad’sbed.”
“Yeah,ofcourse.”Iknowheoftensleepsthereontheweekends,butweekdaysaretoughbecauseCadewakesupsoearly.We’llfigureitoutlater.“Let’sgo.”IholdmyhandouttoLuke,buthejustnodsagain,clearlyoutofit.
Itouchhisforeheadanditfeelshot.Butmaybethat’sfromtheshower?Fuck,Idon’tknow.I’daskHarveyforhelp,butheisn’tbackyet.Rhettisontheroad.Summerisatwork.
IopttoscoopLukeup,proppinghischinonmyshoulder.HislittlearmswraparoundmyneckandmyarmsfoldunderhislegssothatI’mcarryinghimlikeakoala.
HesighswhenIpressakisstohishairwithouteventhinking.Idon’tknowwhat’sappropriateanymore.Iknowhe’snotmykid,buthefeelslikemineinsomelittleway.Hefeelslikemineenoughtocomforthimwhenhe’ssick.
Icarryhimdownthehall,tryingnottostressathowheavyhefeelsinmyarms.He’sjusttired.Hehasatummybug.Kidsgetsick.He’snotonhisdeathbed—oratleastthat’swhatIkeeptellingmyself.
InudgeCade’sdooropenwithmyfootandtakeinhisroom.Thedoorisalwaysclosed,andIfeellikeI’minvadinghisprivacy,butI’malsoinsanelycurious.Liketherestofthehouse,hisroomiswarmandairy,atotalcontrasttothemainhousewherehisdadlives.Thewallsareacreamyyellow,framedbybigcrownmoldingspaintedahigh-glosswhite.Theoakbedframeisstainedayellowishtone,andinmostcasesIwouldsayit’sdated—butsomethingaboutitworksinhere.Toppedwithacreamandnavyplaidduvetset,thespaceisstillmasculinewithoutbeingdark.
It’shonestlynotwhatIwasexpecting.
OnceIgentlyslideLukeontotheking-sizedbed,Ipeelbacktheduvetandtuckhimin.He’salreadyhalf-asleep,buthegroanswhenIfoldtheblanketintightaroundhim.
Peekingovermyshoulder,Iseethedoortoasmallensuitebathroom.Withafewstepsover,Ipushitopen,decidingthissetupisideal.
Thebathroomistightquarters,justatoiletandasinkandvanity.It’sclean,anditsmellslikeCade’ssignaturepinesmellmixedwithsomethingspicyandsweet.
Imomentarilywonderifitwouldbeweirdtojusthangoutinhereforafewminutes.
Asmallwhimperfromthebeddrawsmefrommythoughts.Iflipthetoiletseatup—marvelingatamanexistingwhoputsitdowninthefirstplace—andheadbackout.
BendingoveraslightlydeliriousLuke,Iwhisper,“Ifyoufeelsick,youjustgostraightintoyourdad’sbathroom,okay?”
Heoffersmeasmallnodwithoutopeninghiseyes,andIrunahandoverhisforehead.Stillhot.
“I’llbehereifyouneedanything.”ThenIpressanotherkisstohisfeverishtempleandpadsoftlyoutoftheroom,alreadyreachingformyphoneanddialingassoonasI’minthehallway.
“Red.”Cade’svoicehasabitetoittoday.I’msuresomepeoplewouldflinch,butIjustrollmyeyes.“Nowisn’tagreattime.”
“Okay,it’sjustthat—”
“Ifthisisaboutyourpanties,saveitforyourmorningtext.”
Dick.
“Lukeissick,sogetyourheadoutofyourassandtalktomeforonce.”
“Isheokay?”Histonechangesinstantly.
“Hethrewuponourwaybackfromadayatthespraypadintown.Andthenhethrewupalotmore.He’sclean.Hewantedtogoinyourbed,sohe’ssleepingthere.It’sclosetoatoilet,sothat’sabonus.ButIknowyouwakeupearlyforwork,soI’msorryaboutthattoo.I’mworriedhe’stoohot.Doyouhaveathermometer?WhatdoIdo?DoImakehimdrinksomething?I’mreallyworriedI’mfuckingthisup.Also,IkissedhimontheforeheadandI’mfeelinglikeIneedtotellyouthatbecauseIdon’tknowifthat’sokay.Iknowhe’snotmykid,buthejustseemedlikeheneededcomfortingand—”
“Willa,”hisvoiceissoftnow.
“Yeah?”
“Takeadeepbreath.”
“Idon’twantto.There’sbarfonmeanditsmellsterrible.”MyvoicecracksandIdon’tknowwhy.It’slikegettingeverythingoutofmybrainandsharingitwithCadehasmeallupinmyfeels.
“Everythingisokay.”Whoknewsuchasimplesentencecouldputmeateasesoinstantly.“Healwaysspikesasolidfeverwhenhegetssick.You’redoinggreat.We’reluckytohaveyouherehelpingus.Lukelovesyou.You’llnevercatchflackfrommeforcomfortinghim.”
“Okay.”ThewordscomeoutwateryandIblinkhard,tryingtoregainmycomposure.
“Here’swhatyou’regoingtodo.Areyoulistening?”
“Yes.”Isigh,alreadyfeelingrelievedathavingCadetakecontrolofthesituation.He’ssosturdy—there’sadependabilityabouthimthatIlove.He’spractical.Heworkshard.He’sdecisive.
It’sarelieftohavehimontheotherendofmyphone.
“You’regoingtogotakeashowerbeforeyoudoanythingelse.”Underdifferentcircumstances,theprospectofCadeorderingmetoshowerwouldexciteme.“Thenyou’regoingtogointothehallcloset.There’sadigitalthermometerintheresoyoudon’tevenneedtowakehimtocheckhistemperature.Justaimitathisforehead.Thereisalsochildren’sTylenolinthere.Itmightbehardtokeepdown,soyoucanalwaysusethesyringeandjustgivehimalittlewhenhewakesupandseewhathappens.Waterorgingerale—smallsips.”
“Whatdoyoumeanwhenhewakesup?Aren’tyoucominghomesoon?”
Iswearhegrowls.“We’vegotafencedownbythehighwayandareroundingupcows.I’mgoingtobelate.AnyotherdayI’dalreadybeonmyway,butIcan’tleavethemoutbytheroad.”
“WhatifImessthisup?Lukeisn’tamartiniIcanjusttossoutandtryagainwith.”
ThedeeprumbleofCade’slaughfiltersthroughthereceiver.
“Youarenotlaughingatmerightnow!”
“Willa.Youwillnotmessitup.Youneedtobelieveinyourself.You’resmart.You’recapable.You’redetermined.IknowyouarebecauseyoumademelikeyouwhenIsworeIneverwould.”
“Isthatsupposedtobeacompliment?”
“Yougotthis.I’llbelate,butIhavetotalfaithinyou.”
“Wellthen,you’restupiderthanyoulook,”Imutter.
“Thatsupposedtobeacompliment,Red?”isallhesaysbeforeIsighandhangup.16Cade
Cade:Howyouholdingup,Red?
Willa:GotsomeTylenoldown.
Cade:Good.ButhowareYOU?
Willa:Tired.Butokay.
Cade:Didyoushower?
Willa:Yeah…
Cade:Good.Gotobed.Youdon’tneedtoworry.I’llbetheresoon.
***
BythetimeIpulluptothehouse,thesunhassetbehindtheRockies.Icanhearcrickets,andthereareafewlightsoninthehouse.
I’minafoulmood.ThecowsIcanhandle.It’sthecowboysthatpissmeoff—sometimesIthinkI’dbemoreefficientrunningtheranchentirelyonmyown.Iwouldn’thavetimeforakidorfamily,butatleastIwouldn’thavetolistentoabunchofyahooswaxpoeticaboutmyhotnanny.
ItoldBuckythatifhekeptwagginghisjaw,I’dbreakit.
Assholesjustlaughedandshiftedtomakingfunofmeforhavingacrushonher.Cadeandthenannysittinginatree
Assholes.
Itoldthemtheywereallfired,andtheyjustlaughedmore.
Closingmytruckdoorasgentlyaspossibletokeepfromwakingthemup,Iheadtowardthefrontdoor,wishingawaymyagitation.Myworry.Myconfusion.Idon’twanttostepintothishouseasanythingotherthanwhattheyneed.
I’mhalfwayexpectingWillatobeupwhenIstepinside.Thatwobbleinhervoiceonthephonehashauntedmeallnight.Itbogglesmymindthataself-possessedwomanlikehercandoubtherselfsothoroughly.
She’sallswaggerandconfidenceninety-ninepercentofthetime.Butnowandthen,Igetthisflashofinsecurity.Itleavesmeshakingmyhead.
Aftertoeingmybootsoff,Iwalkthroughthehouseonsockedfeet,desperateforashower,butmoredesperatetocheckonmyson.
Willatoo.
Iheadtomybedroomfirst,absentlywonderingifitwillbeweirdifIpopmyheadintoherroomtocheckonher.
ButthosethoughtscometoascreechinghaltwhenIstepintomydarkenedroomandseecopperhairfloatingacrossmypillows.Thelightfromthehallwayilluminateshercreamy,palearmwrappedaroundLuke’stinybody.
Myheartseizesinmychest.Stopsrightinitsfuckingtracks.AndIcan’tlookaway.Iletmyselfstare,shoulderproppedagainstthedoorframe,armscrossedagainstmychest—myonlyarmoragainsttheintensefeelingsthesightofWillasnugglingmysonstirsupinme.
Isoakthemin.
Ithinkabouthersayingsheloveshim.
Ithinkaboutthemomenthereachesforherhand,thewayhelooksupather—justalittleuncertainthatshe’llwanthishandinhers.
Ithinkaboutthecurveofhislipsandthewayhistinyshouldersdroponasighwhensheeffortlesslywrapsherfingersaroundhis,likeit’sthemostnaturalthingintheworld.
IstandhereandthinkwaytoodamnmuchasIstareatthemcurledintoeachother.IletmyselfimaginethingsthatIhavenobusinessimagining.ThingsI’mnotsureIcouldeverliveupto.
Withashakeofmyhead,Itiptoeintotheroom,hoveringoverthemcarefullyasIreachoutandlaythebackofmyhandoverLuke’sforehead.
Blissfullycool,whichmeanseitherthefeverbroke,orshemanagedtogetenoughmedicineintohim.
IsighshakilyandjustbeforeIstraighten,hereyesflutteropen.
“Hi.”Willa’svoiceissoftandsleepy.
“Hi,”Iwhisper,andIcanhearthesmileinmyvoice.
“OhGod.I’msorry.Hewantedmetoliewithhim.Hegotsickagain.Hegotsick…alot.”Herheadturnsasshetakesinhersurroundings.“Ididn’tmeantofallasleepinyourbed.”
Ilikeyouinmybed.
It’sonthetipofmytongue,butIbiteitback,optingfor,“It’sokay.”Ireachoutandrunahandoverhersilkyhair,gentlypressingherheadontothepillow.“Justgobacktosleep.”Lukeiscrashedoutontopofherarmanyway.
“Wherewillyousleep?”Sheblinksgroggily.
“InLuke’sroom.”Ishouldtakemyhandoffher,butIstrokeherhair.
Soothingherormyself?Ofthat,I’mnotentirelysure.
“I’msorry.”
“Don’tbe.Thankyou.Youwereagodsendtoday.”
“That’soverkill,Eaton,”shemumbles,nuzzlingherheadintomypillowtohidefromthecompliment.
Iwonderifshecansmellmethere.
Thumbingsomeofherhair,Ipushitbackbehindherear,lettingmyfingerstrailoverthelineofherjaw.“Youneedtolearnhowtotakeacompliment,Red.Asimplethank-youisallitrequires.”
“Oka—”
Ipressmythumbagainstherlips,entrancedbyhowsuppletheyfeelundermytouch.“Red.Justtakethethank-you.Nowshutupandgobacktosleep.”
Herlipspresstogetherandshegivesafirmnod.ThemotionmakesLukestir,butratherthanwakingup,heturnsoverandnuzzlesintoherchest,smallhandsplayedonherarm.
IwatchWillablinkdownathim,likeshe’sstilltryingtowraphermindaroundwheresheisandwhatshe’sdoing.Andwhenshelooksupatme,uncertaintypaintedalloverherprettyface,allIcandoissmile.
WillaGrantlookswaytoogoodinmybed.
***
“IthinkIwatchedapornolikethisonce.”
MyheadsnapsupfromwhereI’mscrubbingtheupholsteryinthebackofWilla’sJeep.“Pardonme?”Ipoparoundtheopendoorandtakeherin,sittingonthetopstepofmyfrontporch,wearingblackleggingsandablacktanktop.
Shelooksgood.
Thereisnotasingleplaceinthishousethiswomandoesn’tlookgood.
Icanseetheoutlineofhernipplepiercings,butmorethananything,I’mentrancedbythewayherpaleskincontrastsagainstthedarkfabricofherclothes.Thewayherfieryhairseemsevenbrighter.
“Thegrumpymechanicguywithbulgingmuscles.Agirlwhocan’tpayherbill.Ataleasoldastime.”
“Theshitthatcomesoutofyourmouthsometimes.”Idrymyhandsonapieceoftorntowel.It’sapalepink.LikeWilla’slips.
“It’sthebackwardhat.”Shepointsatmewithalightchuckle.“Youflippedtheswitch.”
“Haveyoueverbeentoldthatyouusehumortocoverupbeinguncomfortable?”
“Oh,yeah.Allthetime.”Shesmiles,andIshakemyheadatherinwonder.“Mymom’satherapist,remember?”
“Itoldyouthatyoudidn’tneedtocleanmyhouseordolaundry.”
Herheadquirks,themorningsunglintingoffhersmoothskin.“Haveyoueverbeentoldyou’reterriblyparticular?”
“Willa.”Myarmscross.
“Cade.”Shemirrorsmymotionwithherarms.ExceptitcreatesashelfbeneathherfulltitsandIlosemyfocus.Thescowlmeltsoffmyface.“Iwasn’tabouttohangoutinahousewithbarflaundryjustsittingaround.That’splaingross.”
“Youcleanedthebathroom.”
“Therewasbarftheretoo.”
“Thefloors?”
Shegrimaces.“Barf.”
“Jesus.”Itakemyhandsovermyhat,pressingdownatthebrimoverthebackofmyneck.WhenIpeekup,Idon’tmissthewayWillaiseyeingmyarms.
There’sapartofmethatgetsoffonit.Butthere’sanotherpartofme—theadultpartwithallthebaggage—thatknowsIneedtoputastoptowhateverthistensionisbetweenus.
ProbablynotkissingherandgrindingintoheruntilIblewinmypantswouldhavebeenagreatstart.
OrnotmakinghersitontheedgeofmyhottubsoIcouldeyefuckthewayherbathingsuitviolatedher.
“Idon’tmind.It’s”—herhandwavesaroundinfrontofher—“whatever.IfeltbadforLuke.Youworkhardallday.Youdidn’tneedtowalkintoabarf-coveredhouse.”
“You’renotamaid,Willa.”
Herlipsquirkupandhereyesnarrow.I’venoticedthislook.Itcomesrightbeforeshesayssomethinginappropriate.“IwasasexyoneforHalloweenoneyear.”
Iscowlather.InternallyI’mscowlingatmyselfbecausemyfirsttwothoughtswere:
1.Doesshestillhavethatcostume?
2.HowdoItrackdownandkilleveryguywhosawherwearingit?
ShesnickersandIignoreher.It’swhat’sbestforbothofus.“Youcleanedmyentirehousebutleftyourownvehiclesaturatedwithvomit?”
Herheadwobblesfromsidetoside.“Well,yeah.Itseemedlikeaproblemforanotherday.I’mgoingtogetitdetailed.It’snotabigdeal,soyoucanstopreenactingthatpornoanytimenow.”
“I’malmostdone,Willa.ItseemsliketheleastIcandoforyou,”Igrumble,duckingbackintotheJeep,needingtostopstaringatherandseeingherlipspartonthewordporno
“Cade,stop.It’ssevena.m.andyouwerehomelate.Whattimewereyouup?Don’tyouhavework?”
“Idon’tsleepin,Red.AndI’mtakingthedayofftotakecareofyouguys.”
Shedoesn’trespond.Ihearthefrontdoorshutandletoutasigh,relievedshewalkedaway.Igetlostinshampooingtheseat,watchingthebubblesformandturnintoawhitefoam.
It’sapleasantescape.Manuallaborhasapeculiarwayofstillingmymind,easingmyworries—keepingmeontrackandfocusedonthethingsthatmatter.
I’mlostinthoughtsofthingsthatmatterwhenIfeelasofthandpressagainstthecenterofmyback.
Isqueezemyeyesshut—hard—becauseIknowwhoI’mabouttofaceandIneedtoplayitcool.
ButwhenIturntoWilla,Ifeelthepadsofherfingerstrailalongmyribs.Andthenshe’sstandingbeforeme,holdingasteamingmugoffreshcoffee.Widegreeneyeslookupatme—ahintofconfusioninthem.Somanyquestions.AndasoftnessthatIwanttopulloutandwrapmyselfin.
Sheholdsthecupouttome.“Here.SeemsliketheleastIcoulddo.”
AndIrealizethattakingamomentwithmyeyesclosedtogivemyselfaninternalpeptalkwillnotkeepmeawayfromWillaGrantatall.
Ineedtotryharderbecauseshe’squicklybecomingoneofthosethingsthatmattertome.AndI’mnotsureIcanhandlemoreresponsibility.17Willa
Lukehasmanagedtokeepwater,gingerale,andsomesodacrackersdownoverthecourseoftheday.He’salsosnuggledthehelloutofmeonthecouch,andIamlivingforit.
Atfirst,Iwasn’tsure.BecausewithCadearound,Ifeltheshouldbetheonesoakingupthecuddles.Buthe’skepthimselfbusy,andI’vecaughttheoccasionalsoftlookhe’sgivenusonthecouch.
Luke’sproppedagainsttheendwithhislegsslungovermylapasheleansintomyshoulder.He’sbeentwiddlingmyhairinhispudgyfingersforawhilenow—remindsmeofhisdad.
We’rewatchingsomecartoon,andIwishIcouldsaywhatitwasabout,butI’maltogethertooawareofCadeputteringaroundthehouse.Cleaning.Fixingstuff.
Heliterallywashedthebaseboards.
I’veneverknownamantobesotidy.Buthe’salsodrivingmeinsane.Sittingaroundwhileheworksmakesmetwitchy.
Whenhepullsallthefoodoutofthefridgetowipethingsdown,Ibreak.
“Cade,you’regivingmeaheadache.Pleasecomesitandwatchsomesilly,mind-numbingcartoonwithus.”
“Hey!”LukepoutsupatmelikeI’vejustinsultedsomesortofOscar-worthyperformanceratherthansomethingthatonlyholdschildren’sattentionbecauseit’sbrightandflashesnon-stop.It’sthemusicthatkillsme.It’ssobad.
“Yousayingmymindcouldusealittlenumbing,Red?”Cadegrumpsfromthekitchenwithoutevenglancingupatme.
“Yes.You’regivingmeanxiety.”
“I’llcookyousomething.You’realwayslesspeppywhenyou’refull.”
Isnort.“Dick.”
Thesizzleofsomethinginapanhitsmefirst.
Thenthesmellofbutter.
ThenthefeelofLuke’sweightagainstmystomach.
Ibreathethroughmynose,tryingtofocusontheterribleTVshow.HowcuteLukeis.HowhotCadeis.
Anythingtoridmyselfofthisgrowingsenseofnausea.
It’swhenLukeleanscloseandputsoneclammyhandonmycheekthatthingsgosouth.
“Willa,youhavetheprettiesthair,”hemurmurssweetly.ButhisbreathisallcrackersandgingeraleanddampheatandIcan’tstayhereanymore.
Iclampmylipstogetherandstartfumblingwithpryinghislegsoffme.“Thankyou,baby.ButIneedout.”
Hisbrowfurrows.Helooksmildlyoffended,butnotasoffendedashe’llbeifIbarfonhim.IcatchaflashofCade’sconcernedfaceasIliterallyjogdownthehalltowardthebathroom.TheseatmakesaloudclankingnoiseasIflickitopenandemptymyselfwiththemostunladylikeroaringnoise.
Whentheurgeends,IflushandpeeruptofindCadeandLukestandinginthedoorwaywatchingme.Asifhearingmebarfwasn’tbadenough,thetwoboysarestandingtherestaringlikethey’veneverseenapersongetsick.
“Atleastyougotyoursinthetoilet,”Lukesayswithanearnestlookonhisface.
Ican’thelpbutlaughasIlookbackintothebowl,thesoundofmychuckleechoingagainsttheporcelain.
“Luke,gobacktothecouch.”
Iseehissmallformdepartingfromthecornerofmyeye,butCadedoesn’tmove,stillstandinginthedoorway.He’sstaringathistoesandthebrassroomdividerwherethehardwoodfloorsswaptotiles.
“Yougoingtostandhereandwatch?”
“I’msorry,”hemumbleswithoutglancingup.
“Forwatchingmebarf?Youshouldbe.Idon’tknowhowI’lllookyouintheeyeanymore.”
Hescoffs.“Thatyou’resick.”
“Well,it’snotlikeyoudidthistome.”
Hisheadraisesslowly.“No,butyouwereheretakingcareofLuke.Youstayedwithhimallnight.Youhelpedhim,andnowyou’repayingforit.”
Ihumatthat,reachingforapieceoftoiletpapertowipemymouth,becauseifCadeEatonseesmewithbarfonmyface,Iwilldiveheadfirstintothistoiletbowlandflushmyselfdownit.Withasmallshrug,Iglanceoveratthemanstandinginthedoorway—tallandbroadandimposing,withthesweetestexpressionofconcernonhisface.
“He’sworthit,”Isay,withawaterysmile.
Sadly,smilingmakesmefeelnauseousagainandwithinseconds,I’mfranticallywavingahandatCade,hopinghe’lljustleavemetobesickalone.
Hedoes.
Butonlybriefly.
He’sbackwithsomesortofwarkit,andIwatchhimplacethingsonthecounter.Thermometer,Tylenol,water,gingeraleand…oneofhisT-shirts?
“Whatareyoudoing?”IgrumbleasIwipeatmywateryeyes,nodoubtsmudgedwithmascara.
“Takingcareofyou,”hereplieswithoutevenlookingmyway.HistonesaysthatIjustaskedhimastupidquestion.
“That’sfine.Icantakecareofmyself.”
“Iknowyoucan,butyoudon’thavetobecauseI’mheretohelp.”Hesaysitsomatter-of-factly.Likedoingthisforsomeoneisthemostobviousthingintheworld.AndIwonderif,forhim,maybeitis.
Hesteppedintotakecareofhissiblingsinthewakeoftragedy.Hesteppeduptobeasingleparenttohisson.
Barfingbabysitter?That’saperfectjobforhimtoo.
Athiscore,Cadeisacaretaker.Selfless.WithsuchabigheartIalmostcan’twrapmyheadaroundit.
Heturnsnow,lipstippeddownandbrowfurrowed.I’vestartedthinkingofthisexpressionasrestingscowlface—it’sjusthisdefault.
IstartlewhenheholdsthethermometerguntomyforeheadwhereI’mkneelingonthefloor.
“I’mjusttakingyourtemperature.”Hisfacesoftens.
“Iknow.”Ipushmyhairoffmyface.“Itstillfeelslikeaweapontome.”
Heclicksthebutton.Whenitbeeps,hefrowns.“101.4—it’sred.”Heturnstoshowittome,likeIdon’ttrusthisabilitytoreadorsomething.
“Okay.”
“Diditcomeoutofnowhere?”
Ishrug.“You’reneuroticcleaningreallywasgivingmeaheadache.AndthenitwasLuke’sweightonmystomachandthesmellofhiscrackerbreath.”
Adeeprumblerollsaroundinhischest.“Well,ifLukeisanythingtogoby,itseemsshortlived.Thebadnewsis—”
“I’mgoingtobebarfingmybrainsoutforthenextseveralhours?”Iask.
HisheadtiltsasheswipestheT-shirtoffthecounterbesidehim,takesonesteptowardme,andcrouchesdowntolookmeintheeye.
Reallylookmeintheeye.Inawaythatmakesmerealizehe’sbeenavoidingmygazeorturningawaywhenImeethis.Butnotrightnow.Rightnow,it’salldarkchocolateandwarmcaramelstreakingacrossmulti-facetedirises.Inotethefinelinesbesidehiseyes.Onanyoneelse,they’dbelaughlines,butonCadetheylendtohisruggedsexappeal.
Hesmiles,makingthemcrinkleevenfurther.“No,Red.Thebadnewsisthatyouhavesomebarfonyourshirt.”
Iclosemyeyesandgroan.“Thisismygo-tostylethesepasttwenty-fourhours.”
“It’sokay.”Hisvoiceislikevelvetdraggingacrossmyskin.“Noonehaseverlookedbetterthanyoudowithbarfontheirshirt.”
Poppingoneeyeopen,Iregardhimwarily.“Areyouhittingonthebarfygirl,Eaton?”
Hegrinsandreachesforward,fingersstretchingforthehemofmyshirt.“Letmehelpyou,Red,”hesaysquietly.
There’snothingsexualaboutthewayCadetakesmyshirtinhisfingers,butitdoesn’tstopmypulsefromracingormybreathfromquickeningashepeelsmyshirtup,exposingmybarestomachandplainsportsbra.
He’ssuchagentleman,hedoesn’tevenglancedown.Hekeepshiseyesonmyface,evenafterIliftmyarmsandlethimpulltheshirtovermyhead.Iwillthenauseaaway,hopinguponhopeIcanholdittogether.
Buteventhebeautifulmaninfrontofmecan’tdistractfromthefeelingatthebackofmythroat,thesmellofmyshirtashemovesitaway.
“Sorry,”IgroanbeforeIturnbacktothetoilet,grippingtheshinyedgesasanotherwaveofsicknesshitsme.
ItracksmybodyandImoan,whichisrightwhenIfeelCade’scallousedfingertipsatmyneck,gentlyliftingmyhairawayfrommyface.IspendthenextminuteofmylifehuggingthetoiletwhileCadefistsmyhairandsmoothsgentlecirclesonmyback.
I’veimaginedCadetakingmyhairinhisfist—butnotlikethis.ThisishumiliatinginawayI’llneverrecoverfrom.Themagicisstraightgone
Whentheurgesubsides,Iquicklyflushagain,wipingmyfacebeforeturningbacktothesexy-as-sinmanwhojustheldmyhairandrubbedmybackwhileIemptiedmystomach.
Hecontinuescaressingmybackand,likethesaintheis,doesn’tevenlookhorrifiedbyme.“It’sokay,Red.Igotyou.”
Igotyou.
There’ssomethingaboutbeingsickthatturnsmeintoachildagain.Helplessandpitiful.AndthefactCadeishereandnotannoyedisthebiggestrelief.
InodandhepullshisT-shirtoffthecountertopagainbeforecarefullyslidingitovermeinawaveofcoolfabric.It’smassivebutitsmellsfresh.Itsmellslikehim—pine.Andthat’snotasmellthat’smakingmenauseousatall.
“Youokay?”Hisexpressionisconcernedbutnotpanicked.Thereissomethingcomfortingaboutthefactheissounflappable.
“Yeah.Imightjust…”Iwaveahandaroundthebathroom.“Campoutinhereforabit.Mydignitywouldappreciatealittleprivacy.Don’tquiteknowhowI’llrepayyouforholdingmyhairbackwhileIgotsick.”Ishakemyheadandletmyeyesfluttershut.
Helaughsbutit’sagentleone.Ihearhimpullaway,andIletmyselfslumpagainstthewallbehindme.Thesoundofhimopeningandclosingdrawersfillsthesmallroom,butI’mtootiredtobughimaboutcleaningagain.
Neatfreak.
Ifeelthewarmthofhimasheapproachesagain.“Situp,Red.”
“Can’t.Tootired.”Whyisbarfingsoexhausting?
“Youcandoit,”hecoaxeswithonehandonmyshoulder.
“I’mgoingtogetyousick,”Iwhine,stillnotmoving.
“Inevergetsick.”Histhumbrubssweetlyacrossmycollarbone,andIforcemyeyesopentolookathim.“Comeon,leanforwardabit.”
Idon’tknowwhyhewantsmetodothis,butitseemslikehe’snotleavinguntilIdo,soIcomply,eventhoughtherebelliouspartofmewantstoleanbackandsay,Makeme
Itwouldseemnauseaeasilyquellstherebelliouspartofme.
“That’smygirl.”Hisdeepvoicevibratesthroughmybones,andthenhisfingersareinmyhair,gentlycombingitbackintoaponytailandwrappingasoftsilkscrunchyaroundit.Onehemusthavefishedoutofmydrawer.
Imoanatthefeel.Athiswords.Mygirl.
God,Imustbedelirious.Ichanceapeekupathisstubbledjawandsternfeatures,whilehecarefullypullsmyhairback.Iwanttomeltintoapuddle,andI’mcertainthathasnothingtodowiththestomachbug.
GrumpyCadeishot.
SweetCadeisirresistible.
Withmyhairsecured,hemeetsmygaze,facelinedwithconcern.Herunsawidepalmdownthesideofmyhead,restingitatmyneck.“I’mgoingtoleaveyoualonenow,eventhoughIdon’twantto.Ifyouneedme,I’llbeoutthere.”Heliftshischintowardthedoor.
I’mnotsurewhattosaytothat.Tohim.Tothis.So,Ijustnodstupidly.
Andstareathisassashewalksoutofthebathroom.
***
“Okay,upwego.”
I’mfaintlyawareofthemostmasculinesmellandthefeelofgentlehandsshapingmywaist.
“Comeon,Red.Itriedtobeagentlemanandrespectyourwishes,butyourwishesarebullshit.IstayedoutofhereaslongasIcould,anditdrovemecrazytodoit.I’mnotleavingyousleepingonmybathroomfloor.”
ThatcommenthasmyeyelidsdraggingopenasawarenessseepsbackinthatIamindeedstillinthebathroom.It’snolongerlightoutandthekinkinmyneckiscausingmorediscomfortthananyactualsenseofnausea.
Cade’shandsslideintomyarmpitsandliftme.Igowithhim,leaningintohimonceI’mstanding.Hewrapsanarmaroundmywaisttosupportmewithoutevenblinking.
“Let’sgo,”hewhispers.Icanfeeltheraspofhisbeardagainstmyear,andsuddenlyI’mwideawakeandintimatelyawareofthefactIhavenotbrushedmyteeth.
“Gowhere?”Iblinkathim,groggyandstilltryingtogetmybearings.
“Mybed.”
Iblinkwithmoreintentionnow.“Comeagain?”
“It’sclosesttoatoiletifyouneedit.Don’tbeweirdaboutit.Itmakessense.”
Hislogicisn’tflawed.It’sthesamereasoningIusedlastnightwithLuke.“Okay,fine.ButIneedtobrushmyteeth.”
HerollshiseyesandIwatchhisjawwork.“Idon’tcareaboutyourbreath,Red.I’mnottakingyoutheretomakeout.”
Ilaugh,butmybiggestquestionis,Whynot?
WhileIbrushmyteeth,hestandsinthebathroomdoorway,armscrossed,glaringatmelikeI’maninmateandhe’sawardenorsomething.
WhenIfinish,heholdsoutahandtome,andItakeit,lettinghimleadmethroughthequiethousetowardhisbedroom.ItughimtoastopoutsideofLuke’sroomandpeekinathislittlebodyrolledupinablanketwithplasticstickystarsglowingontheceiling.Ican’thelpbutsmile,relievedthatheseemstoberestingcomfortably.
“Washefeelingbetter?”Iask,beforeglancingupathisdad.
“Yeah.He’sgoingtobefine.Feverbrokeandeverything.It’syouI’mworriedaboutnow.Youtwoaregivingmesomeextragraystoday.”
Ismileanddropmygaze.“Ah,well.Theylookgoodonyou.”
Hesaysnothing,butashepullsmetherestofthewaydownthehalltowardthemasterbedroom,histhumbrubssoftcirclesontheprotrudingboneinmywrist.
“In,”heorders,pointingattheenormousbed.
“Aye,aye,Captain.”Isalute,butit’sweakandtired,andIfeeloverwhelminglyrelievedtobecrawlingintohisbed.
“Didyoukeepanythingdown?”Heclicksonthebedsidelampandpullstheblanketoverme.
“No.”Isigh.
Hegruntsandthenturns,stridingoutofthebedroom.Withinmomentshereturnswithliquidsandmeds.
Hecracksopenthecanofgingeraleandholdsitouttome.“Smallsips.”
Withshakyhands,Itakeitfromhim,eyeingthewayhisarmsgobacktocrossingoverhischest.“Youjustgonnastandthereandglareatme?IfeellikeI’mintrouble.”
Heblowsoutaloudsighandrunsahandthroughhishair.“I’msorry.Youtwohadmeworried.”
Itakeonesmallsip,notlovingthetasteofitmixingwiththeleftovermintflavorfrommytoothpaste.“You’reabigsofty,CadeEaton.Sitdown.”
“Here?”Hisbrowsknit.
“Itisyourbed.”Ipatthespotbesideme.“Justkeepmecompanyforafewminutes,andthenI’llgotosleep.IbetI’llbefinetomorrow.”
“Maybe,”hegrunts,skepticallyassessingmewhiletakingahesitantseat.
Iletmyheadrestagainstthebedframeasthefizzyliquidsettlesinmystomach.“TellmehowLukewastonight.”
“Seriously?”
“Yeah.Ofcourse.Didheseembetter?Iwassoworriedabouthim.”
Cadestaresatme,likehecan’tquitebelievewhatI’mtellinghim.“Hewasworriedaboutyou.HewantedtomakesurethatIgaveyouthisbed.Hepeekedinandsawyousleepingsittingup—whichhedidn’ttellmeuntilIwasalreadylyingdowntoputhimtosleep.”
IlaughalittleatthatbecauseIcantotallyimaginehimsneakingapeek.“Mylittletroublemaker,”Imurmur,takinganothersip.
Cadehumsatthat,staringatmeevenharder.“Yousureyou’veneverworkedwithkidsbefore?”
“Positive.”
“Huh.”Hefoldshishandsawkwardlyoverhiskneecaps,asifhedoesn’tquiteknowwhattodowiththem.Likehe’suncomfortablesittingheretalkingtomeinthesilentroom.“You’regoodatit.Maybeyoushouldbecomeateacherorsomething.”
Awhooshofairrushesfrommynose.“Yeah.Maybe.Thatsoundsfun,actually.Idon’tknowthough.Itjustallfeelssodaunting.”
“Whatdoes?”
“Jobs.Careers.Life.Beingagrown-up?”
“Doyoulikebartending?”
Irollmylipstogetherandregardmybosscarefully.“Notespecially.ItwasfunwhenIwasyounger.Itfeltlikegettingpaidtobesocial.Butgoingbacktoitwillbehard.Ilikeitouthere.”
Histhroatbobsandhestaresdownathishands,notrespondingtowhatIjustsaid.
“Doyoulikeranching?”Iask,tryingtocoaxhimoutofwhatevercausedhissilence.
Hislipsslowlytipup.“Iloveit.Ilovebeingoutside.Ilovethelongdays.IlovehowtiredIamwhenIcrawlintobedatnight.Iactliketheyahoosinthebunkhousepissmeoff,butIevenlovetheminmyownway.”
“Unlesstheycheckmeout.”Ipointathim,takinganothersip.
Hechuckles.“Yeah,Red.Unlesstheycheckyouout.”
“Thatmustbeagoodfeeling.Tobesosurethatyou’redoingtherightthinginyourlife.”
Cadenods,fingerstappingonhisknees,cordedforearmsflexingashedoes.“Doyouthinkyou’llkeepworkingatthebar?Ortrysomethingnew?”
Isettlebackalittle,enjoyingCade’scomfortablebedandtheperfectlysupportivepillows.Hasanybedeverfeltbetter?“Idon’tknow.Newsoundsscary.Itsoundslikefailure.”Iscoff.“Imean,lookatmyparents.Insanelytalentedmeetsinsanelyeducated.Andmybrother?Justhadtohaveallthatplusbeinsanelydriven.AndI’mjustoverherebeinginsanelyflighty.”
Histeethgrind.“You’realotofthings,Red.Butflightyisnotoneofthem.”
“Well,I’mtoointimidatedtotrysomethingnewandtooscaredoffailuretocommittoanythingmorethanastringofshort-termrelationshipsandthesamejobI’vehadsinceIturnedeighteen.EveryonekeepstellingmeIcanbeanythingIwanttobeanddoanythingIwanttodo.AndI’mjust…paralyzedbyitall.”Isnortoutasadlaugh.“Isoundflightytome.”
“Knockthatoff,”hegritsout,staringatmewithfireinhiseyes.
“What?”Iquirkabrowathim,notingthataftermybathroomfloornap,Ifeelwellenoughtogivehimbackabitofattitude.
“Puttingyourselfdownlikethat.Avoidingcompliments.You’reyoung.Yourlifeisfarfromover,andweallgettomakemistakesandcomebackfromthem.Lookatme.I’vemademyfairshareofthem,andallIcandoistrytobebetter—todobetter.”
“YouhadalotofrelationshipssinceLuke’smomleft?”
Hehuffsoutabreath.“No,Red.Isaidtrytobebetter.Ihaven’ttotallyfiguredouthowtocomebackfromthatone.”
“Youknowwhatyouneed?Someno-strings-attachedsexwiththenanny.”Mytoneisteasing,butIthinkwebothknowI’mnotjoking.Sayingsomethingforshockvalueisn’tunusualforme,butthiswasreallymyflippantwayofmakingtheoffer.
Hisknucklesturnwhiteonhiskneesashestaresathishands.Hegiveshisheadashakeashereachesforthebottleofpillsonthenightstand.Iwatchraptlyashisfingerstwistthetopoffandheemptiesoneontohispalmbeforeputtingthebottleback.
Finallyturningtolookatme,heholdsthepillout,andIopenahandforhiminresponse.ThetensionbetweenusislikealivingentityinthewakeofwhatIjustsuggested.Somethingwebothknowistherebutarechoosingtoignore.
Whenhedropsthegelcapsuleintomypalm,hewrapsbothhisbig,stronghandsaroundmineandthenleansinclose.Electricityzingsbetweenus.Iwanttoleanforwardandbuntonhisfacialhair,beghimtostayherewithme.Tojustthinkaboutit.
Hisbreathfansacrossmycheek,andhiseyesholdmecaptive.“That’sthething,Red.Therearetoomanyfuckin’stringswithyou.Enoughtostrangleusboth.Sowe’regoingtoberesponsibleandignorewhateverthisisbetweenus.Becauseamonthfromnow,we’llbepartingways.You’regoingtolivesomefabulous,wildlysuccessfullifeinthecity,andI’mgoingtobehere,takingcareofthisplacefortherestofmydays.We’reondifferentpaths,youandme.”
Thesmilehegivesmeisflat,buthishandssqueezeminebeforehepushestostand.“TaketheTylenolandgetsomerest.”
“Whereareyougoingtosleep?”
“I’lltakeyourbed,”hesaysoverhisshoulder.“Icanwashthesheetstomorrow.”
Andthen,he’swalkingaway,leavingmeholdingapill,adrink,andthetatteredremainsofmyego.Inabedthatsmellslikehimandmakesmewishhewereherewithme.
“Cade?”
Hestopsjustashishandwrapsaroundthedoorhandle.“Yeah?”hereplieswithoutevenlookingatme.
“Willyoustay?”
Hisbodygoeseerilystill.Nopartofhimmoves.IfIdidn’tknowbetter,I’dthinkhewasdead.
Actually,cometothinkofit,IwishIwasdeadafterblurtingthatoutlikesomedorkwithacrushonthehot,grumpysingledadwhojusttoldmeI’mtoocomplicatedforhim.Ishouldhavemoreprideandshouldn’tputhiminsuchanawkwardposition.ButhereIam,askinghimtostay.
Heturns,browlow,expressiontight.“Stay?”
“Yeah…”Ibitemylip,crumplingalittleundertheintensityofhisscowl.“Justforabit.Justtochat.Orsomething.”
Hestaresatmeforafewbeats,aglimpseofshockdartingacrosshishardfeatures.Hedidnotexpectmetoaskhimtostay.
Butwithafirmnodinmydirection,hetakesquietstepsbacktothebed.
Andhestays.18Cade
Lance:CanIswingbyandpracticewithyouonedaythisweek?
Cade:Sure.
Lance:Wednesday?
Cade:Sure.
Lance:Willthenannybethere?
Cade:Fuckoff,Lance.
Lance:Lmao.Soangryallthetime.SeeyouonWednesday!
***
“TellmeaboutyoungCade.”
I’msittingasfarawayfromWillaasIpossiblycan.IfIcouldbuildawallofpillowsdownthemiddleofthisbed,Iwould.Notthatitwouldstopmefromdraggingherunderneathme.
Terrible,horrible,nogood,unbelievablybadidea.
EvenherquestionsIdon’twanttoansweraren’thelpingdistractmefromthenearnessofher.Thesmellofher.
Thefuckingtemptationofher.
“Um.”Iclearmythroat.“Idunno.Notmuchtotell.”Proppingmyhandsacrossmystomach,Ichanceapeekoverather.
She’salittlepale,thedarkcirclesunderhereyeshighlightedonlybythedimglowofthebedsidelight.
She’sfuckingbeautiful.
Allslopinglines.Herneck.Hernose.Thebottomlineofherjaw.There’saneleganceabouther.WillaGrantisclassy.She’sgotfancywrittenalloverher,yetshewalksaroundinoldconcertteesandisjustcrazyenoughtoknockakidintoapoolforrevenge.
She’ssomuchmorethanmeetstheeye,andsittinginadarkroomwithonlyasmallstretchofsoftmattressbetweenus,IhavetoadmittomyselfthatthewayIwantherisaboutsomuchmorethanhowshelooks.
ShecapturedmyattentionthefirsttimeIlaideyesonher,andIhaven’tbeenabletolookawaysince.
It’sgoddamndistracting.
“Comeon.Wereyouthisseriousasakid?OrwereyoulikeLuke?”Shesaysitlightly,butIcanseethewayhereyeshavestartedtosag.
“IwasnothinglikeLuke.AndIdon’twantLuketobeanythinglikemeeither.Mymomdyingchangedtoomuch.”
Shenodssolemnlybutdoesn’tstartditheringoverme,whichIappreciate.Forsomeonewhogrewupprivileged,there’saninherentpracticalityaboutWilla.Somethinginthewayhermindworks.IseeitwhenshetalkstoLuke.She’snotprissyorhighmaintenance.She’sdowntoearth,andIlovethatabouther.Evenifsheisdelusionalaboutacceptingcompliments.
“Iwatchedherdiethatday.Iwatchedmydadholdher.Iwatchedhimsob.”Myteethgrind,andIdropmyeyesforamoment.“Ithinkmychildhoodkindofdiedthatdaytoo.”
Iglanceatherwidegreeneyes,alittleshinynow.Herstrawberrylipsslightlypart,andshenodsagain.Iappreciateshedoesn’tfillthesilencewithmeaninglesswords.
“MaybeIwaspracticalfromanearlyage.Strategic?”Isighandstareupattheceiling.“Idon’twanttosoundlikeamartyrorsomething.”
“Youdon’t.”Herreplyissoftandfirm.
“ButIsawaneed,evenasachild.Ourfamilyneededhelp.AndIoptedtohelp.IguessIneverstopped.Duty-boundorsomething.Idon’tregretit,butIalsodidn’tgetlazy,goofysummers.WhenIcamehomefromschool,Itookcareofmybrotherssomydaddidn’thavetocomeinearlyfromwork.Theneighborspitchedin.Mrs.HillhelpedwithLukeuntilshewasjusttoooldtokeepup.ButIdidn’twanthimtospendhissummerworkingaroundtheranchorgettingdraggedeverywherewithme.It’sfunforaday.Notfortwomonths.”
“Enter,me.”Iseeherlipsliftasshegivesmealittlewink.“Thefun.”
Ihuffoutabreath.“Youareprettyfun.Heworshipsthegroundyouwalkon.”
Staringdownathernails,shetriesnottolaugh.“Asallmenshould.”
Chuckling,Ifullyturnmygazeonher.“Whatwereyoulikeasakid?”
Thetipofhernosewigglesassheconsidersheranswer.“IwishIcouldtellyouI’vechangedalot,butI’mnotsosureIhave.”There’saself-deprecatinghollownesstohervoice.“I’vealwaysbeenthefungirl.Thecarefreegirl.MydadwasontheroadalotwhenIwasyounger.Mymomworkedallthetime.Wehadnanniestoo.Orfamilythathelped.Cometothinkofit,itwasn’tsodifferentfromthecommunityLukehasaroundhim.Sodon’tworry,he’llturnoutgreat.Justlikeme.”
Shesaysitlikeit’sapunchlinetoajoke,andIjustdon’tgetwhyshe’sthishardonherself.WhydoessheseeherselfassomesortoffailurewhenallIseeisasmart,funny,self-possessedyoungwoman?Onewhomademebeghertostay.
Ishrug.“I’dbeveryproudofhimifheturnedoutlikeyou.”
Whenshetiltsherhead,onesofttendrilofhairslipsoutandcaressesthesideofherface.“Really?”
“Yes,Willa.WhatmorecouldIwantforhim?Intelligent,independent,asolidsenseofhumor,agoodheadonhisshoulders.”
“Doyouthinkhe’llpropositionhisnannyforno-strings-attachedsexthough?”
“JesusChrist,woman.”Istareattheceilingagain.
Shelaughsandit’ssopretty.Likechimesinthewind.OneofthefirstthingsInoticedaboutherthatdayinthecoffeeshop.
“Well,ifwecan’tjokeaboutit,thingswillgetawkward.Ifigurewe’restucktogetherfortherestofourliveswithSummerandRhett.”Thatrealityhitsmelikeawreckingball.“Oneday,yearsdowntheroad,we’llbegray-hairedandsoftinthemiddlesection,drinkinganenormousglassofspicedrumandeggnogaroundtheChristmastree.I’llmakesomejokeaboutthenightIofferedfriends-with-benefitstoyou.Rhettwillhowl.Summerwillrollhereyes,becauseI’mgoingtotellhertomorrow,andshe’llthinkI’mridiculousforbringingitupsomanyyearslater.Yoursmall-townwifeywillthrowahandoverherchest”—Willaimitatesthemotion—“andactscandalizedallnight.Infact,she’llgivemethecoldshoulderfortherestofourlives.AndI’lloutliveher,sothat’sfine.Joke’sonher.Iwin.Andmyhusbandwillbeaccustomedtomyantics,sohe’lljustrollhiseyesandcontinuedrinking.”
It’sfunnyandIshouldlaugh.ButI’mcaughtonthepartwhereshe’smarriedtosomemanwhorollshiseyesather.Amanwhoisn’tme.AndIhavesomehowfailedtowrapmyheadaroundthefactthatI’mgoingtobeconnectedtothiswomanfortherestofmylife.
“Red,don’tmarryamanwhorollshiseyesatyou.”
“Yourollyoureyesatmeallthetime.”
Fuck,Ineedtostopdoingthat.Shedeservesbetter.
“Don’tmarrymeeither.”
Sheshrugsandcarrieson,undeterred.“He’llgobacktoobsessivelycheckinghisinvestmentportfolio,andeveryonewillhearusfightaboutitlaterthatnight.Christmasmorningwillbeawkwardbecausehe’llleave,andeveryonewilltalkabouthowobviouslythethirdtimeisnotthecharm,becauseWilla’sthirdmarriageisabouttofallapart.”
Ilaughnow,afistovermymouth,shouldersheavingunderthestrainofnotwakingLuke.“Red,you’renuts.ButIlikethataboutyou.You’relikeagoddamnhurricane.”
Hermouthcurves,sinfullywicked.“SometimesIfeellikethat.Outherethough?Idon’tknow.There’ssomethingabouttheendlessstretchesoflandaroundmethat’sjust…soothing?Likethere’snothingelsethatneedsdoing.Ifeelverysettledforthefirsttimeinalongtime.”
“Theeyeofthestorm,”Isay,allowingmyselftostudyher.
It’shardtomeethergaze.Hereyesaresogreen.Herlipssotempting.NowonderIcan’tstopthinkingabouther.She’slookslikeadollandcracksjokeslikeacowboy.
Evenworkingcowsinthemiddleofascorchingafternoon,shepopsintomyhead.
That’salwaysbeenthewildestthingtomeabouthavingakid.I’mneverwithouthim.Neverstopthinkingabouthim.Worryingabouthim.Andsomehow,inamatterofweeks,Willahasimplantedherselfintothatsamespace.
“Theeyeofthestorm,”sherepeatssoftly,eyesscouringmeintenselybeforeglancingaroundmyroom.“Maybeyou’reright.”
Whensheturnsbacktome,hereyestwinkleandherlipslooksoftanddamp.
“Willa.”Isayinwarning,becauseI’moldenoughandwiseenoughtorecognizetheexpressiononherface.
“Yes?”Sherollsupontoherknees,facingme.
“Whatareyoudoing?”
“Lookingatyou.”
Iresisttheurgetorollmyeyes.Shehasahardenoughtimetakingherselfseriouslywithoutmeaddingtothatinsecurity.
“Why?”Ihusk.
“BecauseIwantyourattentionwhenIthankyou.”
“Forwhat?”
Sheletsoutanexhaustedsigh.“Takingcareofme.”
Ishrugandlookaway,unabletohandletheweightofherstare.
“You’reagoodman,CadeEaton.”
Hercomplimenthasmyskincrawling.MaybeI’mjustasbadwhenitcomestoacceptingpraise.Butforher,Icanbebetter.
“Thankyou.Andyou’reanexceptionalyoungwoman.”Iholdhergaze.Theairhumsbetweenusandeverythinginsidemesaystoreachforher.Tocrushmylipsagainsthers,runmyfingersthroughthatsilkycopperhair.
“Itsoundslikeyou’rewritingmyreportcard.”Sheleanscloser.
ButIdrawaway.Becauseshe’stoodamnclose,andI’mtoodamnold—carryingtoomuchbaggage.
Areportcard.IalmostfeellikeIcouldbe.
Swingingmylegsovertheoppositeedgeofthebed,Iturnmybackonherandrunmyhandsthroughmyhair.“Gladyou’refeelingbetter.Getsomerest.”
Iheadforthedoorandit’saHerculeanefforttowalkawayfromher.Onequickturnovermyshoulderconfirmsthedisappointmentonherface.Resignation.
Twooffersinonenight.
Twooffersturneddown.
Whenthedoorclicksshutbehindme,IrealizeI’mshuttingthedooronmychancewiththegirlsittingonmybed.Becauseherpridewon’tletheraskagain.AndI’mstilltoofucked-upovertheshitTaliaputmethroughtoletmyselfhaveher.Tooscaredtowantsomethingthatbadly,tooscaredtocareaboutsomethingthatdeeply.
Tooscaredtogetmyheartbrokenagain.
Whatheart?Ichidemyself.
Iwalkstraighttoherroomandcrawlintoherbed,thezestyscentofherorangebodylotionwrappingaroundmelikethesweetesttorture.
Itakeadeepbreathandpresstheheelsofmyhandsintothesocketsofmyeyes.
AndthenIliehere,staringattheceiling,replayingthatlookonherface.
Andfeelingsicktomystomach.
***
“I’msoexcited!Lukeexclaimsaswepulluptotherodeogroundsafewtownsover.
“Metoo.”Willaturnsasmileintothebackseatofmytruck.SherodewithustodaybecauseLukebeggedforustoalldrivetogether.He’soblivioustothetensionbetweenus,theslightpangofheartacheandmissedchances.
Inanotherlifetime,wemighthaveworked.Orwe’dhavehadafling.ButIknowIcan’thaveherandnotkeepher—it’sjustnotthewayI’mwired.AndIknowshedoesn’twanttobekept.
We’vebeendancingaroundeachotherforoveraweek.Politebutslightlyuncomfortable.Professionalandfriendlybutlessplayfulsomehow.
Shehasn’ttextedmeaboutherpanties,andIwishshewould.ShespenttheweekendatSummer’s,andIwishshehadn’t.
I’mafuckingmess.AndnowIhavetodocowboy-showboatshitbecauseIplayedastupidgameoftruthordarewithWillaandwastoodumbstruckbytheoutlineofherpussytosayno.
“You’regoingtowin,Dad!”
Isnort.Probablynot,butIdon’ttellLukethat.“Thanks,pal.Withafanlikeyou,it’llbehardnotto.”
Ipullintoaspotwhereit’llbeeasytounloadmyhorse.MyranchhorsethatWillaandLukespentallweekgroominglikeshe’sashowpony.Herdark,speckledcoatisglistening.There’snotatangletobefoundinhermane,notaburrinhertail.Ithinktheyevenputoilonherhooves.I’mnotsurethatBlueberryhaseverlookedthisgoodinherlife.
Withmyrigparked,IriskaglanceatWilla.“Yougood?”
Herlipsroll.Shedoesn’tmeanittobeseductive,buteverylittlethingshedoesfeelslikeamissedopportunitynow.Thoselipsshouldbemine.Onmine.Wrappedaroundmycock.Moaningmyname.
“Yup.Allgood.We’ll”—shehikesathumboverhershoulder—“headoutandlookaround.We’llbebackintimetowatchyourrun.”
Inodbeforegazingattheseaofpeople,thinkingofhowmylifemighthavebeenifthingshadgonedifferently.WouldIbehere?Ontheroad?Penningandchasingbuckles?
“Canwegeticecream?”Lukecallsashefliesoutofthebackseat.
“Yeah,we’regettingeverysugarythingwecanfindbecauseit’sstillbeforedinner,”Willadeadpansasshegetsoutofthetruck,andIknowshesaiditjusttopesterme.
“Score!”Throughthewindow,IseeLukeleap,afistshootingupintotheairoverhishead.Themotionknockshiscowboyhatoff,straightintotheloose,dustydirt.
Willa’sheadtipsbackonalaughbeforeshecrouchesdownandscoopsitofftheground,dustingitoffwhilesayingsomethingtoLukeIcan’tmakeout.Whateveritis,itmakeshimgiggle.
Shesquatsandplacesthehatonhishead,givingitalittletugatthesamemomentthecornersofhermouthpullupintothemostinfectioussmile.
IfindmyselfsmilingatthemfromwhereI’mstillsittingbehindthewheel.Lukeisgrinningevenwider.WhenWillareachesforwardandboopsthetipofhisnose,Iseehissmilesoftenandgoalittlewistful.Heboopsherbackandtheytakeamomenttojustsmileateachother.
SomethinginmychestcrackswideopenasIwatchthemtogether.Kindredspiritsinsomanyways.
Theyturntoleave,andLukeslipshishandintoWilla’s.They’recutetogether.He’sdressedlikeatinycowboy,andshe’swearingawhite,old-schoolPepsiT-shirt,abeltthatlooksmorelikeachain,andherhairinloosewavesdownherback.
Iimagineherwearingthatbeltandthatbeltonly,butthenmyeyestraveldownoverhertorturouslytightjeans.Theonesthatdisplayherasslikeit’sthestaroftheshow.TheonesthatflareoutoverapairofsnakeskincowboybootssheborrowedfromSummer.
I’mgoingtotellSummertokeepthoseonlockdown,becausetheylooktoofuckinggoodonWilla.
Shelookstoofuckinggood.Period.
AndIwanttopunchsomeone.Becausebasedonalltheturningheads,I’mnottheonlyonewho’snoticinghowgoodshelooks.19Willa
Rhett:Whereyoukidsat?
Willa:Workingonruiningourbloodsugar.You?
Rhett:JasperandIjustpulledup.WannameetnearCade’struck?
Willa:Sure,we’llheadyourway.
Rhett:I’msupposedtotellyoutobecareful.
Willa:Ofwhat?
Rhett:Ithinkmybrother’swordswere:she’scluelessthatabunchofdumbasscowboyskeephumpingherlegwhenshewalkspast.
Willa:Cool,cool,cool.I’lltrynottotripwhiletheydo.
***
Iwasn’tlyingwhenItoldLukeweweregettingallthesugar.BeingaroundCademakesmewanttodrink,butthat’snotanoptionwhenyou’retakingcareofachild.SoIleanonsweet,sweetsugar.
“Ican’tdecidewhichflavorIlikebetter,”Lukeannouncesfrombesidemeasweweavethroughthecrowd.
“Whychoose?Cinnamonsugarandbrownsugardon’tneedtocompete.Minidonutsareawin,nomatterwhat.”IstickmyhandouttoLukeaswepressintothethickeningcrowd.“Stayclose,bud.It’sbusy.”
Cowboysasfarastheeyecansee,rightwhenI’verealizedI’veonlygoteyesforone.OverayearofmemakingjokestoSummeraboutsavinghorsesandridingcowboys,andIdon’tevenwanttherestofthem.Iwasfineuntilhetookcareofme.Heldmygoddamnhairupandrubbedmyback.
Istillrefusetoacceptthatpeoplenormallydothatfortheiremployees.Andthefacthedidhasmeoverthinkingthingssomethingfiercebecause,ifI’mbeinghonest,gettingturneddownisanewphenomenonforme.AndI’malittlebitpissedaboutit.Alittlebitembarrassed.
AlittlebitwoundedbecauseCadeissuchagoodman.I’dwantmorethanjustsex,andhedoesn’tevenwantthat.It’saroughblowtowhatI’mrealizingismyalreadyfragileego.
I’veneverconsideredmyselfself-conscious,buttheothernightCademadesomepointsIkeepturningoverinmymind.ThingsaboutmyselfI’veneverrealized.
“There’suncleRhett!”Lukeshoutsupatme,knockingmeoffthewindingpathIgotlostoninmymind.
Rhett’shardtomisswithhisshoulderlengthhairandcockygrin,onethatmorphsintoawidesmilewhenhehearsLukeshoutinghisnameandseesmegettingdraggedbehindtheboy.
“Hey,littlepsycho.”RhettpicksupLukeandtosseshimontohisshoulders,givinghimthebestviewinthehouse.Heturnstomeandnodshishead.“Willa.”
“Hi.”Ireturnhissmile.IlikeRhettEaton.Iespeciallylikehimformybestfriend.It’stheworstwhenyourfriendsdatesomeoneyoucan’tstand,butthat’snotthecasewithRhett.They’reperfecttogether,andIcan’twaittoseetheirinsanelybeautifulbabiesoneday.Thatis,ifSummerwilleverhammerdownaweddingdate.Becauseshe’dneverdothingsoutoforder.
“Hey,Willa.”JasperpopsupbesideRhett,severalinchestallerandlookinglikehewisheshewereanywhereelsebuthere.
Icranemyneckbacktomeethisblueeyes.Theyaren’tbrightandsparkly,they’redeepanddark,almostnavy.“Goodlord,whataretheyfeedingyouGrizzlyboys?Somehow,Imissedyoubeingthistall.”Hemustbeatleastsixfootfour.
Hesmiles,butthere’ssomethingpinchedaboutit.“Seemstobeathingforgoaltendersthesedays.I’mluckyIfitthebill,Iguess.”
Hisself-deprecatingresponseremindsmeofsomethingI’dsay—chalkingmyskilluptoluckormyhardworkuptogenetics.Thedifferenceis,he’sanNHLplayerandI’mabartender.
“Let’sheadtothebleachersandgetagoodseat.”RhettclapsJasperonthebackandgivesmeanod,andIfollowhim,Jasperhangingbackclosertome.IfeellikeI’mbeingescortedbybodyguards.Peoplegetoutofthewaywhentheseguyswalkthrough.
Theyalsostopandstare.Someevensayhi.
Whenweturnupthebleachersteps,Rhett’sheadswivels,scanningforaspot.Lukeisstillonhisshoulders,pointingsomewhere.Jaspermovesaheadofme,longlegstakingeveryotherstep.Butwhenheglancesbackandseesmefallingbehind,hestopsonalandingandthenoptstotakeeachstep.Hedoesn’tsayanything,butIknowhe’sacutelyawareofusallstayingtogether.It’sbusyandthesecountryboysareprotectiveashell.
OnlyprovenfurtherbythewayRhettmovesdownarowandJaspersendsmeinfirst,openingonearmwideandgesturingmethroughbeforefollowingbehindme.Whenwe’reseated,Lukeisbesidemeandwe’reflankedbytwotallmen.
Worsethingshavehappenedtomeinmylife.
LukeimmediatelytellsRhetthowhe’sgoingtoridebullswhenhegrowsup.RhettandIexchangealook,knowingthatCadewouldprobablykeeloverifthiseverreallyhappened.
“Doyouknowmuchaboutthisteampenningstuff?”IaskJasper,tippingmychindowntothering.
Henods.“Yeah.I’mactuallynotbadatitmyself.Weallpracticedalotaskids.”
“Really?”Mybrowquirks.
“Youdon’tgrowupatWishingWellRanchandnotlearnhowtopenandropeandcutandtossalasso.”
“Well,shit.”Ileanbackalittle,wrappingmyhandsaroundoneknee.“Colormeimpressed,JasperGervais.”
Hechuckles,eyescrinklingatthesides—whichdoesnothingbutremindmeofCade.
That’swherethesimilaritiesendthough.Jasperisquiet,butthere’sagentlenessabouthim.He’sintrospective.Therearethingsthatweighonhim.Yearsbehindabarhashonedmyeyeforpeoplewhocarryinvisibleweight.Hestrikesmeas…sad,maybe?
“Doyouknowanythingaboutit?”heasks,eyesfocusedonthebigdirtring.There’sapenwithabunchofcowsatoneendandasmallerpennearby.
“Notadamnthing.Iridefancyjumpinghorses.”
“Okay,sobasicallyateamofthreewillridein.Thosethirtycowsallhavenumbersonthem—threesetsoften—andthejudgeisgoingtocallarandomnumber.Thenthey’regoingtoseparatethethreecowswiththatnumberoutandherdthemdownintothesmallerpenontheoppositeside.”
Inodandturnmylipsdown.“Okay.”
Jasperhuffsoutasoftchuckle.“It’stherider’sjobtopredicthowtheymightslipaway.Betyou’rethinkingthatdoesn’tsoundsohard.Butcowsareprettysmart,andtheyliketosticktogether.Trickierthantheylook.”
Ilaughatthat.Thecowslookprettycutetomewiththeirbigwideeyesandroundwetnoses.
“You’llseetheminrealactionwhenCadepullsthecowsupinacoupleofweeks.”
“Oh?”Itiltmyhead.
“Yeah.DidCadenottellyou?It’slikeabigfamilyget-togetherattheranch.Weworkallthecows.Getthemvaccinated,checkthemoverforfall—eventhoughCadeisouttherecheckingonthemalmosteverydamnday.Thenthere’sabigmeal.Music.”Heshrugs,staringbackoutoverthering.“It’sfun.”
“Thatsoundsfun.ToobadBeauisaway.”
AsmiletugsatJasper’slips.“Yeah.It’sneverquitethesamewithouttheclassclown.ButIthinkVioletiscomingback.Idon’tthinkyou’vemettheirsisteryet.You’lllikeher.She’safancyracehorsejockey.Butit’sasurpriseforHarvey,sokeepthatonthedown-low.”
Iwinkathim.“We’lluniteinourfanciness,then,huh?”
Rhettmusthaveoverheardusbecausehesays,“Jesus.YouandSummerandVioletalltogetherisgoingtobeterrifying.TossinSloane?It’sgoingtobeamess.”
Jasperfreezesforthebriefestmoment.“Sloaneiscoming?”
“Yeah,Vitoldmetheotherday.She’spickingherupattheairport.”
Jaspercoverswhateverthatphysicalreactionwaswithachuckle.“Yeah.That’llbequitethecombo.”
“WhoisSloane?”
“Ourcousin,”RhettsaysrightasJaspersays,“Theircousin.Myfriend.”
“Dude.You’remybrother.She’sourcousin.Don’tbeweirdaboutthis.We’retoooldforthatshit.”Rhettshakeshishead.
“We’vestayedintouchinthecity.Youknowthat.I’mnotrelatedtoher.She’sagoodfriend.”
Rhettrollshiseyes.“Idon’tcareaboutyourlastname,Jas.You’reanEatonboy,likeitornot.”
Jasper’scheeksflushalittleandhislipscurveup.“Ilikeitjustfine,littleEaton.”
Myheadflipsbetweenthemastheysnipebackandforth.“Goodgod.Youguysareadorabletogether.”
“Sloaneisreallypretty,”Lukeannounceswhenhesurfacesforairoutofhisgiantbagofminidonuts.
“Oooh.”Inudgemyshoulderathim.“Doessomeonehaveacrush?”Theboyrollshiseyesbuthischeeksflame.
Ibitebackthelaughthreateningtoslipout.Lukedoesn’tneedmemakingfunofhimaboutthis,nomatterhowbadlyIwantto.
TheguyspokeatLuke’slittleshouldersuntilhisearsturnred.
“She’spretty,Lukey.Noonedeniesthat.Right,Jas?”
AlittletendoninJasper’sjawtwitches,buthenodsandsmilesallthesame.
“Look!”Lukepointstotheareabehindthemetalgates.“There’sDad!”
Andthereheis…warmingupandlookingsexyashell.Shouldersheldtall.Blackhat.Blackshirtwithsilversnaps.Blackchaps.Blackboots.EvenBlueberrymatcheshim.
“Iwonderifhehasafavoritecolor?”Iasktoachorusoflaughs.
“HelookslikeCowboyBatman,”Rhettsays.
“Ooh.IlikeBatman,”Lukeagreeswhilenodding.
Jasperchuckles.“Helooksnervousiswhathelookslike.ItoldhimIcouldshowhimsomementalexercisesIliketodobeforeagame,andhetoldmeto”—hisfingerspopupinquotations—“takemysoy-boy-woo-wooshitbacktothecity.”
Rhettcracksup.ButIfindmyselffeelingalittledefensiveofhim,eventhoughIknowthey’rejoking.EventhatdoessoundlikesomethingdickishthatCadewouldsay.
“He’sgotthis,”isallIofferbackwithafirmnod.
“WonderifBlueberrywillholdherownagainstthesehorses?She’sseriouslyoutclassedwiththefancypenninghorsesLancehaulsaround,”Rhettwondersoutloud.
ItossanelbowinRhett’sribs.“Hey!Wecleanedherup!Shelooksbeautiful.Stoppickingonthem.”
“IheardDadtellGrandpaitdoesn’tmatterhowmuchmoneyBlueberryisworthbecauseshe’sthebiggestbitchhe’severridden,andhermeanattitudealreadymakesherawinner.”
Idropmyfaceintomyhands,bodyshakingwithbarelyrestrainedlaughter.
“Jesus,Luke.Yougottastopeavesdroppingonpeople,”Rhettscolds,butthebiggrinonhisfacekillstheintimidationfactor.
Jasperpullsatthebrimofhishatagain,andI’mprettysureit’stohidehismistyeyes.
MygazefindsCadeagain,sittingsotall,chinheldsohigh.Heoozesconfidence,andIcan’thelpbutwonderifheactuallyfeelsit.
Acowboysayssomethingtohim,andhisheadtipsbackonafulllaugh,reinsheldinonehandwhiletheotherrestscasuallyonhisleg.It’snicetoseehimhavingfunafteryearsandyearsofbeingresponsible.
Idon’tregretmydareatall.
DoIwishI’ddaredhimtotakeoffmybathingsuitinstead?Sometimes.
Butheneededsomethingforhimselfmorethanheneededthat.SomethingwherehegetstobeCadeEaton,theindividual,andnotjustCadeEaton,thesingledadandtirelessrancher.
ImusthaveastupidsmileonmyfaceasIstarebackathimbecauseIfeelanelbownudgeagainstmine.“It’snicetoseesomeonelookingatCadelikethat.Defendinghimlikethat,”Jaspersays.“Liketheycanseehimforwhoheisratherthanthemancircumstancesforcedhimtobecome.”
“Gettingkindofdeepforarodeo,”Iwhisper,notwantingtoinvolveRhettinthisconversationbecauseitwilljustturnintoabigjoke.
Jaspershrugs.“Wouldn’tbewhereIamtodayifitwasn’tforhim.Wouldbenicetoseehimhappy.”
InodbecauseIagree.Itisnicetoseehimhappy.“Wherewouldyoubewithouthim?”
Jaspercontinuesstaringoutintothering,watchingthefirstteamrideinontheirhorses.Hesighsdeeply,andwithoutsparingmeaglance,hesays,“IfnotfortheEatonboys,I’dprobablybedead.”
***
WhenCadeentersthering,youwouldn’tknowhehasn’ttakenpartinarodeoinyears—possiblydecades.Helookslikeakingsittingonhishorse.Thick,roundshouldersandveinedforearms.Likeeveryonearoundhimshouldfalltotheirkneesinhispresence.
MycoretwingesatthethoughtoffallingtomykneesforCade.Iwishhewerelessresponsible.Thathe’dshirkallthosepressuresandjusttakeme.
I’dgetoffonwatchingsomeoneassteadyasCadecompletelyloseit.
Thejudgecallsoutthenumbersofthecowsfromtheirtable,andCadeandhisteammembersassessthecattle.Whenabuzzersounds,timestartscountingdownandthethreemenonhorsebackjumpintoaction.
There’ssomethingmesmerizingaboutwatchingCade.Heknowswhathe’sdoing.Sosure.Socoolandcollected.He’sinsanelycapable,andI’veneverfoundthatasattractiveasIdonow.
Capableinthering.
Capableattheranch.
Capablearoundhishouse.
Ican’thelpbutletmymindwanderintothegutter,wonderingifhe’sjustascapableinbed.Idecidehemustbe.Nomanwalksaroundunaffectedbypeople’sopinionsofhimunlessheknowshepacksaseriouspunch.
It’sthatquietconfidencethathasmecrossingmylegsandsqueezingmythighstogether,grippingtheedgeofthewoodenbenchbeneathme.
Hisforearmsrippleinthesunwhenhisglovedhandssqueezeonthereins.ThetendonsinhistannedneckflexasBlueberrycutsanddekes,herheaddrawnlow,eyeslaser-focusedonthecowstryingtogetpasther.
Shehasameanexpressiononwhatisnormallyasweetface.
It’shardtoseeCade’sexpressionfromunderthebrimofhishat,butIsuspectit’samirrorimageofhers.Allfocus.
I’mnotfamiliarwiththissport,butIamfamiliarwithotherequestriansports—enoughtoknowthatnothingaboutCadeandBlueberrylooksoutclassed.
They’relivingproofthatworkingarancheverydayisallthepracticetheyneed.Watchinghimworkgivesmegoosebumpsandhasmebrushingupanddownonmyarms,eventhoughit’swarmout.
BeforeIknowit,theyhavetwocowssquaredawayinthepenandjusttheoneisleftswervingaroundLance.
CadereachesforwardandswoopsahandoverBlueberry’smuscularneckbeforelopingtohisaid.
AndIwanttobethathorse.Iwanthishandsonme.Hisweightonmyback.
It’spathetictobejealousofahorse—buthereIam.
Ineedtogetoverthis.Stat.PiningisnotmyMO.Especiallynotoveraguywhodoesn’twantme.
“Oh!Thereshegoes!”Lukesquealsandshootsoutofhisseat,pointingdownintotheringwhereBlueberrycutslow,haunchesbracedasshespins,hermanetrailingintheairshequicklyleftbehind.
“Get’er,Cade!”Rhettshouts,uponhisfeettoo.
IwatchCade.He’spoetryinmotion—smoothandbalanced—asBlueberryheadsoffthecowandguidesitstraightintothepenwiththeothers.
Idon’tknowhowthescoringworks,soIdon’tknowifitwasgoodornot,butI’mimpressed,andthat’sgoodenoughformetoshootupandcheerwithLuke.Thelittleboybeamsupatme,beyondexcitedforhisdad.
“Wasn’thegood,Willa?”
“Luke,hewasthebest!AnddidyouseeBlueberry?She’sperfect!Wedidgood.”Wefist-bump,andIcatchRhetttossingaquestioninglookatme,butIignoreit.Idon’tknowhowmuchSummertellshim,andIdon’tneedeveryoneandtheirdogknowingI’mheadoverheelsforLukeandwellonmywaytobeingthesameforhisdad.
“Canwegobackandseehim?”
“Ofcourse,wecan.Youguyscoming?”IaskRhettandJasper.
“Forsure,”Rhettsays.“Let’sgogivetheoldmansomeasspatsforputtingonsuchagoodshow.”
“He’sprobablygoingtoneedamassagetomorrow,”Jaspertossesback.
“Willacandothatforhim,”Lukeslidesincasually.
Andweallfreeze.
Rhettlookslikeagoddamndogwithabone.“Ohyeah?HaveWillaandyourdadbeenswappingmassages?”
“No.Justbeds.”
Imakeachokingsound,andJasperholdsafistupoverhismouth.
“IgotastomachbugandCadegavemehisroomforonenightsoI’dbenearabathroom,”Iexplain.
“Yeah.Butwasn’themassagingyouthatnightyouguysdancedinthekitchen?”Lukesaysitsoinnocently,butmyeyesbugoutallthesame.
“It’s…that’s…”IstaredownatLuke.
“What?”
IfeelmychestflushasIwrapahandaroundLuke’sshoulderandturnhimawayfromhisuncle,whoisenjoyingthisfartoomuch.
MovingmyhandtocoverLuke’sear,IleantowardRhett.“Watchit,Eaton.Iknowwhereyoulive.”
“Yeah?Whatareyougoingtodo?Comeoveranddrinkabottleofchampagneonmybackdeck?BraidyourhairandhaveapillowfightwithSummer?”
“I’llbraidyourhair.ThenI’llcutthebraidoffandwearitasanecklaceforyoumockingme.”
Hechuckles.“You’revicious,Willa.Ilikethataboutyou.”
Ishakemyheadandturnaway,tryingandfailingtorestrainthesmileonmylips.
Wecutdownthebleachersandfollowthefencelinetothestagingarea.Theguysarestillontheirhorses,butbeersarecrackedandthey’reallchattingandchuckling.
TheminuteLukecatchessightofhim,hesurgesforward.“Dad!”
Cade’sfacebreaksintothebrightestsmileashereachesdownandhaulshisboyupintothetackinfrontofhim.Hegiveshimatightsqueeze,andmyheartclenchesinperfectsynchronicityasmyeyesfalltotheswellofhisbicepsandthewaytheyflex.
“Greatworkoutthere,”Isay,offeringasmallwavetotheotherguys.
RhettandJasperstrideinbehindme,offeringhandshakesthatclapwiththeirforceandbackslapsthatappearborderlinepainful.
“Youallcomingouttonighttocelebrateourwin?”Lanceaskswithasmile.
“Nah.Sorry,man,”Cadereplies,withabriefnodtowardthebackofLuke’shead.
“IcantakeLuke,”Rhettoffers.“Ineedanightinaftertravelingsomuch.”
Cadeshakeshishead,clearlynotwantingtogooutandusingLukeasanexcuse.
“Howaboutyou,Red?”Lancesays,andIvisiblyflinchbecauseI’vecometoassociatethatnicknamewithCade.Itsomehowfeelslikethat’shisnameforme.
WhenIpeekupatCade,hisjawisset,teethworkingwithagrimaceonhislips.
Iwavethecowboyoff.“Nah.I’mgood.”
“It’ssupposedtobeyourdayoff,Willa.Youshouldgo,”Cadebitesout.
IrearbackalittleasIstareupathim.Itfeelslikehejustslappedme.Likehe’stryingtopawnmeoffonsomeoneelse.Buthedoesn’tlookpleasedaboutiteither.
He’sanawfullotofworksomedays,andtherushofannoyanceathimhasmeshakingmyheadindisbelief.
Ithasmefeelingreckless.Alittlespiteful.I’mnotnecessarilyproudofthisfacetofmypersonality,butit’shereallthesame.IgetmadandIgeteven.
“Thanksforthepermission,Cade,”Isnip,watchingJasperfidgetwiththebrimofhishatagainwhileRhettstaresbackwithwideeyes.IturntoLance.“Sincethebossgivesithisstampofapproval,yes.Let’sgoout.”
Hesmilesback,givingoffsweet,boy-next-doorvibes.“Alright,cowgirl.Offwego.”Hepointsonelankyarminthedirectionofthetrailersparkedintheback.
Iswallowabiggulpofdryprairieairandobservethewayhisbodymovesinthetack.Notmytypeatall.
BecauseapparentlymytypeisabroodyassholecowboywhosehandsomefaceIwouldcurrentlyliketostompwiththeheelofmyboot.
ButthenI’dwanttokissitbettertoo.
It’sonlywhenIwalktowardLancethatIglanceovermyshoulder.CadeisstillsittingonBlueberryandhiseyesarelaser-focusedonme.
Iwaitforabeat.Hopinghe’llsaysomething.Tellmetostay.Askmetogohomewithhiminstead.Iloveitwhenhesayshomelikeit’sourhome.
Buthedoesn’t.
SoIgo.20Cade
Cade:Beagentleman.
Lance:Lol.Cade.Relax.YouknowI’lltakecareofyournanny.
Cade:OnehairoutofplaceandI’llkillyou.
Lance:Whataboutmultiplehairs?
Cade:Areyoufuckingkiddingmerightnow?Yougotadeathwish?
Lance:You’retheidiotwholethergo.
***
Ihatemyself.IwanttotakeitbackandthrowWillaovermyshoulderanddragherhomewithme.
Whereshebelongs.
ButIpushedheroffonaperfectlyniceguybecauseI’veconvincedmyselfthatfuckingthenannyisoutofbounds.
Itdoesn’ttakeapsychologisttoknowI’mtheissue.Myinsecuritiesaretheissue.IfIcouldn’tmakeasmall-townwoman—whowasmyageanddesperatelywantedme—happy,howthehellcanImakeawomanlikeWillahappy?
WhenTalialeft,itwasablowtomyego.IwishIcouldsayImissedher,butitwasmoreaboutthefactshechoseothermenoverme.ThatIlostsomehow.ThatIdidn’tmeasureup.Myheartwasn’tinit,butItriedmyassoffanyway.
ButwithWilla,myheartisinit.Idon’twantittobe,butitis.
God,Itriedsohardtodislikeher,becauselikingherwouldleadtoenjoyingher.Andafterweeksstuckinthesamehouse,watchingherbetheclosestthingmysonhaseverhadtoarealmother,I’mworriedenjoyingherhasturnedintocaringabouther.
AndIhavenocluewhattodowiththat.I’veneverproperlylovedawomanbefore.Neverwantedonelikethis.
“I’llgiveheronemorechanceatwater!”Rhettcallsashestalksawaywithabucket.
“Thanks!”Imumblebackbeforelettingoutaraggedsighandcheckinginsidemytruck.Lukeisalreadyasleepintheair-conditionedcab.Clearly,theexcitementofthedaycaughtupwithhim.Willaalwayskeepshimsoactivethathe’sdog-tiredattheendoftheday.
Willaistoogoodtous.
“Youwerekillerouttheretoday.”Jasperleansagainstthesideofmytrailer,staringatmewithasmallsmirkonhislips.“Didn’tevenlookthatoldfromwhereIwassitting.”
Ishakemyhead.“Justwaituntilyoustartsuckingathockey.Ihavesomanyold-manjokesstockedawayforyou.AndforBeau,whenhefinallyretires.”
“Youheardfromhim?”Jasperasks,lookinghopeful.
“Nah.Nothinglately.WishIknewwherethatdoofuswas.”
“Yeah.Notknowingistheworstpart.”Weshareananxiouslook.SendingBeauawaynevergetsanyeasieronanyofus.Mydadincluded.
“You’rereallydumb,youknow?”Hiseyesflitupasherapidlychangesthetopicofconversation.
Iscoff.“Isthistheopeninglineofanotherold-manjoke?”
“Notunlessgettingoldermeanssendingawayoneofthebestthingsthat’severhappenedtoyouwithanothermanwhoisn’ttoodumbtoseeit.”
Ifeelthetightnessinmychestandtheacheatthebackofmythroat.Idon’tknowifthatachemeansI’mangry,sad,orifit’sjustthespotwhereallthewordsIwanttosaygetcaughtinastranglehold.
“Gotsomethingtosay,Jasper?”
Hisheadtilts,hisblueeyestakingonaslightlyviciousexpression.TheoneIonlygetapeekoffrombehindhisgoaliemask.Theonethatmademewanttogetupatfivea.m.anddrivehispimplyteenagedasstopractices,becauseamanwithalooklikethatinhiseyedoesn’tlose.
HewasspecialandIknewit.
IneededanothersiblingtotakecareoflikeIneededaholeinthehead,butJasperwasmeanttobewithus,nothisshitparents.AndIwouldn’thaveitanyotherway.
“TheonlythingI’mgoingtosayisthatyou’vespentthelast,what,thirtyyearsmakingsureeveryoneelseishappy?You’vebeendutifulbeyondcompare.Reliable.Selfless.Responsible.Youdeservetobehappytoo,Cade.”
Responsible.Thatwordfollowsmearoundliketheplague.Ithauntsmydreamsatnight.
Fuckingresponsible.
HeturnshismassiveframeandamblesawaytowhateverfancySUVhedrivesnow.
“Youcomingtothereunion?”Icallout,nottotallysurewhattosaytohim.Theguyisquietallthetimeandthenhitsmewiththatshit.
“Wouldn’tmissit!”hecallsbackwithoutevenlookingatme.
“Youroping?”
Heletsoutadeep,amusedhum.“Nope,Iwouldneverdothat.”
Everyyearherefusestoadmitthathe’sgoingtorope.Somethingaboutridinghorsesbeingnotallowedinhiscontract.Alongwithmotorbikes,skydiving,andusingfireworks.
Buteveryyear,Isaddlehimahorse,andeveryyearhegetson.Noonetalksaboutit,butthekidcanstillthrowonehellofalasso.
RhettwatersBlueberryandthengivesherakindpat.“Waytoshowupthefancyhorses,Blue.That’stheEatonway.”
Iwatchthroughthewindowofmytrailer,butRhettcatchesme.“You’reluckyshetoleratesyou.”Hechuckshischinatmeashesaysit.
“Blue?”Iask.
MybrothershakeshisheadandturnsawaytotossthebucketofwateroutofthetrailerwhileIlatchupthedoors.I’mstillwaitingforhimtorespondtomyquestionbuttheassholedoesn’t.
Foralltheyearshe’sspentrunninghismouth,he’sgotnothingtosaytomerightnow.
“Seeyouathome?”IcalloutasheheadsovertoJasper’svehicle.
“Yup.”Hewavesoverhisshoulder.
“TellSummertokeepthosegoddamnsnakeskinbootstoherself!”Icall,hopingtoengagehim.I’dratherarguewithRhettthangethiscoldshoulder.He’sspenthisentirelifebitchingatme,andIwanthimtokeepgoing.
Whenhegetstothepassenger’ssidedoor,heturnsandglaresbackatme,afainttiptohislips.“Idon’ttellSummerwhattodo.Wouldn’tlistenifItried.That’sthebestkindofwomanifyouaskme.”HewinksandhopsinwithJasper.Theypeelawaywithawave,andI’msurethey’llgossiplikelittlebiddiesaboutmeontheirdrivebacktoChestnutSprings.
Theladiesintownhavenothingonthem.
Assholes.
LukeisstillasleepwhenIhopinthetruck,whichmeansit’sjustmeandmyviciousthoughtsonthedrive.
Meandmyregrets.
LukewakeswhenwehitthegravelroadsandbegstospendthenightwithGrandpa,likeapsychotoythatgotpluggedinforanhourafterrunningoutofbatteriesandisnowchargedandreadytoterrorizemoreadults.
Idrophimoff.LovehimasIdo,I’mnotinthemoodtoplayandbefun.
WhenIgethome,there’snolaughter.There’snomusic.There’snoWillaandLukedancingandsinginginthekitchenwhilecookiesbakeintheoven.
It’squiet.AndI’mlonely.
Deeplylonely.
AndangryIsentheraway.Angryshe’shavingfunwithanotherguyrightnow.Multipleguysprobably.
Idropmybagandstartcleaningtobusymyself,scouringcornersthatnoonewilleversee.Scrubbingtotakeoutmyfrustration,tokeepawaythejealousythatisscorchingmefromtheinsideout.It’sragingthroughmyveins,searingeverynerveending.
It’sfuckingconsuming.
Whenmyhandshurt,Istopandtakeashower.Mydickishard,butI’mtoopissedofftojerkit,sowhenIgetbackout,I’mmoreagitated.
Stompingaroundmyhouse,Iopttopourmyselfabourbonandgositonthefrontporch.IknowwhyI’mgoingthere,butIrefusetoadmitit.Itellmyselftheviewisgoodfromhere,butwhenItakeaseatonthetopstepandglancetotheside,Iseelittledoodlespaintedontherailings.Sunsandstars.HappyfacesandXOXO.
Andhearts.
Willadrewheartsonmyfrontporch,andnowI’mstucksittinghere,drowninginthethoughtthattherealreasonI’mouthereisthatI’mwaitingforhertogethome.
I’mtoosickwithjealousytodoanythingelse.21Willa
Summer:Areyouokay?
Willa:Yeah.Why?
Summer:IjustgotatextfromCadeasking.
Willa:YoucantellCadeI’mgettingrailedbytendudesatthebestgangbangofmylife.
Summer:Oof.EvenI’mnotthatbrave.I’llletyoutellhimthatyourself.
Summer:Heseemsstressed,Willa.Justlettingyouknow.
Willa:Good.
***
Isighinreliefwhenthecabhitsthegravelroad.Soclose.IwanttobehomelikenothingI’vequitefeltbefore.
ItfeltwrongbeingoutwithLanceandallhiscowboybuddieswithoutCadethere.ObjectivelyIhadfun,butmyheadwassomewhereelse.
Myheartwassomewhereelse.
AndasmadasIwantedtobethatCadethoughthecouldcheckinonmethroughmybestfriendwhenhehasmynumberandcouldeasilyhavetextedmehimself,thethoughtofhimbeingstressedaboutmysafetyleftapitinmystomach.
Iguessthat’swhyIpulledtheIrishgoodbyeandsnuckoutlikeachicken.Alltheguyswereperfectgentlemen,buttheywereheadingforalevelofwhippedupincelebratingtheirwinthatIjustdidn’twanttobe.
Thebarsceneexhaustsmenow,andasthecablightsupthedarkcountryroads,IrealizeI’mtornbetweenwantingthissummertobeoverbecauseIneedthespacefromCade,andneverwantingittoendbecauseIdon’twanttogobacktomylifeinthecity.
WecrossunderthebigwoodenpoststhatmarkwheretheWishingWellRanchlandbegins.
“Justdownthisroadandthenveerleft,”Idirectthedriver,whorespondswithasimplehum.I’mgratefulthathehasn’tbeenthechattytypeofcabdriverbecauseI’mallchattedoutfortonight.
WhenthelightsturnintoCade’sdrivewayandshineatthepicturesquerancher,mybodysagswithrelief.Thisisn’tmyhome,but…IfeellikeI’mhome.
Itapmycardonthecabbie’smachinetopaytheobscenelyexpensivetotalandstepout.Cadeissittingonthefrontstep,glaringatme.Hiselbowsarerestingonhiskneesandhe’sholdingaglasstumblerinhislargehands.
There’sanenergyabouthim.Helooksdangeroustonight,andwell,I’minthemoodforafight.
Asthecabpullsaway,Ipokethebear.“Waitingupforme,Daddy?”Ibatmyeyelashesandhikemypurseuponmyshoulder.
Iswearhegrowls.“It’slate.Youcouldhaveletmeknowwhenyouwerecominghome.It’sstillmyhouseyou’relivingin.”
“IguessIshouldstayatthemainhouseontheweekendsthen,justsoIdon’tinconvenienceyou,”Isnipeback,eventhoughIdon’twanttostayatthemainhouse.
Iwanttostaywithhim.
“MaybeyoushouldjustactlikeanadultandreportbacksothatIdon’thavetoworry…”hetrailsoffbeforeadding,“aboutyouwakingLukeup.”
Thefuckingballsonthisguy.
“NotwantingtowakeLukeupistheonlyreasonI’mnotreamingyououtrightnow,Eaton.Andifwe’regoingtotalkaboutactinglikeadultsmaybeyoushouldtextmeinsteadofmybestfriend.”
Hestands,brushinghishandsovertheassofhispants—lookingannoyinglygoodashedoes—beforeheturnshisbackonme.Thenhetossesoutoverhisshoulder,“Luke’swithmydad,soyoucangoaheadandhaveyourtantrumoverthatifyouneedto.”
Myjawdropsandmyvoicerises.“You’reworriedaboutmecominghomelateandwakinghimup,buthe’snotevenhere?”
Hecontinueswalking,butIdartafterhim,joggingupthestepsasItossmypurseonthedecknearhisbarefeet.“Cade!I’mtalkingtoyou.Whichislucky,consideringyoujusthandedmeovertoyourfriend,likeI’msomesortofgoddamntoytoshare.”
Thatstopshiminhistracks,themusclesinhisbackheldtaut.Everythingabouthisbodyscreamspredator.Itscreamsgetawayfromme,butI’mtooimpulsivetoheedasilentwarninglikethat.Istepcloser,closingthespacebetweenus,lettinghispinescentwraparoundme—lettingitintoxicateme.
“YouthinkI’mjustsomebimboyoucanpawnoffonfriends?”
Hespinsnow,allfireandbrimstone.“IthinkIcan’tgetyououtofmyhead,nomatterhowhardItry.Ithinkyou’retoodamntemptingandthatI’mtoodamncomplicated.Ithinkyousmelllikehim,andIcan’tfuckingstandthat.”
Iblink,lettingmyeyesscanhisredcheeks,theflareinhisdarkeyes,thewayhisnostrilsriseandfallundertheweightofhislaboredbreathing.
“Thegall.TheabsolutegalltocomplainthatIsmelllikethemanyoushippedmeoffwith,whowasnothingbutagentleman.Themanwho,underdifferentcircumstances,Imighthavehadfunwithbecausehe’safunfuckingguy.Butinstead,Ispentallnightstewingoveryou,CadeEaton.Youandyourgrumpyfuckingface,andyourstupidbroadshoulders,androundWranglerass.So…fuckyou.”Myfingerpokeshiminthecenterofhisrock-hardchest.“Anddoublefuckyouforbeingjealouswhenyouhavenoright.IfIsmelllikehim,yousmelllikebullshit.”
Ispinaway,butCadeisfaster.Hishandshootsoutandwrapsaroundmyarm,stoppingmeinmytracks.Ijoltaroundtofacehim,mybodydrawingintohissonaturally.
“KeeptalkinglikethatandI’mgoingtofuckthefilthrightoutofyourprettymouth.”
Iarchabrowathimasgoosebumpsbreakoutovermybody.Theairbetweenussizzles.“Excuseme?”
Heswipesthebackofhishandoverhismouth,likehe’spullingawaythefilterthat’sbeenthereallalong.“Youheardme,Red.YoukeepbarkingatmelikethatandI’mgoingtoputyouonyourknees,openthosestrawberrylips,andfuckyourfacejusttoshutyouup.”
Mymindwhirs.ThemanbeforemeisnotthesamemanI’vebeenlivingwiththispastmonth.Thisisanotherversionofhim.Aversionhe’shidden.AversionIcanworkwith.
AversionIlike
Thewordssoundharsh,butIknowCadewellenoughtoknowhiswordsareoftenfrustrated,buthishandsarealwaysgentle.
Holdinghisburningglare,Islowlydroptomykneesinfrontofhim,tippingmychinuptoseeeveryflickerofemotioninhiseyes.“Ifuckingdareyou.”
Amuscleinhisjawpops.Iknowhe’sstandingontheprecipice,buthe’sholdinghimselfback.I’mnotsomevirginallittlegirl.Iknowwhenamanwantsme.
AndCadeEatonwantsme.
Hejustneedstolethimselftakeme.
SoIgivehimanudge.Ilickmylipsandopenmymouthwide,tongueheldflat,eyesmeldedtohis.Themostbrashinvitationintheworld.
“Fuck,”hemuttersandstepsforwardwithauthority,allshredsofrestraintseemingtosnapandfallaroundus.Mycoreclenches,andmychestalmostvibrateswithanticipation.Whenherunsonebroadpalmoverthebackofmyheadwhilestandingaboveme,Ihumwithpleasure.
“Youarefuckingtorture,WillaGrant.”Hedropstheglassonthedeckbehindhim,anditlandswithaheavythud,miraculouslynotbreakingagainstthewood.Andthenthepadsofhisfingersareonmylips,tracing,touching,pressing
I’veservedmyselfuponaplattertohim,buthe’snotdivinginyet.He’ssavoring.Andbasedonthebulgeinthefrontofhispants,helikeswhathesees.
“Fuckingtorture.”Heslipstwofingersintomymouth,runningthemalongmytongue,justtotheedgeofwhereIfeellikeImightgag.“Amancanonlytakesomuchbeforehesnaps.”
Mylipswraparoundhisdigitsinresponseasmypalmsflattenagainsthisjeansforbalance,eyelidsdroppingslightlyasIdo.I’mfeelingalittletoovulnerable,alittleoutofmyleague—alittleshy.ButthisiswhatIwanted.
Iwantedhimtosnap.
“Suck,Willa.Provetomeyou’regoodenoughforthejobandmaybeI’llgiveyoumycock.”
Imoan,hiswordsbothdruggingmeandangeringme.Thechallengeinwhathe’ssaidisclear,andI’veneverbeenonetobackdownfromachallenge.
Itakeitandbraceagainsthismuscularthighs,slidingmylipsupanddownthelengthofhisfingers.Icanalmosttastethebourbononthem.
“Eyesonme,baby.Let’sseeit.”
HeatcrawlsalongmycheeksasIforcemyselftolookupathim.Hisgazeisdownrightmagnetic.Hestealsthebreathfrommylungsandtakesitforhimself.
Hisfingerstangleinmyhair,strokingatmyscalpwhileIslidemymouthupanddownhisfingers.
Whenhemurmurs,“That’smygirl,”whilelookingmeintheeye,nothingintheworldhaseverfeltmoreright.
Mygirl
Iswirlmytonguearoundhisfingers,andhegroans,beforegrippingmyhairandworkingmyheadthewayhewants.
Settingthepace.
Igivemyselfovertohim,goingsoftinhishands,feelingmysalivabuildaroundmylipsasIdo.
“Fuck.Willa.”Mynamesoundssogoodonhislips,thewayhegrowlsit—feralandpossessive.
Theboardsoftheporchbiteatmyknees,eventhroughthejeansI’mwearing.Andwhenhepullshisfingersfrommymouthwithalewdpop,thelastfewthreadsholdinghimtogethersnapbeforemyeyes.Icanalmosthearthepingingofthemflyingapartlikeapoppedguitarstring.
IsmilelikethegoddamnCheshireCat.
Becauseaboveme,Cadeisbreathingheavilyandfranticallyunbucklinghisbelt.Fumblingwithhisbutton.Rippingathiszipper.Andwhenhisthickcocktentsthefabricofhisboxerbriefs,myhandsfreeit.
Rightintheopen,onhisfrontdeck.
Hepullshisshirtoffone-handed,andallatonce,I’mlickingmylipsandrunningmypalmsoversmooth,hotskin.Almostrevelinginit.Sighingatthefeel.
“Fuck,Red.You’redesperateforit,aren’tyou?”Hishandisbacktocombingmyhair,andIcanfeelmywetsalivaonhisfingersashisoppositehandtracesthebottomlineofmyjaw.
Iswallowaudiblyandlickthebeadofpre-cumglisteningontheheadofCade’scock.Cade’smassivecock.Myeyesshimmerwithanticipation.LikeChristmasmorning.LikeI’mgoingtogettoplaywithawholenewtoy.“Yes.”Ipressakisstothetip.“Butonlyforyou.”
Hisheadtipsbackonagroan,exposinghisthroatandallthedarkstubbleoverhisAdam’sapple.Ithinkheneededtohearthat,andIdidn’tevenrealizeitwastrueuntilthewordsleftmymouth.Hishandsarestillonmyhead,holdingmyskullreverently,asIwrapmylipsaroundhimforthefirsttime.Smoothskin,softmusk,fingerstangled.
It’ssensoryoverloadasIslidemymouthdownhislength,tortuouslyslow,breathingthroughmynoseandtakinghimasfarbackasIcan.
WhenIthinkIcan’tgoanyfurther,Iswallowandtakejustalittlebitmore.
“Jesus,Willa.”Ismileatthebreathlessstateofhisvoice.CadeEatonisabouttolearnthatthetricktoagoodblowjobisenjoyinggivingthem.AndIloveit.
Idon’tcareifI’mtheoneonmykneeswhilehetowersaboveme.Thepowerisminerightnow.Thepowertomakehimfallapartismine.AndI’mdrunkwithit.
MytongueswirlsasIbobslowly,onehandtwistingatthebaseofhimwhiletheotherslipsbacktocuphisballs,fingersworkingintandemwhilemylipssuctionhard.
Imoanonhiscock,andhisgriptightensinmyhair.“Careful,baby.It’sbeentoolong,andyoufeeltoogood.I’mtryingtomakethislast.”Hisbarelyrestrainedvoicehuskswithalighttremor.
Ilovethesoundofit.Iturgesmeon.Ifhethinksthisisaone-timething,he’sconfused.I’mrealizinghisexdidabiggernumberonhimthanIfirstimagined.IwonderasItakehimfurtherbackintomythroatifhe’salotmoreinsecurethanheletson.
IwonderifIcanshowhimhowirresistibleheistome.Itakeonehandandtrailitoverhishipbone,dragginganailoverthelinethatcutsjustbelowwherehisabsstart.Movingupthetrailofhairtowardhisabdomen,Isplaymyhandoverhisstomach,feelingallthelinesandridgesthere.
WhenIglanceupathim,hishoodedeyesarelockedonmyhand.Ashecatchesmewatchinghim,hiseyessoftenandhebrushesthepadofhisthumbovermycheek.“Youlooksofuckingprettylikethis,Willa.”
IgroanandmylashesflutterasIfeelasurgeofwetnessbetweenmythighs.
“Amouthfullofmycock.”Heguidesmyheadinarhythmhelikes,andIremovemypalmfromhisbase,optingtoexplorehisbody.Heseemstolikethat,andmorethananything,Iwanttomakehimfeelgood.
Iwanthimtowantmore.
“You’vebeendreamingaboutthis,haven’tyou?”
Istareupathimandnod,suckinghimevenharder.
“That’swhyyou’vespenteverysingledayhereundermyroof,drivingmeabsolutelyinsane.Teasingmewiththatperfectass,thosegoddamnnipples,andyoursilkyhair.Evenyourlaughmakesmehard.Didyouknowthat?”
Imoan,lovinghearingthatIdrivehimcrazy.Glidingmyhandsoverhisribs,IslidethembehindhimandtrailoverhismuscularassthewayI’vewantedtoforalongtime.
Isqueezeandhepicksupthepace,fingersgrippingmyscalpashispalmscovermyears.Asoothingwhitenoisefillsmyhead,andIstareupathim,turningmyselfovertothewildlookinhisdarkeyes.
Hesaidhewasgoingtofuckmymouth,andthat’swhathedoes.Iholdonfortheride,butitdoesn’tlastlong.Soonhisthruststurnlongerandharder,ratherthanfastandfrantic.Hispinchedeyesremainlaser-focusedonmine.
“Willa,I’mgoingto…”Hehuffsoutabreathashetrailsoff,tryingtopullawayfromme.Tryingtopullout.ButIyankhimcloser,stretchmyneckandgivehimalittleshakeofmyheadasIwidenmyeyesathim.
Hismouthpopsopen,eversoslightly,andIwatchthetipofhistonguedartoutoverhislips.“Fuck.”
AndthenIgettowatchhimcomeapart.Watchhimgivein.Anditfeelslikewinning.
Hiscockjerksandpulsesinmymouth,andIswallowasitdoes.Ikeepmyeyesonhisface,evenwhenhisfluttershut.Evenwhenhishandsgosoftinmyhairandswitchfromgrippingtostroking.Togentletouches.
Whenhiseyesflickopenagain,Idrawaway,feelinghimsoftenandhearinghisbreathingevenout.
“Christ,Willa,”hebreathesashepullshispantsbackupandIwipeatmylips.
Hecrouchesdown,liftingmeupwithhim,andcrusheshismouthagainstmine,clearlynotcaringaboutwhereit’sbeen.Becausethekississearing.Heartfelt.Hislipsaresoftagainstmine,andwhenItanglemyhandsbehindhisneck,Icanfeeladamplayerofperspiration.
Hepullsawayandrestshisforeheadagainstmine.“I’msorry,”hewhispersagainstmylips.
“Youdon’tneedtoapologizeforthat.IthinkIhadalmostasgoodofatimeasyou.”Ichucklequietly,feelinghisbreathagainstmydamplips.
Hisforeheadrollsalongmine.“No.I’msorryIletyougoouttonight.”
Myeyesroll,butneitherofusmoves.Stillstandingoutintheopenonthefrontporch.Stilltrailingourhandsovereachother.“Youdon’tletmedoanything,Eaton.”Iarchabrowathim,andhepullsmeintoahug,hissteelyarmswrappingmeuptight.
Anditfeelssodamngood.
“I’msorryIdidn’tbegyoutocomehomewithme.”
Inuzzleagainsthim,thrivingonthatspecifictypeofapology.“Youdobegwell,”Ijoke.
Heturnshisheadandpressesakissintothecrookofmyneck.“Idon’tknowwhatI’mdoing.”
“Welcometomylife,”Ijokeagain,tryingtolightenthemoodorjustquelltheslightpangofdiscomfort.
Cadesqueezesmetighterandpressesakisstomyshoulder.“IpromisedmyselfIwouldn’tcrossthislinewithyou.ThatIwouldn’tcomplicatethings.ThatIwouldn’ttangleusuplikethiswhenyou’releavingsosoon.”
Apitformsinthebottomofmystomach,andinsecuritiesleaplikefishoutofwater,becausestandinginhisarmsdoesn’tfeelcozy.Itfeelslikeacage.Itfeelslikeanapology.Andallmywallsshootbackup.Ifeltlikeagoddesstwominutesago,andnow,there’sasenseofdreadcreepingin.
Ipullaway,givinghimaflatsmileandsortofpattingathisshoulders.“Well,let’sjustnotcomplicateit.”
Hegiveshisheadalittleshake,seemingsurprisedbymyresponse.Iturnandwalktowardthefrontdoor.
AmIbeingdramatic?Maybe.Probably.ButmypridecanonlytakesomanyhitswhereCadeEatonisconcerned.Hecanonlyturnmedownsomanytimesormakeexcusesaboutwhythiscan’thappenbeforeItakeitpersonally.
Complicated.
Ithinktheonlythingmakingthiscomplicatedishim.
OnceIreachtheprivacyofmybedroom,Ishutthedoorandstepintothespace,suckinginabigbreath.
Flickingthebedsidelighton,IletmymindwandertostupidCadeEaton.Big-dicked,strong-biceped,fuckinghandsome-faced,complicatedassholethatheis.
Thedoorburstsopenbehindme.IturnandseeCadestandingthere,handsfistedathissides,inunbuttonedjeansandstillnogoddamnshirt,whichisreallyjustthecruelestkindofjoke.Hisshoulderstakeupalmosttheentiredoorframe,andhisexpressionisoneIrecognizeashisangryscowl.
“Whatdoyouthinkyou’redoing?”hebarksout.
Isniffandlookawaybecausehe’sintimidatingrightnow.“Makingsurethingsdon’tgettoocomplicatedforyou.Obviously.”
“Woman.”Healwayssoundssosnarkywhenhecallsmewoman.“Areyouinsane?YouthinkIwentthreeyearswithoutlayingmyhandonasinglepersontobreakmystreakwithoneasexceptionalasyouandthenletyoujustwalkaway?”
Threeyears?
“I—”
“No.”Heholdsupahand.“I’mgoingtotalk.Andyou’regoingtocloseyourmouthandlisten.Becauseifyou’dletmefinishwhatIwassayingoutthere,youwouldn’thavespentasinglemomentinherethinkingIdon’twanttocomplicatethingswithyou.IsaidIpromisedmyselfIwouldn’tcomplicatethiswithyou.You’reyoung,you’rerestless,andI’mtruthfullytoofuckingjealoustodoanythingcasualwithyou.”Herunsahandthroughhishair,givingtheendsafrustratedlittletug.“I’vewatchedyouwithmyson.I’vewatchedyou,period.I’velongedforyou.IwentcrazytonightthinkingofyououtwithLance.IknowinmybonesthatIwon’twanttoletyougoattheendofthesummer,butI’lltakewhatIcanget.Becauseyou’retoofuckingspecialtopassup.Fuckmypromises,that’swhatIwasgoingtosay.”
Mythroattightensashestaresdownatthatbrasslineseparatingmyspacefromhis.Arbitraryandyet,symbolic.Likewhenwecrossthatlinewe’renotgoingback.
“I…”
Heholdsahandupagain.“No.Idon’twanttotalkanymore.Unlessit’stohearyouexplainwhyyouthinkI’dletyousuckmeoffandthennotreturnthefavor.Whatkindofassholesyoubeendating,Red?”
MylipsrolltogetherasIwatchhimcrossthatlineintomyspace.
Itfeelslikeourspace.
“Now,getonyourback.IwanttowatchyousquirmwhileItasteyouforthefirsttime.”22Cade
“Soyou’reallowedtotalk,butI’mnot?”Herarmscrossoverherchest,butthere’sasmallsmileonherface.That’sthelookIlike,notthestrickenoneshewalkedawaywithmomentsago.
Foragirlwithsomuchattitude,shehasaseriouscaseofself-doubtonherhands.OneIintendtoclearupforher.
“Ilovelisteningtoyoutalk,Red.”Iprowlintoherroom,notmissingthewayshe’ssqueezingherthighstogether.IsmirkbecauseIknowshegotoffongivingthatblowjob.Bestblowjobofmylifebecausenogirlhaseverbeenthatintogivingone.“Butwhenyousaythingsthataren’ttrue,Igetpissedoff.Thingsyoumakeupinyourprettyheadandtossaroundintherelongenoughthatyoubelievethem.”
Shestepsbackward,eyesflaringasIfollowherintotheroom.“Youthinkyoudon’tdothattoo?”
Iignoreherquestion.Idothattoo.ThedifferenceisIrealizeI’mdoingit.“Youhavenoideahowspecialyouare.Howinsaneyoumakemefeel.HowIhaven’tstoppedthinkingaboutyousincethemomentIlaideyesonyou.”
Sherollshereyesatme,andIpointather.“Thatrightthere.Don’tdoit.Theonlyappropriateresponseis,Thankyou.”
Herlegsbumpintothebed,andshedropstosit,bitingatherlipinthemostdistractingway.Istepbetweenherlegs,sighingatthenearnessandtheheatofherbodyagainstmine.Aftersolong,itfeelssofuckinggoodtobethisclosetosomeone.
Especiallytoher.
“Letmehearit,baby.Saythankyou.”
Sheclearsherthroat,eyesdartingaway.“Thankyou.”
“Goodgirl.”Igripherchinandturnherfaceuptome.“That’swhatyou’regoingtosaytomeallnight.EverytimeItellyousomethinggood.Areweclear?”
Ashiverrunsoverher,evenasIseethatsparkofdefianceinhereye.TheoneIadmire.Iwanttoturnthatsparkintoawholedamnfiresothisgirlgoesoutanddoeswhatshewantswithherlife.
“Fine.”
IletasmiletouchmylipsasIstaredownather.“Good.”
“Whyareyousmiling?It’screepy.Youneversmile.”
Ishakemyheadather.“Ismile.Youjustmissthembecauseit’swhenI’mstaringatyourass.AndI’msmilingnowbecauseI’mreallylookingforwardtothis.”
Oneofhershapelybrowsarches,andherglaremovesdownmytorsotomycrotch.“Yeah.Icanseethat.”
“Ithinkyoumeantthankyou.”Slidingmyhandalonghercheekandintoherhairatthebaseofherneck,Icrouchdownandkissher,tippingherheaduptome.AdeeprumbleemanatesfrommychestwhenIfeelhowsoftsheisinmyhands.Howwilling.Howeager.
Herplushlipsaresupplebeneathmine,andherwarmhandsaretentativeasshebringsthembacktomytorsoandstartsexploring.
Gooseflesheruptsovermyskineverywhereshemovesthem,andIrevelinhertouch.IntheyearsI’vespentabstinent,Ididn’timagineiteverfeelingthiselectric,thisdeeplynecessary—natural,likeIdon’tevenhavetotrywithher.There’sjustthisspark.Onewecan’tsee,butit’sbeenburningbetweenusfromdayone.
“Thankyou,”shemurmursagainstmylips,andItakethatopportunitytoslipmytongueintohermouth.Toclaimherandtakemytimewithit.Notlikethefrantickissinthehaybalesthatendedinembarrassment.Notliketheblowjobedgedinfrustrationonthefrontporch.
Justaprivateroomandafullnightaheadofus.ExactlywhatIneed—whatweneed.
Ourkissesarelanguid.Noteethclash,neitherofusfumble.It’sbeenalongtimesinceIkissedsomeone,butIrememberearlykissesbeingawkward,havingtofigureoutarhythm,thegiveandtakethatdidn’tquitematchupright.
ButwithWilla,that’snotthecase.
Everythingfeelsright.Exceptfor…
“You’rewearingtoomanyclothes,baby,”Isay,pullingbacktorestmyforeheadagainsthersasIreachdowntothewaistlineofherjeansandpluckatthecottonshirttuckedinthere.
Inresponsesheleansbackandliftsherarmsupaboveherhead,staringmeintheeyelikethisissomesortofchallenge.Igiveherasmallgrin,likingthewayshelookswithherlipsallpuffyandwet.Hercheeksallpink.Herhairallmussedfrommyhandsinit.
Fuck,anothermantouchingherhairtonightwassomethingthatspecificallycrossedmymind.Idon’tknowwhyIgothungupontheimageofsomeoneelse’sfingerstrailingthroughhershinycopperstrands.Someonewithsofter,moremanicuredhands.Someonewithmoremoneytotheirname.Someonewithmoretoofferher.
Idropmygazetowheremyhandsaretouchingher,wheretheywraparoundherwaist,rightonthatmilkyskinIwastryingtocatchapeepofthefirstdayshesteppedonmyproperty.“Isthisokay?”Iask,wantingtobecertainI’mnotdoingsomethingstupid.
“Yes,”shehissesoutalmostdesperately.
AsIpushmyhandsuphertorso,theshirtbunches.It’slikeunwrappingapresent,revealingsilkyskinfollowedbyasimplenudebrawithalaceoverlay,titsroundandfirmabovethelineofthecupthatcutsacrossthem.Ipeeltheshirtoverherheadanddropahandtoflicktheclasponherbra,pullingitawayandtossingitonthefloorbesideus.
Itakeastepbacktoappreciateher.She’sproppedherhandsbehindheronthebedandisgazingatmewithwidegreeneyes,alittleintoxicatedlooking—butnotonalcohol.Herbreastsarefullandheavy,duskypinknippleserectandpointingrightatme.Littlesilverstudsadorneitherside,sparklinginthelight,andIwanttofuckingplaywiththose.
Iwanttoplaywitheverything.
IfWillaistheplayground,Iwanttofuckingplay.Period.
“Youarebeautiful.”Myeyesraceoverherform,illuminatedonlybythewarmlightofthesmalllampbesideherbed.“Fuckingperfect.Iknewyouwouldbe.Butgoddamn,Willa.You’realmosttoomuch.”
Theblushonhercheeksspreadsdownherneckandontoherchest.Beingnakedinfrontofmedoesn’tmakeheruncomfortable,buthearingmywordsdoes.Iclickmytongueatherandwhenshelooksbackmyway,Ipinherwithascowl.
“Thankyou.”Hervoicewobbles,butshegetsitoutallthesame,lookingfiery,chestheavingundertheweightofherslightlylaboredbreathing.
Ismirkatherandsherollshereyesbutherlipstipup.
Withadeepchuckle,Idroptomykneesinfrontofherandreachforthechainbeltloopedintoherjeans.“Youwantmetokeepgoing?”
Shescoffsplayfully.“Howmanytimesdoesawomanneedtopropositionyoubeforeyouknowshewantsyoutokeepgoing,Eaton?Like,doyoureallyneedtohearmekeepsayingitoutloud?”
Myeyesdrop,andmyhandsshapeherwaist,slidinguptothebaseofherbreasts.Ibreathedeeplyaroundtheheavythudoftheblowshejustunknowinglydelivered.Whensomeoneelsechoosesothermenoveryou,Ithinkyoudoneedtohearit.Attheveryleast,Iwanttohearit.BecauseWillawantingmeseemswhollyunlikely.Totallycrazy.Plus,hearinghersayshewantsitmightbethesexiestthingintheworld.
Iliftmychinandgazeintoherbrightemeraldeyes.“Yeah,Red.Ireallyneedtohearyousayitoutloud.”
Herlipspopopen,andrealizationflashesinhereyesasshesitsupstraighter,handsreachingforme.Whenherfingerscurvebehindmyearsandherpalmsraspagainstmystubble,myeyesfluttershut.
Touchingherfeelsincredible.Butbeingtouched?Fuck.Ididn’trealizehowbadlyIwasmissingthis.
Hernailsrakeagainstmyscalp,andthistimeshebendsdowntokissme,sogently,socarefully.
Untilshebitesdownonmybottomlip,squeezesmyheadinherhands,andsays,“CadeEaton,ifyoustopundressingme,Iwillabsolutelylosemymindandhideinmybedroomeverynighttouchingmyselfwhilethinkingabouthowfuckinghotsuckingyourcockonthefrontporchwas.”
“JesusChrist,woman.”Ipullbacktolookherintheeyewithalittleskipinmyheart.“Iwon’tstop.ButcanIcomewatchthatshowsometime?”
Theapplesofhercheeksgoroundasshesmirksbackatme.“Definitely.”Andthenshe’skissingmeagain,ratchetinguptheurgency.Herhandsgripmyneck,whilemineworkoverherbreasts.They’resoftandfirmallatonce,areminderofherageifIletmyheadwanderthatway—butIdon’t.
Instead,IjustenjoythelittlemewlingnoisesshemakeswhenIbrushmythumbsoverhernipples.WhenIpinchthem,Ipushmytongueintohermouthandenjoythewayherhipsrockinmydirection,likeshejustcan’tgetenough.
It’sempowering.It’slikeafuckingdrugseeinghowbadlyshewantsme.AndIbreakthekissonlybecauseI’mnotdoneplayingwiththerestofherbody.
IknowI’llhavelotsoftimetokissherbecauseIdon’tplantostopsolongasshe’swillingtoletmehaveher.
“Thesefuckingtitshavefeaturedinmydreamsforweeks,”Isay,slidingmymouthdownherthroat,pressingkissestothelittleindentatthebaseofitandworkingmywayalonghercollarbone.Alicktoherslendershouldersendsashiverthroughherentirebody,andIsmiletomyselfbecauseherreactionsarejustsodamnsatisfying.
“Thankyou.”Herheadtipsback,whichmakesherbreastspressoutinmydirectionlikesomesortofspecialoffering.
Itfeelslikeeverythingisdialedupazillionnotches.Everyreactionisstrongersomehow.Everyfeelingmagnified.Ican’texplainitandmaybeIdon’tneedto.MaybethelessonhereisthatIjustneedtorelaxandletmyselfenjoysomethingforonce.
BecauseIfullyintendtoenjoyWillaGrant.
Mymouthlatchesontoonenipple,andshecriesoutinstantly.“Ah!Don’tstopdoingthat,Cade.”
Isuckharderandherbodywrithes.Myoppositehandthumbsattheothernippleinasteadyrhythm,themetalpiercingaddingaweighttoit.Mycocksurgespainfullyagainstmyjeans,andshe’snoteventotallynakedyet.
“I’mafuckinggonerforyou,Red.Watchingyousquirm?Listeningtoyoumoanmyname?WhatamIsupposedtodonow?”Itrailmytongueacrosshersternumbeforelatchingontotheoppositebreast,strummingatherwetnipple.
“Fuckme.You’resupposedtofuckme.”Herwordsarebreathless,edgedindesperation,andIlovethesound,thevibrationinherchestthatIcanfeelagainstmylips.
Idropmyhandandpressitagainsttheapexofherthighs.Eventhroughherjeans,Ifeeltheheat.IknowwhenIpeelalltheselayersback,she’sgoingtobefuckingsoaked.
Forme
“Isthatso?”Ileanbackalittleandpressmythumbhardagainstthedenim.“Righthere,Red?”
“Yes.”Shethrowsherheadback,hertitsglisteningwithmysaliva,fingersfistedinthesheets.
Irubfirmcirclesonherjeans,chucklingdarklyatthewayherhipsgyrateagainstthepressure.
“Cade,”herlipspartonmyname,hertonguedartingouttowetthem.“God.”
“He’snothererightnow,baby.It’sjustme.AndI’mdoneaskingnicely.I’mreadytotake.”Ipullonenippleintomymouth,swirlingmytonguearoundthemetalbeforeclampingdownonit.Hercorrespondingwhimperislightandairy,justlikeherconsuminglaugh.
Iwrapherloosehairaroundmyfist,pullhercloseandwhisperagainstherear.“I’mgoingtopeeltheseskin-tightjeansoffofyouandenjoyatasteofwhatIalreadyknowisgoingtobeaperfectlittlecunt.”Atremorracksherbody,butIkeepgoing.“Makeyoucomeinmymouth.Andbeforeyou’veevenrecoveredfromthat,I’llshovemycockintoyou,makeyouscreammynameloudenoughthey’llhearyouonetownover.”
Willa’seyesflareinsurpriseandshenods.
“Isthatwhatyouwant,Red?Letmehearyousayit.”
Challengeblazesinhereyes,herchinjuttingoutstubbornly.“Takeitthen,Cade.Tasteme.Fuckme.FuckmesohardI’llforgetmyownname.I’veneverwantedanythingmore.I’myourstonight.”
Mychestrumblesinsatisfaction,andmyhandsworkatthebuttononherjeans.“AndwhenI’mfinished,whatwillyousay?”
“God,”shebreathesoutsoquietlyIalmostmissit,hereyesfixedonwheremyhandsarenowmakingquickworkofherpants.“Iknewyouhadbigdickenergy,butthisissomethingelse.”
Iyankatherjeansandsheeagerlyliftsherhips.“Whatareyougoingtosay,baby?”
“Thankyou,”isherbreathyresponse.
“That’smygirl,”IgritoutasIpeelherpantsoff,dustingkissesdownherthighs,feelinggoosefleshpopupundermylipswhereIdragmystubbleacrosshertenderskin.WhenIgetherjeanspastherknees,theycatchonthetallsnakeskinbootsshe’swearing.
“Thesefuckingboots,”Igrumble,movingbackandgrabbingthemattheheeltoremovethem.AndthenIstop.
“Doyoulikethem?”Shedoesthatlittlesignaturearchthingwithhereyebrow.Ifuckinglovewhenshedoesthat.Asilentchallenge.
“I’lllikethemawholelotbetterwhenIgetthemoffsoIcanseeyounakedandspreadoutforme.”
Shehums.“Summertoldmetheyweregoodluckwhenshelentthemtome.”
ItossonebootbehindmeandreachfortheotherasIshakemyhead.“Youwomenarewitches.Idon’tevenwanttoknowwherethesebootshavebeen.Getthemthefuckoff.”
Willagiggles,neverputoffbyharshwords.Shepointshertoe,andthebootslidesoff,whichisgoodtiming,becausehernakedandlaughingisanaphrodisiac.
Thejeansaregone.
Thesocksaregone.
“You’rewearingpanties,”Igrumble,staringathernudelacefull-cutbootyshorts.Perfectcurves.Mycocktwitches.
Shenibblesatherlip.“Youkeeptellingmeto.”
“Red,metellingyoutodothings”—Ireachforwardandtugatthetopsotheywedgebetweenherpussylipsandsithighonherhips—“hasalmostneverworked.”
“SomedaysIdo.SomedaysIdon’t.Gottakeepthingsinteresting.Plus,Ikeepwaitingforyoutocheck.Kindofhopingyou’lldoleoutsomedisciplineifyoucatchmewithoutthem.”
“Fuck.”Irollmylipstogether,eyescaughtonthefabricdisappearingintoherslit.MyhandtrembleswhenIreachforward,andIstillitbyrubbingmyfingersoverthewetfabricthatseparatesus.Igroanwhenshesighsandspreadsherthighswider,palmsstillproppedbehindheronthemattress.“Lieback,baby.Iwantyoutorelax.”
“Idon’tknowhowI’msupposedtorelaxwithyoubetweenmylegs,Cade,”shesays.Butshealsoflopsontoherback.
“Isthatathank-you,Red?”
Shechuckles,butit’sallraspy.Deepinherthroat,rightwhereIwasnotsolongago.
“Ishouldpinchmyselfforhowunbelievablethisis.”Myoppositehandgripsherankle,whereIpressakisstotheprotrudingbone.Evenherfuckinganklesarepretty.“Howunbelievableyouare.”Ipropthatfootontheedgeofthebedandpushherlegopen.
“Thankyou,”shesays,hipsliftingurgentlyasshedoes.
“Youstillwantmetofuckyou,Red?”
“Yes.”Herhandsroamhertits,pluckingathernipples.
“Begforit,baby.”Ipressmythumbtoherclitandwatchherheadpopupoverthehillsofherbreasts.
“Pardonme?”Hereyesgowide.
Itwasn’tsolongagoshetoldmetobeginthisexactroom.Thistime,I’mrunningtheshow.Nother.“Beg,Willa.”Mythumbtrailsdown,andIpressintoherjustslightly,seeingherlegstrembleasthelaceraspsoverhersoft,wetpussylips.
Herheadflopsbackdownandherfingerstwistonhernipples.“Pleasetakeme,Cade.”
Herbackarches,andIdragafingeralongthelacethat’sskimmingtheedgeofherpussywhilecontinuingtopressmythumbin,soakingthefabric.
Legsspreadingevenfurther,herbodyshudders.“Ineedit.Ineedyou.”Ithrobpainfullyagainstmyjeansatthewaysheemphasizesthewordyou.“Ineedyousobadly,Cade.Please.Pleasefuckme.”
Ileandownbetweenherlegs,takingagentlebiteofherfleshthroughthefabric,drawingawhimperfromherlips.“Andwhosenameareyougoingtoscreamwhenyoucome?”
“Yours.”Iinternallybeatmychestwhenherresponsecomessoquickly.
Ipullmywalletfrommybackpocket,readytopulloutwhatisprobablyanexpiredcondom.Butshegrabsatmyarm.“No.Ineedtofeelyou.”
Fuck.Iwantthattoo.
“Yousure?”ShemoanswhenIdropmyhead,tonguedartingouttogetatastethroughthesoakedfabric.
Herhipsswivelandshegasps.“I’monthepill.”
Adeepgroanrumblesinmychest.Apossessiveone.Asatisfiedone.“Whatadirtyfuckinggirlyouare.”Isuckherclitthroughthefabric,feelingherfingersrakingacrossmyscalp.“I’mgoingtofillyouup,andyou’llthankmeforit.Butfirst,Willa”—Ireachupandyankherpantiesdown,takingalonglookatthepinkperfectionbeforeme—“I’mstarving.”
Herhandsshootuptoswipeoverherface.“Ohgod,”shemoansasIdropbackdowntotakeapropertaste.
Andthenherhandslandbackonmyheadandherlegswraparoundmyshoulders,andIfeellikeI’mtheonewhoshouldthankher.23Willa
I’vediedandgonetoheaven.I’msureofit.BecausethewayCadewieldshistongueisoutofthisworld.Helicksme.Hesucksme.Hebitesme.Andthenhemakesmethankhimforit.
He’sreducedmetoapuddleofhormonesonthefloor.Orasthecasemaybe,onmybed,whilehekneelsonthegroundandmakesamealoutofmewithoneroughhandsplayedagainstmyinnerthighpossessivelyasheslowlyworkstwofingersintomypussy.Isquirmandchant,“Cade,”likeI’minsomesortofhot-single-dad-lovingcult.
I’dbetheleaderofthatcult.Forsure.
“That’sit,baby,wideopenforme.Areyouclenching,Willa?”
“Idon’tknow,”Ibreatheoutstupidlybeforeleaninguponmyelbowstolookdownathim.He’salldarkandforeboding,hislipsglisteningwith,well,me.“I’mprettysureI’mhavinganout-of-bodyexperience.”
“Relax.I’mgoingtotakecareofyou.”Histhumbstrokesalongthetendonsatthetopofmyupperthigh,makingmyheadfallbackonasigh,myentirebodyrelaxingasIdo.
HisfingersslidehomeandIgaspwhentheycurlupintothebestspot.Nomanshouldbeabletofindaclitthroughjeansandtheg-spotinonenight.
Buttheonekneelingbetweenmylegscan.
“Sofuckingtight.”Hisfingersworkinandout,andwhenIglancedownathim,hisgazeworshipsbetweenmylegs.Ifeelmyselfstretchingashisfingerstwistandscissor.“Sofuckingwet.”Hiscoaleyesmoveup,roamingmybodyhungrily,appreciatingeverydipandcurve.“I’veneverseensuchaprettypussyinmylife,Willa.”
Admittedly,I’veneverwonderedmuchaboutthewaymypussylooks.It’salwaysserveditspurposejustfine.She’sbeenarealchamp,ifyouaskme.ButIpreenunderthatcomplimentfromCade.He’solder.Moreexperienced.Ifhesaysit’spretty,well,whoamItodisagree?
IlickmylipsasIstaredownathim.“Thankyou.”Thewordscomeeasiereverytime.Theexpressionofsatisfactiononhisfaceismyreward.AtfirstIwasabitfiredupoverit,butsatisfyingCade—seeingthatexpressiononhisface—it’squicklybecomingafavoritepastimeofmine.
“Goodgirl,”hehums,touchingmybodysoreverentlythatIsquirm.Hedoesn’trush,hedoesn’tslamintome.Hismovementsarelanguidashewringseveryounceofpleasurefromeverycornerofmybody,andI’vefeltnothinglikeitbefore.“Nowyou’regoingtocomeforme,baby.”
Thewayhisfingersmove,hisintensestarewhileheplayswithmyprettypussy—hiswords,notmine—causeseverythingtobuild.Thesensations.Thewaytheshadowsplayacrosshishandsomefaceandchiseledshoulders.Thewaytheyflexwhenhemoveshisarm.Thefeelofhisfingertipspushingintothesoftfleshofmyleg.
Thesuddenwayhe’ssuckingatmyclitwhilelazilypushinghisfingersintome.He’sgotthewholemovementdownpat.Thecurlingandpressingrhythm.Heplaysmybodylikeit’saninstrumentheknowsinsideandout.
Andwhenthepressurewindsthroughmyhip,wrappingaroundthebaseofmyspine,Igriphisheadandpullhisfacetightagainstmypussy,grindingagainsthimasItopple.
“Cade!”Icallout,justlikeIpromisedhimIwould,asIcomeapart.Legsshaking.Toescurling.Thearchesofmyfeetcramp,andhismovementsjustcontinue.Hedoesn’tstoptoosoon,likesomanymendo.He’snoteagertobedonewiththeforeplay.Thisisn’tachoreforhim,andIthinkthatmightbethesexiestthingaboutit.
Ismileupatthesmoothwhiteceiling,castinagoldentonefromtheglowofthelamp,andfeelmylimbsgosoft.Andwiththatrushofpleasurecomesarushofprotectiveness.Arushofragethatsomeonecouldwoundhimsoprofoundly.Thatsomeonecouldstraythewayhisexdid.
Theresistance.Thejealousy.Thelonginglooks.Thesolitarywayheliveshislife.Itallmakessomuchmoresensenow.
AndIhaveeveryintentionofshowinghimhowbadlyIwanthim
Pushingmyselfup,Irakemyfingersthroughhishair,feelinghisheavybreathingagainstmydampskinasIcupmyhandsaroundthebaseofhisskullandpullhisheaduptomine.Ilinkmyeyeswithhis,staringhardintothemasmythumbsstrokethroughthestubblealonghischiseledcheeks.
“Thankyou,”Isaysimply.
AndthenIkisshim.Icantastemyselfonhim,butIdon’tcare.AllIcareaboutisthatheknowsIappreciatehim.Ourtonguestangleandhiscallousedpalmsdanceovermyribs,somehowmakingmeshiverandmycorestir,eventhoughIjustfinished.
Correction:eventhoughhejustfinishedme.
“Thatwasthebestorgasmofmylife,”Imurmuragainsthiswetlips,drawingachucklefromhischest.“Nowlosethepantsandliebackonthebed.Iwanttorepaythefavor.”
Hislipstrailagainstmycheek.“Youthinkyou’reinchargenow,Willa?That’sadorable.”
“Losethepants,mister.”Iuseafakeauthoritativevoiceandreturnhiskissesallthewayoverhisstubbledcheektohisear,whereInipplayfullyatthelobe.
Hehuffsoutabreathbutpushestostand,fingersworkingexpertlyathisjeans,cordedforearmsrippling.IabsentlywonderwhyIwassohunguponhisgrumpyfacewhenhehasabodylikethisandasweet,authoritative,dotingpersonality.WhatthehellwasIevenonabout?Ican’tremember.
“Whatareyouthinkingaboutrightnow?”heasksasheshuckshisjeansdown,impressivecocktentinghisunderwear.IalmostforgothowbigitisandthatIchokedlikeanamateurwhenhethrustedhardintomymouth.
“Howhotyouare.Howinsaneyourbodyis.Howsweetyouare.”WhenIripmyeyesawayfromhiscock,hiseyebrowarchesatmeasIadd,“Ithinkthewordsyou’researchingforare,Thankyou,baby.”
Hepullshisboxersdownwithasmirk,clearlynotself-consciousabouthisbody.“YoulikeitwhenIcallyoubaby?”
IrollmylipstogetherasIregardhim.Ifuckingloveit.Itsoundssolameandcheesytomemostofthetime,butwhenhegrowlsitandtackssomethingfilthyontoit?“Yes.Iloveit.”
Hemovesaroundme,andIturntocheckouthisroundmuscledass—Wranglersholdnothingtotherealthing.Everypartofhisbodyisboundwithstrength,andnotthetypeyougetfromtoomanyhoursinthegym.Hismusclesarereal,thickandhardbutnotoverlydefined.
Hisbody,hisskin,thecrinklesaroundhiseyes…it’salljustproofoflonghoursspenthardatwork.AndI’mnotsureI’veeverfoundanythingmoreattractivethanamanwhoworkshard.
Hesitsonthebedandturns,backpressedupagainsttheheadboard,chestpuffed,longlegsstretchedoutbeforehimlikeaking.
Hisfistwrapsaroundhisthickcock,andhejerksitafewtimes.IlickmylipsasIwatchhim,entranced.IthinkIcouldhappilywatchhimcomejustlikethis.
Hisgazeheatsonminewhenhecatchesmestaring.“Getoverhereandridemycock,baby.”
Hedoesn’tneedtoaskmetwice.Iturnandcrawlupthebed,trailingmyhandsoverthesmatteringofhaironhischestasIhikeonelegoverhiswaist,straddlinghimwhilehishandssettleonmyhips.Ifeelthesteelylengthofhiscockrestingagainstmybareass,andIgivealittlewiggle,movingmyhipsandfeelinghishardnessslideoverme.
Cadeshootsonehanduptomychin,pressingaquickkissnexttomylips.“Ifyouwantmetofuckyourass,allyouhavetodoisask.”
Ipropmyhandsagainsthischest,fingerscurlinginathiscrudewords.“You’dprobablymakemebegforit.”
Helaughs,deepandraspy,andIfeelthevibrationofitundermypalms.Foramanwhoavoidedlaughingaroundmeforsolong,Icanactuallyfeelhimlaughing.
Hissmileisashotstraighttotheheart.“Probably,”hereplieseasily,beforekissingmeagain.“Nowtakemycockandputitin.Iwanttowatchyou.”
“JesusChrist,Eaton.I’mgoingtobestuckinapermanentstateofblushingaftergettingnakedwithyou.”Ireachbehindmyself,runningmyhandoverhislength,feelinghowwetIamseatedacrosshisabdomen,legsspreadwide.
Hehuffsoutabreath,thumbsbrushingthesilverstudsonmynipples.Icantellbythewayhegroanshelikesthem.Alot.“Worksforme,Red.Youshouldseehowprettyyoulookwithyourcheeksallpink.Theseperfecttitsout.Ifyoudon’tgettowork,I’mgoingtoblowonyourbackratherthaninsideyou.”
“Fuck.”Mytonguedartsoutovermybottomlip,followedbyagrazeofmyteeth.Ipushupontomyknees.
Withonehandproppedonhisroundshoulder,Ireachdownbetweenus,wrappingmyfingersaroundhisthrobbinglength.WhenInotchtheheadofhimagainstmyentrance,wegroaninunison.
It’sthismomentwhereeverythingfeelsinevitable.It’stheanticipationthat’salmostasgoodastherealthing.Icanfeelthedomeofhishead,justslightlyinsideofme.It’sgoingtobeatightfit,sobeforeIletgo,Irunhimagainstmywetness,swipingupanddown,pressinghimagainstmyachingclit.
“JesusChrist,Red.Areyoutryingtokillme?”
“No.I’mtryingtomakesureitwillfit.”Myeyesarestilldown,watchingthewayhiscockcomesawayglistening.
“Baby,it’sgoingtofit.Youweremadeforme.”
Myeyesshootuptohis,butthat’srightwhenhishipsthrustupandhe’ssinkingintomerightasI’mslidingdownonhim.Igriphisforearmsdesperately.Thefeelingoffullnessandnotknowinghowtorespondtothatcommentdrawmyeyesbackdown,andwewatchasmybodystretchestotakehim.
“Lookatyou,Willa.Youtakemesowell,”hegritsout,voicesoundingstrainedandgravelly.
Imoan,feelingthewayourbodiesthrobtogether.Skinonskin.MyhandsslideuptohisshouldersasIpushdownthelastcoupleofinches,takinghisfulllengthinsideofme.
Cadesitsuptallertopressakisstothecenterofmychest,handsmovingaroundmybodytogriptheglobesofmyass.“Fuck,youfeellikeheaven.Sohotandtight.Justforme.”
Justforme.Myheartaches,andmyarmswraparoundhisneck.Ikissthetopofhishead.Thisstrong,stoic,honest,hardworkingman—onewhosehurtrunssodeepthathe’slivedseveralyearsquestioninghisworth.Hisvalue.
Ihateit.Ihateitforhim.So,Irockmyhipsonhim,hughimtomychestandsay,“Justforyou.”Mynailsgrazeoverhisshouldersanddownhisstrongback.Ibiteonhisearagainandnuzzlemycheekagainsthisstubble.Ilovethefeelofitraspingovermyskininperfecttandemwiththeroughpadsofhisfingers.
Iliftanddropdown,takinghisfulllengthinonegoandhissingagainsthischeekattheslightburn.“Justforyou,”Iwhisperagain.
AndIthinkImeanit.
WhothefuckknowswhatI’mdoing?I’mpositivethatIdon’t.OrIdon’tmostdays.Igowiththeflow.Itakemyopportunities.
AndGod,anopportunityhasneverfeltthisright,soIdon’tquestionit.Idon’toverthinkit.Igivemyselfovertoit.
Tohim.
Ipullhisheaduptomeandkisshimlikeit’sourlastmomentonearth.Theenergyinthesmallbedroomchanges.Whatstartedoffasroughandturnedplayful,hasmorphedintosomethingmoresensitive.Butnowwe’remorefrantic.
Ourhandsroam.Hegripsmyass,liftingmeandpushingmebackdown.Mylegsshakeandmyheadtipsback.Hisbeardscrapesacrossmychest.Hislipsworkmynipples.Myhandstughishair.
Wedon’ttalk.
Butwedon’tneedto.Ourbodiesdothetalking.Ourkissesarewet,andmessy,andperfectlyimperfect.
“Cade,”Iwhimper,aswetslappingnoisesfilltheroom,followedbyhisanimalisticgrunts.Mytitsarebouncing.Hiseyesareglassy.“IthinkI’mgoingto…”Itrailoff,hotandbreathlessandtotallyoutofcontrol.Utterlyconsumed.ButheknowswhatI’mtryingtosay.HeknowswhatIneed.WhatIwant.
Onehandsplaysovermystomach,andhisfingersswipeovermybud.“Comeforme,baby,”hepants.
“Yes,”Ihiss.“Pleasedon’tstop.”
“Never,”ishisresponse.Anditsetsmeoff,thesuretyofitstrikingsomethinginmethatcausesaneruption.
“Cade!”Iscreamhisnamethistime.Idon’tjustcallit.Iletloose,andgod,itfeelsincredible.
We’reatangleofmoansandtautmuscles.Hisfingerskeepmoving,buthishandlandsonmyshoulderandclampsmeontohisbodyashiscocksurges,twitchingandthrobbing.
Hespillshimselfinsidemeashewhispersmynameagainstmylips,andthere’ssomethingintenselypersonalaboutit.I’mtryingtocatchmybreath.ItoldhimI’dsaythankyou,andIwanttokeepallmypromisestohim.He’sseentoomanybrokenonesinhislife.
Hecrushesmetohiminthewakeofourorgasms.Itfeelslikehewrapshisentirebodyaroundme.Inuzzleincloser,withhimstillinsideme,dampchestagainstmycheek,steelyarmsclutchingmearoundmyback.
Iopenmylipstosaythewordshewanted.
Butit’shimwhodropshischeekagainstmyheadandrasps,“Thankyou.”24Cade
Iwakeuphotandhard.
Andsmiling.
Willa’shairisinmyface,andherbreathismakingmyneckfeeldampandsweaty.She’ssprawledherlonglimbsovermineandpressedherbodysoclosethatallI’dhavetodoisshiftherafewinchesandshe’dbelyingrightontopofme.
I’mnotespeciallycomfortable.AndIfuckingloveit.
Ialwayskindofchalkedupmydrystreaktoaging,tobeingpastitatthirty-eight.IknowI’mnotoldbutIfeeloldsomedays.Wornoutandlackingtheenergyittakestostartanewrelationship.Tootiredtodealwiththehighsandthelowsandtheinevitabledrama.
ButWillaGrantinvigoratesme.
Afterhavingthebestsexofmylife,Idraggedhertothekitchenandfedher.Imadeuspancakes.Wetalked.Welaughed.Butwhenshesmudgedabitofsyruponherlips,Icouldn’tresistlickingitoff.Andthatturnedintomegettingheronallfours,rightonthehardwoodfloorinthekitchen.Whichturnedintoashower.Whichturnedintoslammingherintothetilewalluntilwebothcameagain.
Shetoldmeshecouldn’ttakeanymore,butwhenIyankedherintomybedwithme,Idisappearedbeneaththecoversforonemoretaste.Anditturnsoutshe’sabigfatliarbecausesheabsolutelytookmore.
Ishouldbeexhaustedrightnow,butapparentlymydickdidn’tgetthememo.Becausehe’supandreadytodefilethetwenty-five-year-oldsprawledoutinmybed.Again.
“Down,boy,”Imurmur,reachingtoadjustmyselfinmyboxers.WillastirswhenImove,butmyoppositearmcomesaroundtothedimplesatthesmallofherback,pressingheragainstme.
Idon’tcareifit’sphysicallyuncomfortable.HavingWillacloseiscomforting.It’slikehavingLukeunderthesameroof.Iknoweveryoneissafe.
IwishIcouldsayIfeltthesamewayaboutLuke’smom.ButIdon’t.TheonlytimesTaliacrossesmymindarewhenI’mfeelingwoundedorinsecure.WhenthatbittertastecrawlsupmythroatandIthinkabouttheyearsIwastedtryingtomakethingsworkwithherwhendeepdownIdidn’twantthemto.
Theworstpartis,Ican’tbringmyselftoregretitbecauseIhaveLuke.Andhe’sthebestthingthat’severhappenedtome.
Willamovesherheadtomychest,slidingherfingersthroughthesparsehair.“Shh.Gobacktosleep.I’mhavingthebestdream.”
ThethoughtthatWillaisanotherofthebestthingsinmylifecropsup,butitscaresme.Itfeelstoosoon.Shefeelstooyoung.Itfeelstoo…impossible.
“Whatareyoudreamingabout,Red?”Iliftmyheadanddropakisstohersilkyhair.
Ifeelherchestshakealittle,herbreastspressingagainstme.Eventhemetalofherpiercingsiswarm,becauseofcourseshesleepsnaked.“Thatmyhotbossbangedmybrainsoutlastnight.”
Ishakemyhead.
“No,forreal.Youshouldseethisfuckingguy.Alldarkandbroodywithamassivedick.”
“Willa.”
“Thesebig,callousedhandstogowithhisbig,roundass—”
“Woman.”Iflipherontoherback,thesoundofhergigglemusictomyears.Ilieontopofher,proppedonmyelbows.She’sgotthisplayfulsmileonherfaceandcreasesonhercheekfromthepillowcase.Shelookslikeasleepy,creamy,green-eyedgoddess.
Ishakemyheadatheragain.Idothatalot.Itusedtobeoutofannoyance,nowit’smorelike…disbelief.
“Iswomanhowyousay,Thankyouforallthecompliments,Willa?”
“KeepteasingmeandI’llfillyourthroatwithmycocktoshutyouupagain,”Igrumble,butit’splayful.Andsheknowsit.She’sfiguredouthowtointerpretme,ratherthanbeingoffendedbyme.SheknowswhenI’mjoking,orwhenI’mgrumpy.AndwhenIam,shejustrollshereyesatmeorwalksaway.
Iguessthat’swhysheopenshermouthlikeshe’sreadytotakemethereagain,butthenhereyeswiden,andsheslamsahandoverit.“OhmyGod.Morningbreath.I’msorry.”
Ilaugh.Afterwhatwedidlastnight,alittlemorningbreathwon’tscaremeoff.“Willa,Iwaswithyouwhileyouwerebarfing.Yourbreathwillneverbeworsethanthat.”
Shegaspsfrombehindherpalmlikeshe’soffended.“Asshole!”Andthatjustmakesmelaughharder.
Ipressakisstoherforeheadbeforeleaningovertowhisperinherear,“Luckyforyou,Iwon’tbeabletosmellyourbreathwithmydickinyourmouth.”
Shelaughssilentlyatthat,coveringherfacewithbothhandsasherbodyshakes.Iflopdownbesideherandletherinfectioushappinesstakemeover.
Weliehere—laughing,handsroaming,bodiestangled—butbeforelong,shepullsmebackontopofher,slidesdownmybody,andtellsmetofuckhermouth.
***
“Okay,solike…”WillawringsherhandsinherlapasIstartthetruck.It’slikesteppingoutsideofmyhousehasrealitycrashingdownallaroundus,andshe’sfreakingout.“Howarewehandlingthis?”
IshouldbefreakingoutbutIfeelremarkablycalm.Somethingaboutthisisjusttoorighttogetworkedupover.IliveinmyheadenoughtoknowwhenI’mlosingmyshit,andI’mdefinitelynot.
“Handlingwhat?”Ireply,asIshiftintodriveandwatchbehindmyselfoutofhabit.Istillcheckformyolddog,whowasalwaysrippingaroundthefarm,burningoffhisendlessenergy.ThedogTaliatookwithher.Sheliterallysaidshewanted“thedogorthekid.”Istillcan’tbelievethosewordscameoutofhermouth.Therewasnoquestionaboutthatforme.Anyonewhoputthosetwoonthesameprioritylevelwassureasshitnotgoingtoberaisingmychild.
“This.Whathappenedbetweenus.Allthesex.Arewedoingmoreofthat?Orisitaone-and-donescenario?”
Oneofmycheeksquirkup.“Ithinkyoumeansixanddone,baby.”
“Don’tbabymerightnow,Eaton.I’mserious.”
“Metoo,Red.ShouldIpullover?Wecanmakeitsevenandcounting.”
“Ihateyou.”Shecrossesherarmslikeshe’spouting.Iknowbetter.Willaisn’tapouter.
“Right.Butyoulovemydick.”
Shesucksinadeepbreathandthenletsoutthisadorablefrustratedgrowl.“Weeksandweeksofyoubeingahumorlessasshole,andallittookwasafeworgasmsforyoutobecomeMr.Chucklehead.Ishouldhavetakenonefortheteamsooner.”
Itwistmyfingersonthesteeringwheel,tryingtoholdbackmylaughter.“Ithinkyoushouldcontinuetotakeitfortheteam.”
Herheadwhipsovertolookatme.“Yeah?”
Ishrug,keepingmyeyesonthegravelroadaheadofme.“Yeah.Definitely.”
“Why?”
Iglanceathernow.Hereyesarenarrowed,andIcanseetheinsecuritywrittenalloverherface.Goddamn,butthisgirlputsonagoodshow.
“BecauseIlikeyou,Willa.”
Shepointsatmeandtriestocorrectmystatement.“Youliketohavesexwithme.”
Istopthetruckinthemiddleoftheroad.There’snotrafficsoitdoesn’tmatter.Andhonestly,eveniftherewere,theycouldalljustfuckingwaitwhileIsetthiswomanstraight.
Iturntofaceher,onehandslungoverthewheel.Myposturemightseemcasualbutmyexpressionisnot.ShemusttakenoticebecauseIwatchhershouldersshimmyasshesitsupstraighterandscansmyface.
“No,Willa.Ilikeyou.Icareaboutyou.Ididn’tgowithoutsexforyearsjusttostartitbackuprandomly.Ihadopportunities,andIturnedthemdownbecauseIwasn’tinterested.Wedon’tneedtomakeashowofit,andwithLukearound,weprobablyshouldn’t.ButI’minterestedinyou.Idon’tknowwherethatleavesusorwhatitallmeans.AllIknowisthatit’sgoingtofuckingwreckmewhenyouleaveattheendofthissummer,butI’mtoofargonetocare.”
Herlipspopopenlikeshe’sabouttosaysomething,butsheclosesthemagain.Icanseeherprocessing.She’ssoexpressive,nothingislockedupwithafacelikethat.Icanreadherfartooeasily.
Shedoesn’tsayit,butshelookshappywithmyresponse.
Whatshesaysis,“Thankyou.”
Igiveherafirmnod,putthetruckindrive,andreachacrosstheconsole,palmopen.Withinsecondssheslidesherslenderfingersbetweenmine,andIwrapherhandup,givingheraquicksqueezeaswedrivetothemainfarmhouseinastunnedbutcompanionablesilence.
“Dad!”Lukefliesaroundthecornerofmyfather’shouselikeabatoutofhellasIstridearoundthefrontofmytrucktoopenWilla’sdoor.Iswearthiskidneverstopsrunning…jumping…climbing.He’stakenyearsoffmylifeforsure.“Willa!”hecries,whenheseesherstepoutofthevehicle.
“You’renotmychauffeur,youknow,”shemurmursasshetakesmyhandtohopdown.
“I’lladdnotopeningyourcardoortothelistofoffenses—thatincludesnoteatingyourpussy—frompastmen.”
Sheblushesanddropsmyhand,steppingaway.
Keepingourhandsoffeachotherisgoingtobefuckingtorture.Icantellbythewayherfingerstrailedovermypalm,likeshewantedtoholdcontactforaslongaspossible.
Luckilyformyego,Lukelauncheshimselfatmefirst.Ipullhimupagainstme,notinghowmuchheavierhe’sgrown.Howmuchtaller.He’sgettingbiggerfasterthanIcarefor.Growingupwaytoodamnfast.
“Hey,pal.Youhaveagoodsleepover?”
“Thebest!”Hesmacksaloudkissonmycheek,andIwonderwhatagehe’llstopdoingthat.
HepopsdownanddoesthesametoWilla,excepthewrapshisarmsaroundherwaist.Shedoublesover,hairfanningaroundhimasshehugshimbackandwhisperssomethingprivatetohim.Lukegiggles,andWillarubsahandacrossthebackofhisheadbeforedroppingaquickkisstohiscrown.
Istareatthemlikealovesickfool,imaginingsomethingI’veneverletmyselfimagine.Luke’shadplentyofcaretakersovertheyears—teachers,friends—buthe’sneverbeenastakenwithasinglepersonasheiswithWilla.He’sneededsomeonelikeherinhislifesobadly.
AndIguessthatmakestwoofusbecauseIcan’ttakemyeyesoffthem.
“Youhavingastroke,son?”Mydickheaddadcallsfromthefrontporch,actuallymakingmejump.
Ipropmyhandsonmyhips,givinghimmybestsay-nothingglare.
He’snotastupidman.He’sgrinningatmelikeheknowssomething.AndI’msurehedoes.Ijustdon’tneedhimmakingitweirdbymakingsomejokeaboutusgivingthelawnablowjoborwhatevershithecomesupwithforentertainment.
Ican’twaittobeoldandretiredandsaythingsjusttoseehowpeoplewillreacttogetmykicks.That’sthedreamrightthere.
“Justtired,”iswhatIopttorespondwith.
Harveypropshimselfagainstthepostonthefrontporchwithaknowinggrin.“That’swhathappenswhenyoustayuptoolatepartyingatyourage.”
Willastandsupstraightnow,armslungaroundLuke,whoisstillclingingtoher.“Iwastheoneoutpartying.Cadestayedhometo,uh,cleanthehouse.He’sverytidy.Youdidwellinthatdepartment.”
Mydadscoffs.“Thatboyonlycleanswhenhe’sanxious.”
Dick
“Wellthen,hisanxietymustbeoffthecharts,”Willaquips,tryingtokeepthingslight.Herbartenderbanterisonpoint,butmydaddoesn’tfallforit.
“He’slookingmightyrelaxedthismorning,”hereplies,grinningear-to-ear.
“JesusChrist,”Imutter,kickingatastoneinthepackeddirtbeneathmyworkboot.
Willasnickersandlooksaway.Webothknowwe’rebusted.OldHarvey’sfuckingeagleeyesnevermissabeat.Andthat’swhatIgetforstaringatWillalikeshehungthemoon.
It’sbeenalloftenminutessinceweleftthehouse,andI’malreadyfailingatkeepingthingsbetweenusunderwraps.There’sapartofmethatdoesn’twantto,butIalsodon’twantallthepityinglookswhensheleaves.Thethroatclearingandthebackpats.Andifpeopledon’tknowaboutus,theywon’tknowwhyI’mmiserable.Andthatjustfeelsalotmorebearabletome.
“What’stheplantoday?”IstaredownatLuke,optingtoignoremydadentirely.
“Planningmybirthday!Willa,you’llcomeright?Eventhoughit’sontheweekend?”
Shesmilesdownathim,givinghissmallshouldersatightsqueeze.“Wouldn’tmissit.”
“Willyouplayhappybirthdaytomeonyourguitar?”
Shelaughsandmydickgoeshard.WatchingWillaplaytheguitarisupthereforme.Allunpluggedandstrippeddown,justhersoftraspyvoiceandthegentlestrummingofherdaintyfingers,withlonghairsplayedagainstthestainedwood.
It’salmostashotaswatchinghersitonabuckinghorseandsticktheride
“Ihaveanevenbetteridea,”Willasays.“I’llteachyouhowtoplayittoo.”
Luke’seyesgowide.“Infrontofeveryone?”
“Onlyifyouwantto.”Sheruffleshishair,andmybrainsnagsoneveryone.BecauseLuke’sbirthdayistheonedayoftheyearthatTalialikestocrawloutofthewoodwork.
Iglanceoveratmydad.Wespentenoughyearsworkingthislandtogether,learnedtoreadeachotherprettywell,andIseehe’sthinkingthesamething.
I’veneverwantedtokeepTaliaawayfromLuke.I’vegivenhereveryopportunitytobeapartofhislife,evenifshehasn’ttakenthosechances.
IthinkithurtsmemorethanithurtsLuke.Forhim,she’snotafactor.Forme,sheshouldhavebeen.Ican’twrapmyheadaroundmissinghimgrowingup,butI’llnevershameherforit,andI’llnevergatekeepoursonsolongassheisn’thurtinghim.
“Weneedtotalkaboutthereunion,Cade,”mydadsays.“Comeforlunch?YouandIcandosomeplanning.”
“Willatoo!”Lukeisalreadydraggingheruptothehouse,histinyhandclampedaroundhers.
“It’sherdayoff,pal,”Iremindhim,seeingthelinebetweeneverythingbluranddesperatelytryingtokeepitinplace.
SheglancesdownatLukeandoveratme.“It’sokay.Idon’tneedadayofffromyou,buddy.You’reoneofmyfavoritepeopleintheworld.”
Myheartstuttersinmychest,andIsuckinasharpbreath.ThewayLukesmiles,thewayhestandsjustalittlebittaller,makesthebridgeofmynosesting.
Iscrunchitupandgiveitawipebeforelookingaway.ThenIstridetothehouse,headdown,sonoonewillseetheemotioninmyeyes.
ButIdon’tneedtolookatmydadforhimtoknow.Afterall,whoknowstheirsonbetterthanasingledad?Beforeheretired,wespentlongdaysontherangetogether,soit’sdamnnearimpossibletokeepanythingfromeachother.
“You’vegotitbad,boy,”iswhathesays,clappingmeontheshoulderasImovepasthim.
Andhe’sneverbeenmoreright.25Willa
Cade:Justneedliketenmoreminutes.
Willa:AnyguessesonwhetherornotIputpantiesonthismorning?
Cade:I’msittingwithmydadrightnow.Idon’tneedaboner.
Willa:Nopanties.Mykittyistoosorefromridingyourmassivepole.
Cade:Woman,areyouintentionallyignoringmyinstructions?
Willa:Youdon’ttellmewhattodo.Ithoughtwe’destablishedthatbynow?
***
“Willa!Let’sgo.”
MyheadwhipsaroundatthesoundofCade’sauthoritativevoice,barkingatmelikeIworkforhim.Likeit’snotmy“dayoff”andwedidn’tspendtheentirenightfuckingeachother’sbrainsout.IshakemyheadandwidenmyeyesdownatLuke.
“Weshouldhidefromhim,”Lukesays,instantlydroppingthesidewalkchalk.We’veadornedtheentirefrontdrivewaywithheartsofalldifferentcolors,shapes,andsizes.
Inod.“Absolutelyweshould.”
“Iknow!”Heslideshishandintomine,andItrynottothinkabouthowstickyitis.Chucklingundermybreath,Ijogbehindhimashedragsmebehindabigwellthatsitsbesidethehouse.Cementpeeksoutbetweenthelayeredstones,andtheoldwoodenbeamsreachuptallaboveit.There’sabuckethangingonarope,butithasthedistinctlookofbeingoutofuse.
It’scharming,andsymbolic,anditsmellslikewetflint,ortheyardafterarainstorm.
“Helloooo!”Lukepopshislittlefacedownintotheopening,cacklingwhenhisgreetingechoesbackupathim.
Isinktotheground,yankinghimdownwithme.“Shushit,youlittlehellion.He’sgoingtohearus.”
“Oh,yeah.Right.”Lukechortlesmore.Suchahappy,goofykid,evenifhisattentionspanleavessomethingtobedesired.
“Hey,Willa?”
“Hey,Luke,”Ireplydryly,sincethebequietpartobviouslydidn’tregister.
“SometimesIwishyouweremymom.”
Iblinkattheboy,toostunnedtospeak,sohecontinues.“Atthatbirthdayparty?WhereIgotheldunderthewater?Hetoldmethatevenmymomdidn’tlikeme.”
Iwanttopushthatkidintothewateralloveragain.
“Well,Idon’tjustlikeyou,Luke.”Myvoicecomesoutthickwithemotion,butI’mnotsosurehepicksuponit.“Iloveyou.”
“Youdo?”Hissmileisshy—tentative.
“Yeah.Andthatkidisamajorshithead.”
Hishandslapsoverhismouthandhiseyesgowidebeforehewhispers,“He’satotalshitheadandIloveyoutoo.”
Iinstantlypullhimclose,feelinghistinybodypressagainstminerightwherewe’rekneelingontheground.
“Luke!”Cade’svoiceiscloserthistime.“Willa!WhydoesitlooklikeValentine’sDaythrewupalloverthedriveway?”
Iclapahandovermymouthtoholdinthelaughter.Ofcourse,that’showCadewouldseeit.Fuckingpessimist.
“Youtwothinkyou’refunny,don’tyou?”
ImovemyfreehandtocoverLuke’smouthbecausehehasnochillandisgoingtoburst.
Cade’sbootsmoveoffthepavedpartofthedriveway,andIcanhearthemcrunchingagainstthepackedgravelbesideit,drawingcloser.
“Theworstpartis…whenIfindyou,I’mgoingtopunishyouboth.”
Luke’sshouldersshakeharder.Heknowshisdadisabigsoftyunderthatgruffexterior.Idon’tthinkhe’spunishedLukeadayinhislife.
Methough?I’mnotsosure.BedroomCadeisnotDadCade.Mybodytinglesinresponse—Idon’tlaughatall.
“Ibetyou’re…behindtheshed!”Wecanhearhimjumpandthengroanwhenthespothethoughtwe’dbeinisempty.
IturnandgiveLukeawarningglarebecauseIfeelthelittlepuffsofairescapinghislips.AfterImouth,Bequiet,hegivesmeanodandtakesabreathinthroughhisnose.
Cade’sheavyfootfallsdrawnearer.“Howabout…”He’sapproachingthewell,buttheoppositeside.IgiveLukealookandpointupward,hopingheunderstandsthatwe’regoingtojump.
Henods.
Myfingerscountdownfromthree.
Two.
One.
“Inthewell!”
Weshootupandshout,“Boo!”
Andpredictably,Cadejumps,histallframestartlingashetakesastepback.Hishandsomefacemomentarilyappearsveryshocked,andLukeandIdissolveintopealsoflaughter.
“Gotcha,”Iwheeze.“NowetT-shirtthistimethough!”
“Youshouldhaveseenyourface!”Lukepointsathim.
“Okay,that’sit.You’rebothdead.”Cadepointsatus,spinninghiscapbackwardandhittingmewithawink.
Dick.Heknowsitkillsmewhenhewearsitlikethat.Murdermewithyourdick,please,sir.
Luketurnsandgunsitforthemainhouse.CadeletshimgetalittleaheadbeforehislongstrideseatupthegroundbehindhimandhescoopsLukeupintohisarmsandstartsticklinghim.LukesquirmsandhislightgigglesblendwithCade’sdeeperbaritone.
“Willa!Help!”
“Don’tworry,Luke.I’mcoming!”IsprintheroicallyaroundthewellandgetmyfingersrightupinCade’sribs.
Hesqueals.Hestraightupsqueals,anditistheleastmanlynoiseI’veeverheardcomeoutofsuchamanlyman.We’realllaughinglikelunatics,butCadeisstronger,taller,faster—meaner.Andsomehow,hetossesLukeoveroneshoulderandheftsmeupovertheotherone
Lukeslapsathisbackinbreathlesshysterics.“Letmedown!”
Tossedovertheoppositeshoulder,Ireachdownfartherandslaphisass,whichjustmakesLukelaughharder.
“Giddyup,Daddy!”Lukecalls,andCade’sbreathhuffsoutonmybarethigh.
“Youtwoareapaininmyass.”
“Howthehellareyoucarryingus?Thisisn’tnormal.Putmedown.”
“Woman.Icanpickupcalves,youtwoarenothing.”Hisfingertracestheinsideofmythigh,andIsquirm.
“Lookslikeyou’vegotyourhandsfull,son,”Harveycallsout,butIcan’tseehim.Idon’tneedtoseehimtohearthesmileinhisvoice.“Whydon’tItakethetinyhell-raiseroffyourhandsforabitlonger?”
“Yes!Saveme,Grandpa!”Lukescreams,thrashingwildly,shakinghisdad’sbodyashedoes.
CadegruntsandsetsLukedowninstantly.“Goodplan,Dad.Divideandconquer.”
IhearLukesprintingacrossthedrivewayawayfromusasIwhisper,“Cade,putmedown.Ibeteveryonecanseemyass.”
“Theycan’t,”hewhispersback.
“Howdoyouknow?”
“BecauseIchecked.Ithoughttheviewmightbebetterthanitis.Disappointing,tobehonest.”
“Dick.Letmedown.I’mnotababycow.”
Cadejustlaughs.
“Youkidshavefun!”Harveycalls,anditstrikesmehowblatantlyobviousitmustbethatsomethingisgoingonwithus.“Idrovepasttheotherdayandnoticedyourlawn.Itcouldreallyuseagood—”
“Dad,justdon’t,”Cadegrumblesandmarchesovertohistruckwithmeslungoverhisshoulderlikeabagoffeed.Orababycow.
“Let’sgo,Red.You’rewithmetoday.”HeclapsmyassloudlytothedelightedsquealsofLukeandabarkofdelightedsurprisefromhisdad.
BloodrushestomycheeksandIcovermyfacewithmyhands.Itellmyselfit’sbecauseI’membarrassed,butdeepdown,Iknowit’sbecausethissideofCadeisdoingsomethingtome.
Andthatsomethingisgoingtomakeleavingwhenthisgigisupdamnnearimpossible.
***
“Whyarewetrailridingtogetheronmydayoff?”IaskCadefromwhereI’mseatedonaprettydunranchhorse.ItmakesmemissTux,butIknowhe’sfatandhappyinafieldrightnow,recuperatingjustfine.He’llprobablyneverwanttojumpanotherdayinhislife.Heprobablythinkshe’sretirednow.
“BecauseIwantedtoshowyoutheland.”
IeyeCadeskeptically.Blueberry’sbobbingheadisslunglow,totallyrelaxedaswewalkbetweenthesparsebalesofhayrolledupbehindCade’shouse.
“I’veseentheland,Cade.I’mfeelingprettyfamiliarwiththesehaybalestoo.”
“It’sbeenagoodyearforhay,”ishisstupidresponse.He’sallserious,shouldersheldtaut,handsproppedonthehornofhissaddle.Stupidhatstillbackward.“Plus,Ifeelrelaxedouthereontheland.”
“You’reactingweird.”Igivemygelding,Rocket,alittlesqueeze,urginghimforwardsoI’mevenwithCade.“Whyareyouactingweird?”
“Can’tIjusttakeyououtonaromantictrailride?”
MylipsrolltogetherasIregardhim.“Youcan.Butyouhaven’tspokenawordtomesincewegotoutofyourtruck.Youlooklikeyou’retryingtodisintegratetheleatherinyourhands,andyourmouthkeepspoppingopenlikeyou’reabouttosaysomething,butthenyoushakeyourheadandslamitbackshutsohardyourteethclank.AndIcanhearyougrindingsaidteethuntilyourmouthpopsbackopenagain.”
Heturnsandgivesmehisannoyedscowl.“Whatareyou?Ashrink?”
Ihithimbackwithmybestcheesygrin.“Nah.Justthedaughterofone.”
Hehuffsoutasoftlaughandshakeshishead,staringoutovertheflatexpanseoflandthatlookslikeitshootsstraightupintotheRockies.It’sbeautiful—gold-greengrass,grayrock,uptoablue-birdsky.
“It’sLuke’sbirthdaynextweek.Thelittlepartywe’rehostingisthefollowingweekend.It’scasual.Justfamily.”
IsaynothingbecauseIknowwherehe’sgoing.Hementioneditonce,andIneveraskedmorequestionsbecauseitwasn’tmybusiness.
“Hismomalwaysshowsupforit.”
“Assheshould,”Ireplybecauseit’strue.“Cade,thisisreallynoneofmybusiness.IfLukeishappy,I’mhappy.”
Hesortofwobbleshishead.“I’mnotsosurethatshemakesLukehappy,tobehonest.Nineoutoftentimes,it’sawkward.Hedoesn’tknowhowtoactaroundher,andshesureasshitdoesn’tknowhowtoactaroundhim.It’snotgettinganybetterwithage.”
“Okay.”It’sallIcanthinktosay.Idon’treallyknowwhyhe’stellingmeallthis.
“Ihaveasinkingsuspicionit’sgoingtobemoreawkwardwithyouthere.”
StiffnesspermeatesmyneckasIshifttosittaller.“Areyousayingyoudon’twantmethere?”
“No.”Hisresponseisquickandfirm.IletoutthebreathI’dbeenholdingback,readytokeepittogetherifhe’dsaidyes.“Notatall.IfyouwanttotalkaboutsomethingthatwouldupsetLuke—thatwouldbeit.”
Inod,droppingmyeyestomyfingerswrappedaroundthereinsinmyhands.
“Iwantyoutheretoo,”Cadeadds,andIcanfeeltheweightofhisgazeonmyskin.“Shemightnotlikeit,though,soIjustwanttoprepareyouforthat.”
MyfacescrunchesasIturntolookatthemanbesideme.“Whywouldshenotlikemethere?I’llbethereashisnanny.”
Hisjawworks,andIwatchhisAdam’sapplebobwhenheswallows.“She’s…Idon’tknow.”Hechucklesnow,scrubbingahandoverhisbeard.“Youknow,Itrysohardnottosaybadthingsabouther,becauseshe’shalfLukeandIloveeverythingaboutthatkid.ButWilla,hismomisafuckingnightmare.Idon’tknowhowmybiggestmistakebroughtaboutmymostcherishedgift.ButhereIam.”
“You’resomature,”Iquip.Becausereally,heis.
Hegroansandstaresupattheskynow.“Taliaisoddlycompetitive.Iwasatrophytoher.Butonceshewonme,sherealizedmaybeitwasn’tthetrophyshewanted.Icankeepyouandmeunderwrapsbecausethatwillhelpkeepherclawsfromcomingout.ButIcan’tkeepthewayLukelovesyouunderwraps.Andthat’sgoingtobotherher.”
Isigh.Feelingwayoutofmydepthwiththissortoffamilydynamic.
“Harveyishyper-awareofittoo.He’snotthebiggestTaliafan.Butheisahugefanofyou.”
“Yeah,youdidagreatjobofkeepingusunderwrapsearlier,”Ijoke,thinkingbackonthewayhecarriedmeawaylikeacavemanwhojustwonthehunt.
“Wasn’ttryingto,Red.Don’twanttoifI’mbeinghonest.”
Isnort.“Thisisweird.”
Iseehislipstipupwhenheglancesoveratme.“Totallyweird.”
“ButI’mnotmadatit.”
Cadetagson,“Imightevenbehappyaboutit.”
Isquintmyeyesathim—fuck,buthe’shot.It’sreallyjuststupid.“Isthatyourhappyscowl?”
Heshakeshisheadandsnickers.“CanItellHarveythatI’veadequatelypreparedyoufortheparty?”
“Yeah,yeah.Youdon’tdealwithabunchofdrunkenidiotsandcatfightsforyearswithoutlearningathingortwoabouthandlingshitlikethat.I’llbefine.Let’sjustkeepitaboutLuke.Okay?”
Henods,eyeingmelikehe’scheckingmeforanysignsI’mstressed.Andtruthfully,I’mnot.I’mnotadramaseeker.Infact,Iavoiditliketheplague.IfIhavetosmileandnodandfadeintothebackground,thenthat’swhatI’lldo.
“Okay,”heagreeswithafirmnod.
“Okay.Good.”Westareateachotherforabeatuntilasmiletugsupmycheeksasanideatokillthetensionpopsintomyhead.“Lastonetothemountainsisarottenegg!”burstsfrommylipsbeforeIcanstopit,andthenI’murgingRocketupintoacanter,glancingovermyshoulderatCade,who’sgrinningatmelikeI’mapsycho.
“Gitup!”hecallstoBlueberry,andherhoovespoundbehindme.
Ileanforwardinthetack,comingoffRocket’sbacktogivehimsomespacetogallop,pushingmyhandsuphisneckandgivinghimslackinthereins.Hestretchesout,andwhenIglancebackagain,Cadeisn’tgainingonmelikeIthoughthewould.
“Youscared,Eaton?”Ishout.
“No,baby.Justenjoyingtheview.Yourasslooksmightyfinefrombackhere.”
Webothlaughandjoybubblesinmychest.Idon’tletupthough.Hecanstareatmyass,butI’mstillgoingtokickhis.
“Thankyou!”Ishoutbackasajoke.Butdeepdown,itdoesn’tfeellikeajoke.
Itfeelslikehe’swigglinghiswayintomyheart.26Willa
Summer:Ifeellikeweliveonthesamepieceoflandandyet,Ihaven’tseenyouatall.
Willa:Beenbusy.
Summer:Withwhat?
Willa:Savinghorses.
Summer:Oh,yeah?
Willa:Sum,I’vesavedsomanyImightaswellopenarescue.
Summer:Goodlord.
Willa:WoulditbelegalformetohaveCadewritemeacharitabledonationreceipttooffsetmytaxes?
Summer:Ithinkhe’sfuckedyoustupid,bestie.
***
Cade’sheadpopsoutthebackdoor,andbutterflieseruptinmychest.Icantellbythewayhescansthebackyardthathe’sbeenlookingforme.
“Hi,”isallIsayfromthefarsideofthehottub,steamwaftingaroundme.We’rewellintothedogdaysofsummernow.It’sAugustandthenightshavecooled.Theairisfreshagainstmychestandshoulders,butthehotbubblingwatercaressesmybody,chasingawaythechill.
I’mnotcoldatall.EspeciallywatchingCadestepontothepatio,barefootwiththinloungepantsslunglow,signatureblackT-shirthugginghisbiceps,andhairallmussedfromashowerandlyingdownwithLuke.
“Lukeasleep?”
“Yeah.”Hiseyesrakeovermehungrily.“Imeanttocomefindyousooner,butIthinkIfellasleepinthere.”
“That’sokay.I’vebeenkeepingbusy,”Ireply,notmissingthewayhisheadquirksandhiseyesnarrow.
“Yeah?Busywithwhat?”
“Thinkingaboutlastnight,”Ireplyboldly,stretchingmyarmsabovemyheadandshowinghimthewaymynippleshavepebbledbeneathmythin,purplebathingsuit.
Thesameonehecouldn’ttakehiseyesoffofthelasttimewefoundourselvesinheretogether.
Ratherthanapproachingme,hepropsashoulderagainstathickwoodenbeam,stillstandingunderthecoveredportionofthepatio.Hecrosseshisarmsoverhischestandregardsmelikehe’sunaffected.However,whenmyeyesdropbelowhiswaistline,Iknowthat’snottrue.
“Whatpart?”Hisvoiceisarumble,thunderthatrollsovermyskinandshootsstraighttomycore.
“Well,IstartedoutthinkingabouthowIgotonmykneesforyou.”
“Youdolookbeautifulonyourknees,”herepliessmoothly.Myheartrateratchetsupunderhisgaze.Recountinglastnighthaseverynerveendingfiring.“Morebeautifulwhenyoustruggletotakeitall.Ilovewatchingyouworksohard.”
Asmiletwistsmymouth.
“Pullthebathingsuitdown,Red.Letmeseethoseperfecttits.”
MythumbshookunderthestrapsasIlickmylipsandswallowagainstthedrynessinmythroat.Peelingthewetnylonback,Iholdhisgaze.Itburnslikehotcoals,followingmyeverymovement.
“Good.Now,playwithyournippleswhileyoutellmemoreaboutlastnight.”
Hedoesn’tmoveaninch,andItrytogathercouragetokeepgoingbecause,whileI’vehadsomegoodsexinmylife,I’vehadnothinglikethis.
OranyonelikeCade.
Myforefingersandthumbstwistmynipples,anditmakesmyvoicegoallbreathywhenIsay,“Ilikedwhenyoucameafterme.I’msorryIstormedoffbeforeyoucouldfinishtalking.”
Heblinksatme,likehe’salittlesurprisedbywhatIjusttoldhim.“Youdon’tneedtoapologize,Red.Ihaven’texactlysentclearsignalswithyou.”
Pinch.Roll.Swipe.Thetruthtumblesout.
“NeitherhaveI.”
Hisjawshifts.“NoonewouldexpectyoutobethematureoneinthisrelationshipwhenI’mtheonewho’sinhislatethirties.”
Itipmynoseup,refusingtoletthatcommentmakemefeelchildishoryoung.Cadeisn’tlookingatmethatway,soIpushthethoughtaway,focusingonanotherwordheused.
Myhandssmoothoverthefullnessofmybreasts,andhewatches,eyesgluedtome,hislengthstraininghardathispants.“Isthatwhatthisis?Arelationship?”
IrealizeIwanthimtosayyes—takecontrolofhowoutofcontrolI’mfeelingaroundhim—andtellmehowthisisgoingtowork.BecauseIwantsomethingtowork.
Buthesays,“It’swhateveryou’recomfortablewith,Red.Wecanletitbegradual.Wecanskipalabel.Wecanfigureitoutwhenthetimecomes.Butwhateveritis,it’simportanttome.You’reimportanttome.”
MyhandsstopmovingbecauseIfeellikethismightbeachancetotellhimIwanthimtogofullcavemanandtellmeI’mstayingherewithhimandLuke.
I’veflittedarounddoingwhateverIwantforyearswithnorealtethertoanythingexceptmybestfriendandmybrother.I’veenjoyedseeinghiscareertakeoff,butnoneofthatwasforme.
Ifeelgroundedouthere.Atthishouse.WithCadeandLuke.It’shappenedslowly,butIfeellikeIbelonghere,whichseemsabsolutelyinsanetoblurtouttothismanwhojustveryclearlyreiteratedouragedifferenceorpointedtomymaturityasareasonformybehavior.
Andhe’snotwrong.I’vealwaysbeenalittleaversetogrowingupandsettlingdown,butI’mfindingIwantnothingmore.AftersomuchtimespinningaroundnotknowingwhatIwant,IthinkImighthavefinallyfigureditout.
“You’reimportanttometoo,Cade,”iswhatIsettleon,becauseIknowheneedstohearthat.He’shomedinonmyinsecurities,andI’vehomedinonhis.
Webuildeachotherup.Wetidyoneanother’slooseends.Wefitsoperfectly.
“Good.But,Red,Idon’tthinkItoldyoutostopplayingwiththosetits.”Hisvoicechanges,takingonaplayfuledgeashetakeslong,casualstepstowardthehottub,peelinghisshirtawayanddroppingitonthebrickpatio.
“Yeah,butnowyou’restandingouttherelookinglikeatotalsnack,andIwantyoutocomeplaywiththeminstead,”Ipoutdramaticallywhilemyhandsmoveagain.
Hechucklesandleanshischiseledforearmsontherimofthehottub.“Fuckingdesperate,”hemurmurs,shakinghishead.
“Hey,yo—”
“Sitontheedgeofthetub,baby.YoutoldmeIcouldwatchyoutouchyourselfwhileyouthoughtaboutsuckingmycockontheporch.AndIknowyou’reawomanwhokeepsherword.”
Ipracticallypurrunderthatcompliment.BecauseIamthetypeofwomanwhokeepsherword.I’mfiercelyloyal,andthat’ssomethingI’vealwaystakenpridein.I’mtrustworthyandagoodfriend.Imightnotbeahighachiever,butyoucancountonmetobethereifyouneedtoburyabodyinthemiddleofthenight.
IdoasCadesays,liftingmyselfontotheledge,steamswirlingoffmyskinasIrisefromthewater.
“Fuck.”HeholdsafistupoverhismouthandstaresatmelikeImightbehislastmeal.“Thatfuckingbathingsuit.”
“Thisone?”Iask,pullingituptightsoitsqueezesmypussyinthewaythatdriveshimwild.
“Youalmostmademeloseitthatnight,youknow?”
“Iwishyouhad.”
“Idon’t.”Herepliessmoothly,andIarchabrowathim.“Don’tgivemethatlook,Red.Itwouldn’thavebeenthesameandyouknowit.Iwouldn’thaveknownyouthewayIdonow.YouwouldhavestillthoughtIwasanasshole.”
“WhosaysIdon’tanymore?”
Hegivesmehisdisapprovingscowl.“BetweenthenandnowI’ve…”hetrailsoff,glancingawayforamoment,thinkingcarefullyaboutthenextwords,“gottentoknowyouandcometocareaboutyouinawayIdidn’texpect.”
“Same,”Ireply,likeanidiotwhodoesn’twanttothrowherselfacrossthehottubandsay,Actually,IthinkI’mfallingforyou!Hehehe.
Hestaresatme,butlike,intome.Hestaresatmelikehereallyknowsme,likehecouldpulloutallmydeepest,darkestsecretsandinsecurities.Ialmostgigglebecauseinalotofwayshealreadyhas.
IwonderifhecantellthatI’mlosingcontrolwherehe’sconcerned.
IdecideIdon’tcare,soIwidenmylegsandpullmybathingsuittotheside,baringmyselftohim,smilingwhenhiseyesflareinperfecttimewithhisnostrils.
“Youweresojealousthatnight,”Isay.“Soangry.Notatme,Icouldtellthatmuch.Butatyourselfforwantingme.AndIcouldn’twaittowatchyoucomeundone.”
Iswipeafingerthroughmylips,feelingtheslipperywetnessbetweenthemjustfromhavingCade’seyesonme.
“Iwastoorough,”hesays,lickinghislips,buthedoesn’tlooksorry.
“AndIlikedit.No.Ilovedit.”Ipresslightlyonmyclit,teasingmyselfforhim,lettinghimwatch.“Yourhandsinmyhair.”HegroansasIproponefootupontheedge,feelingmoreandmorebold.Moreandmoreturnedonbythewayhe’slookingatme.“Yourcockinmymouth.Hardboardsbitingatmyknees.”
Iteasemyslitagain,dippingafingerinbutonlytothefirstknuckle.“Thewaythemusclesinyourlegsflexedbeneathmyhands.Ifeltlikeagoddess.Andthefactthatanyonecouldhavewalkedupandseenustogether?Ilovedit.”
Hisjawpopsunderthestrainofholdinghimselfback.Icanseethemusclesinhisforearmsripplingasherubshishandstogether.It’slikehejustneedssomethingtodowiththemthatisn’trippingthishottubaparttogettome.
“Youwantedeveryonetoknowthatmouthismine,Red?”
Inod.Histhroatbobs.“Youlookedlikeagoddesstoo.Youalwaysdo.Youshouldseeyourselfrightnow.Allthatprettycopperhairstucktoyourshoulders.”Hiseyestrailoverme.“Titsoutandheaving.Beggingtobefucked.”Hisgazemovesdownovermytorso.“Flimsybathingsuitallbunchedup,provinghowfuckinguselessitisathidingyourbody.”
Hiseyesflarewhentheylandbetweenmylegs,wheremyfingersarestillswipinglightlyovermypussy.“Thatcockteaseofatightlittlecuntalloutondisplayforme.Begging.Justlikeeveryotherinchofyourbody.”
Awhimperspillsfrommylipsandheatrushesoutthrougheverylimb.IfeellikeIcouldturntoputtyforhimandhisfilthywords.Crasswordsthatarereverentatthesametime.Sofullofadmiration.Possession.
“Stopfuckingaroundandshowmehowprettyyoulookwithyourfingersshovedinside,baby.”Hisvoicesoundsstrangledashemoveshiseyestomine.There’ssomethingonhisfaceIcan’tquiteplace.Avulnerabilitythatpopsuponlynowandthen.
AlookthatsaysheneedsmeasbadlyasIneedhim.Inonesmoothmovement,Islideonefingerin,thentwo.Buthedoesn’twatchbetweenmylegs,hiseyesstayonmyface.Ablushrushesovermycheeks.
Thisshouldfeeldirty,abitplayful,butitfeelslikeworshipandhe’snoteventouchingme.
“Hasanybodyevertoldyouhowincredibleyouare,Willa?”Iswallow.“Howfun?Howsmart?Howgoddamnwitty?”
Fuck.Hiswordsarelikeabaseballbattothechest.Totallyoutofleftfield.
Mylipspopopen,andonlyasmallsqueakingsoundcomesout.Itrytocoverbysaying,“Whataboutpretty?Igetthatalot.”BecauseI’mnotsureincrediblehaseverreallyhappened.
Heshakeshisheadbeforesteppingintothehottub,stillwearingthoseloungepantsthatskimhisbodysodeliciously.
Hedropsintothewater,tonedarmsglidinghimacrosstomeinonesmoothmovement.“You’restillweari—”
“No.Prettygirlsdon’tmakemefeellikethis.”Hishandwrapsaroundmycalfwhiletheothercomestoholdmyhandbetweenmylegs.Hetakescontrolofthathand,makingmepumpinandoutofmyselfacoupleoftimes.
“Likewhat?”Ibreathe,headtilteddown,eyesfixedonthemansubmergedbetweenmylegs.
“Totallyoutofcontrol.”
Andthenhedropshismouthtome.Myheadtipsback,andhemakesmefeeltotallyoutofcontroltoo.
Hesucksatmyclit.Licksatmylips.Humslikehelovesthetaste.Allwhilestillworkingmyhandwithhis.
“Keepgoing,baby,”isallhesayswhenhedrawshishandawaytogripmythigh.
Mylegsendupwrappedaroundhisneck,onehandproppedonthedeckwhileCadeEatonlaysmeoutandmakesamealofme.
It’sthecordedmusclesinhisback,thesightofwetfabricbeneaththewater—proofthathecouldn’tholdhimselfbackevenasecondlonger—thathasmebarrelingquicklytowardthatcliff.
Thesameonehe’sbeenpushingmeoffforaboutthelasttwenty-fourhours.
Theonehe’salwaysatthebottomoftocatchmewhenIfall.
AndfallIdo.
Withmyfingersthrustinginandouteasily,andhisexperttongueworkingme,Ibiteout,“Cade!Fuck!”Allthattinglypressureinsidemeexplodes.Downmyinnerthighs.Upmyspine.
Straighttomyheart.
Hishandsarealloverme,pullingmeintothewater,slidingovermepossessively.Myass,myribs,fingerstrailingupthecolumnofmyspine,untilheholdsmecloseandwhispersinmyear,“Fuckingincredible.”
Iturnandkisshisstubbledcheek,seeingthecornerofhismouthlift.ButIdon’tgettoseethesmallsmileforlongbecausehe’sturningus,puttingmedowninthewaterwhilehepushestostandaboveme.
Hepushesthewetfabricdown,lettinghisthick,proudcockjutupbetweenus.
Ilickmylipsandhesmirks.“No,baby.First,I’mfuckingthoseprettytits,thenyoucanhaveataste.”
“Okay,deal,”IreplyasIquicklydrawcloser.
Alaughrumblesinhischest.“Soeager.I’lladdthattoyourlistofadmirabletraits.Nowputmycockbetweenyourbreastsandpushthemtogether.It’smyturnnow.”
“Youliketowatch,huh,Eaton?”Iteasewhiledoingashetoldme.
“Iliketowatchyou,Red.”
Ishakemyhead,likeitmightwardawaythebutterflieseruptinginmystomach.I’veneverdonethisbefore,andit’sexciting—hiscockonmychest,breastspushedtightlyaroundhisgirth,adropofwhiteglisteningonhisthickhead.Iglanceupathimandsmile.Histonguedartsoutoverhisbottomlip,andthenbothlipsflatteninconcentration.Armsslungbackbehindhimself,hethrusts.Thewaterlubricatesus,andhismovementsareslowandmeasured.
Hismouthisslightlyopen,chiseledcheeksslackashewatcheshimselfslidingbetweenmybreasts.Wedon’ttalk.Ithinkwe’rebothinabitofatrance—ormaybewe’vesaidenoughtonight.
Maybehe’sfeelingjustasexposedasIam.
MaybeifIfeellikeagoddesswhenwe’retogether,hefeelslikeagod.
Maybewebothjustrevelinthatfeeling.
Myarousalhasn’tabatedandwatchinghimslidehiscockthroughmytitsisgettingmeworkedupalloveragain.Everytimehemurmurs,“Fuck,”inthatdeepbreathyvoice,mypussyclenches.
“Willa,I’mgoingtocome.”
“Yes,”Ihiss,bitingatmylip,proppingmychestinthemostinvitingangle,lovingwatchinghimcomeapartforme.
AndthenIfeelit.Cadegoesstillandhiscockthrobsandtwitches.Hiscumshootsoutovermychest.Oneshothitsmychin,andhegroans,whichturnstoaquietsighashishandstrokesthebackofmyhead.
Iriseandstandbeforehim,drippingwithhisseed.“Thatwasfun.”
Cadehuffsoutadeep,appreciativechuckle.“God,wasitever.”Andthenhiseyesareburningoverme,assessinghishandywork.
“HowdoIlook?”Iquirkabrowandarchmyback.
“Likeyou’remine,”hegrowls.
Thosewords.Mybodyachesformore.Iwanthimtobeminetoo.“Yeah?Youlikethislookonme?”
“Itwouldbebetterlikethis.”Heswipeshisthumbovermychinandinonesmoothmovement,paintsmylipswiththestrayshotofcum.Heleansbackandlooksatmewithamischievousgrinonhisface.“Definitelymine.”
“You’reasavage,Eaton.”Ilaughlightly,beforedartingmytongueouttotastewhatheputthere.“AndIloveit.”
“Goodthing,Red.”Heslipsintothewater,draggingmedownwithhimtowashusoff.“BecauseI’mgoingtohaulyourfineasstomycavenow.Keepyouonyourback,comingallnightlong.”
Thenhescoopsmeupandcarriesmeintothehouse.
Likeatotalsavage.
Onethatkeepsmecomingallnightlong.27Cade
Cade:Luke’sbirthdaypartyisonSaturdayat2p.m.
Talia:Canwebumpittonoon?Ihavedinnerplansthatnightandneedtimetogetready.
Cade:No,wecannotbumpyourchild’ssixthbirthdaypartytoaccommodateyourdinnerplans.
Talia:It’sonlytwohours.
Cade:Exactly.
Talia:Iforgotwhatastickinthemudyouare.
Cade:Well,hereIam.Refreshingyourmemory.Ifyoucan’tmakeit,pleaseletmeknowsothatIcanprepareLuke.
Talia:Don’tbesodramatic.I’llbethere.IjustmightbeoverdressedsoIcanmakeitbacktothecityintime.
Cade:That’sfine.Lukewon’tcare.
Talia:Whataboutyou?Youalwaysdidenjoymeinapairofheels.
Cade:Sodideveryotherguyintown.
Talia:Fuckyou.
***
“You’reactingweird.”IglancedownatSummer,whoisstaringoutoverthebackfield,assessingitlikeit’stheMetGalaorsomething.SheandWillahavebeenupsinceearlythismorningsettingLuke’spartyupinthehayfield,perhisrequest.
There’sabouncycastleandatentwithsomeweirdfuckingguyinhead-to-toekhakisittingunderitwhoapparentlybroughtsnakesandlizardstoshowthekids.There’sanothertentwithabuffet-styletablecoveredinthingsWillahasbeenbakingfordays.IknowbecauseItestedtheicingbyswipingitonherneckandlickingitoff.
Itwasfuckingdelicious.
She’sgotlemonadewithlemonsandstrawberriesfloatinginit.It’sadorable.She’sgotlittleplateswithpoopemojisonthemthatLukepickedoutwithher.Thetableclothsmatch.OnlyWillacouldtakeshitplatesandsomehowtiethemintoabeautifuloutdoorbirthdaypartyforasix-year-old.
Iwouldn’thaveevenlethimgetthem,butshejustlaughedandtossedtheminthebasket.“Excellentchoice!”shesaid,andLukebeamed
“Yeah.Iknow,”IfinallyreplytoSummer.BecauseIamactingweird.WillaandIhavebeensneakingaroundforacoupleofweeks,andIdon’twanttosneakanymore.I’mtryinghardnottoscaretheshitoutofherbybeingsosureabouteverything.Butthefactofthematteris,Iamsure.
I’vemademymistakes.I’velivedwiththefallouts.I’vespentyearsthinkingaboutmylifeandwhatitwouldtakeformetogivesomeoneachanceagain.
AndwatchingthiswomanplanwhatImeanttobeasimplebackyardbarbecueforakidandinsteadtreatingitlikeit’sthecelebrationofthecenturyisjustthecherryontop.
Itfeelsfast,andyetitdoesn’t.Iwouldn’thavegivenintothisifitdidn’tfeelright.
“CadeEaton.”Summer’sdarkeyesaresparklingatmerightnow,andherjawdropsasshescansmyface.Sharpasatack,thisone.ItoldRhettoncethatIlovedherbecauseshewasgoodforhimbuthatedthatshewassmarterthanme.
Andthismomentdoesnothingbutprovethatstatement.
“You’reinlovewithmybestfriend,aren’tyou?”
Icrossmyarmsovermychestandlookaway.Love.IwasneversureIcouldlovesomeoneinthewayeveryonetalksaboutit.Myhearthastakentoomanyshit-kickingsovertheyears.Mymom.Talia.WhatTaliameantforthecoursemylifetook.AllthethingsImissedouton,whichIhatetoevenmentionbecauseIhaveLuke.ButI’dbealiarifIsaidIneverthoughtaboutwhatImighthavedonedifferentlyhadlifedealtmeadifferenthand.
MaybeI’dberodeoing.OrtravelingalloverNorthAmerica,rollinginthecashthatcomesfromsellingtop-of-the-linehorses.
MaybeI’dbetrainingalldayandridingbucklebunniesallnight.
Allthosemaybes.ButasIwatchWillaputlittleweightedclipsonthetableclothsonothingblowsaway,Iknowthatnoneofthosemaybeswouldhavebeenright.
Thehanddealttomeiswhatbroughthertomyfrontstep.
“Yeah,”Igrumble,stillrefusingtolookatSummer.
Shemakesasatisfiedlittlehummingnoise,andwhenIpeekoutofthecornerofmyeyeather,shewinksandgivesmeasidehug.She’ssotinythatit’sawkward.Shedoesn’thaveWilla’sheightorlonglimbs.
“Youshouldtellher.”
“Tellher?”
Sheshrugs.“Yeah.IthinkWillawouldwanttoknowthat.”
Isnort.“SothatIcanscareheraway?”
Herlipscurveupslowly.“Idon’tthinkyou’llbeabletoscareWillaaway,”isallshesaysbeforegivingmeanothersqueezeandwalkingintheoppositedirection.
Shedropsatruthbombcasuallyandthenjustleavesmetooveranalyzethehelloutofit.
***
ThepartyisalreadyinfullswingbythetimeTaliadeignstoblessuswithherpresence.Idon’tevenhavetoturntoseeherbecauseIhear,“Mybaaabyyy!”inherhigh,sugaryvoice.
Herbaby.Ican’tevenstopmyeyesfromrollinguptotheskywhenIhearit.It’saridiculousthingtosaytoachildyouseeonceayearandwalkedawayfromwithoutagoodbye.
IcatchsightofWillatalkingtomydadandsomeoftheotherparents.She’swearinganorangedresswithlittlewhitepolkadotsandasoftflowingskirt.Iwanttoflipitupandseewhat’sunderneath.
Butnow,watchingthewayshestiffensandherfingerscrinkleinonthepoopemojicupshe’sholding,Iwanttothrowmyarmaroundhershoulderandreassureher.Iwanttomakehercheekspinkagainbecausethey’regoingpalerightbeforemyeyes.
Shewouldn’twantmetothough.She’stoofierce,tooproud.SoIlookaway,becauseifIstayeyeingher,I’mgoingtodoitanyway.
LukegivesTaliaastiffhug,kindofpattingheronherslenderbackasshemaulshim.Iwishshewouldn’twaltzintohispartylate,whenshewanteditearlier,andstillmakeitallabouther.
Ifnothingelse,it’sveryonbrandforher.
“Letmeseeyou.”She’sdressedtotheninesinaskin-tightdressandhighheelsthataresinkingintothegrassassheassesseshim.“Howdidyougrowupsofast?”
IhearRhettsnort.
Loud.
Loudenoughthatsheturnsavenomousglareathim.
Hejustsmilesback.“Hi,Talia.Longtimenosee.”
Fuckingshitdisturber.IalwaysbitemytongueaboutheraroundLukebecauseIwanthimtomakehisowndecisionsabouthismother.Ifhewantsarelationshipwithheroneday,Idon’twanthimthinkingIpoisonedhimagainsther.ItkillsmebutIknowit’sright.
WhichiswhyIbitebackmylaughatherbrittlesmileandthewayhereyespinch.She’slikethisbeautifulmirageontheoutside,allsourontheinside.Andiflookscouldkill,Rhettwouldkeeloveronthespot.
Luckily,that’snotthecase,andheraiseshispoopemojicuptowardherinasilentcheers.
BehindmeIhearasnickerthatsoundsdistinctlylikemydad.Idon’tturn,though,becauseLukeislookingsouncomfortablewitheveryonewatchingthatallIcanthinkaboutisgettingtohim.
“Hi,Talia.”IinterrupttheawkwardmomentbystridingforwardwithmyhandouttoshakehersasIgiveLuke’sshoulderafirmsqueeze.
“Ohplease,Cade.Arewesofargonethatweneedtoshakehands?”Hergiggletrillsandgratesonmynerves.Itdoesn’tsoundlikewindchimesthewayWilla’sdidthatdayinLePamplemousseorthewayitdoeswhenIstepintothehouseafteralong,harddayatwork.AndLuke’sdoesn’tblendinwithitatall.
Lukestandsthereawkwardly,mostlikelyhittingtheagewherehe’spiecingthesethingstogether,notingthebodylanguageanddrawinghisownconclusions.
IstandwoodenlywhileTaliawrapsherarmsaroundme.Onehandrubsupthebackofmyneck,andIinstantlyreachupandgripherelbow,pullingherarmaway,evenasshesneaksakissagainstmycheek.
“Ohgosh”—shelaughs—“letmegetthatforyou.”Andthenshe’sstandingclosetome,lickingherthumbandrubbingatmycheek,tryingtogetthethicklayeroflipstickoffmyskin.
Markingherterritory.
It’sbeenyearsandTaliahasn’tchangedabit.She’salwaysplayingsomegame.ThedifferenceisthatnowIseeit.Ididn’tallthoseyearsago.Isawaprettypackageandawillingbody.
Iwashornyandstupid,andshewascalculated.
“It’sfine.I’llgetit.”Istepawayasthesurroundingconversationpicksbackup,whichsomehowmakesmefeelbetter.Likeourcomplicatedlittlefamilyisn’tthecenterofattention.IdesperatelywanttoturnaroundandcheckonWilla,butIalsoknowTaliawillpickuponitimmediately.
AndI’mnotsubjectingWillatohershit.Notuntilthingswithherandmearesolid.Official.
Ishouldhavemadethingsofficialalready.I’mkickingmyselfnow.Thepadsofmyfingersitchtotouchher,torunoverherneckreassuringly.Possessively.
“Gosh,Cade.You’relikeagoodscotch.Youjustkeepgettingbetterwithage.”TaliareachesouttorunherFrench-tippedfingersovermyshoulder,likeshehassomesortofrighttotouchme.Likeshe’sforgottenourtextexchangeearlierthisweek.Shewasalwaysforward,andmaybeshe’salwaysbeenlikethiswhensheshowsuponceayear.
Maybeitjustdidn’tbothermebeforenow.
Allthesame,Itakeanotherstepback,pullingLukeinfrontofmeandputtingbothmyhandsonhisshoulders.“Howhaveyoubeen?”
“Good.”Sheglancesaroundthespaceinthefield.“Youknow,livinginthecity.Keepingbusy.”
IrealizeIdon’tknowwhatshedoes,butIalsodon’tcare.Sheshowedupwithanothermanoneyear,pawingathimlikeitwasgoingtomakemejealous.
Itdidn’t.
“InCalgary?”Lukeasksbrightly.
“Yes,honey.”Shelooksdownathimwithabigsmile.“Handsomelikeyourdaddy,butwithMom’sblueeyes.”
“MynannyisfromCalgary!”isLuke’sresponse.
“Ananny!Howadorable.”ShebendsdowntoseeeyetoeyewithLuke.“Issheheretoday?I’dlovetomeether.”
BeforeIcaninterject,Luketearsaway.Ican’tblamehimforwantingtobeclosetoWilla.She’sacomforttohim,wherethisotherwomanwholivesalittleoveranhourawaycan’tbothertovisithimmorethanonceayear.
IturnjustintimetoseeWilla’seyesdroppingfrommyframedowntoLuke.
IalsoseeTaliaglanceoverhershoulderandwinkatme.28Willa
Rhett:YouknowMedusa?
Willa:Notpersonally,no.
Rhett:Rememberthepartaboutnotlookingherintheeyes?
Willa:I’vealwayskindoflikedMedusa.IfIwereher,I’dwannaturnmenintostonetoo.
Rhett:PretendTaliaisMedusa.Butaversionwedon’tlike.
***
ThisbitchislikeasplinterIcan’tgetout.ThesightofhernailsslidingoverCade’sneckburneditselfintomymind.She’sdronedonandonaboutherself,andI’veendureditwithalevelofpolitenessI’mextendingtoheronlybecauseshebirthedoneofmyfavoritepeopleintheworld.
Andthatmustcountforsomething.
“Youhavetobesosickoflivingouthere.”
Ismileflatly,staringatthesquealingkidsinthehugebouncycastle.“Notreally,”IreplywhileavoidingSummer’seyes.BecausethelasttimeIlookedather,sheheldherhandsupbesideherheadandmadelittledevilhornswithanevilscrunched-upface.
“Aren’tyouboredthough?Imean,Igrewuphere.Iknowwhatit’slike.Onceyou’vehadatasteofthecity,it’shardtocomeback.”
“Imean,Calgaryisn’texactlyParis,”Iquipbecauseshe’sactinglikeit’ssomeglitz-and-glamplace.
“Butwhatdoyoudoallday?I’dgocrazy.That’swhyIhadtogetout,youknow?”
“No,Idon’tknow,”ismyreply,becausemypatienceiswearingthin,andmypersonalityonlyallowsmetokeepmymouthshutforsolong.Thepressureismountingandgivingintomyredheadstreakishellaappealingrightaboutnow.
“Excuseme?”Herbigblueeyesgowide,herpinklipsturningdown.
Ofcourse,shehastobesmokinghot.Cadecouldn’thavebeenmarriedtosomeoneuglytomakemefeelbetteraboutmyself.I’devensettleforaveragelooking,butno,she’saten.Aneleven.
“Idon’tknowwhatyoumean,”Iclarify.“Ilovelivingouthere.Yoursonissmartandfun.Thelandisbeautiful.Cadeworkshardtoprovideforhim.I’mnotboredatall.”
Awolfishsmilespreadsacrossherlips.“Oh.Isee.”
Irefusetoreact.“You’regoingtoneedtoclarify.”
“It’sokay.Usladiescanhaveoursecrets.We’renotsodifferent,youandI.”Mybrowquirksather,andwhatIwanttosayisthatwecouldnotbemoredifferentifwetried.“Irecommendenjoyinghimwhileyou’rehere.Butdon’tholdyourbreath.Thatmanisascoldastheycome.Ithoughtgettingpregnantmighttiehimdown.Anditdid.”
Mymindreels.“Pardonme?”
Shewavesahandandcarrieson.“Birthcontrol,nobirthcontrol,who’sreallytosay?Youknow?Buthewasstillboring.Hemarriedmelikeitwastickingalineoffato-dolist.Imean,sure,hisdickisbig,butthatcanonlymakeupforsomuch.You’llsee.Robbingthecradlewilleatawayathishonoreventually.”Thesmilesheturnsonmeisvicious.“Enjoytheridewhileyou’vegotit.I’llstillalwaysbethemotherofhischild.”
IpromisedmyselfI’dbecoolaroundthiswoman.Istoodinthemirrorandgavemyselfapeptalk,andIonlydothatwhenI’mdrunkandconvincingmyselftosoberup.ButI’vebeentellingmyselftogiveherthebenefitofthedoubt,tonotjudgeher,tonotbejealousofher,andhereIamdoingallofthosethings.
“Alright.Well,that’lldoit,”Iannounce,clappingmyhands.
Sheblinksinnocently,butthere’sapleasedcurvetohermouth.Everywordshepickedwascarefullycraftedtogetundermyskin.AndIlether.WhatcanIsay?I’maheart-on-my-sleevetypeofgal.
“Whatwilldoit?”
IgiveherthefakestsmileIcanmusterasIturntowalkaway.“I’mnotinhellyet,lady.Don’tneedtospendmytimehangingoutwiththedevil.”
Asmallscoffingsounderuptsbehindme,butIdon’tstop.Istrideacrossthefield,ignoringthelooksI’mgarneringasItrytokeepasereneexpressiononmyface.IhaveafeelingI’mgivingmajorserialkillervibesatthiscurrentjuncture.
Thewaymyhandshavecurledintofistsmightalsobeadeadgiveaway.
WhenIstepintothehouse,thescreendoorcrashesshutbehindmewitharattleandmyconfidenceshakesinperfecttime.Thebridgeofmynoseburns,andIshakemyheadtoclearawaythetearsthatarespringingupinmyeyes.
It’sthemiddleoftheafternoonatachild’sbirthdayparty,andIneedafuckingdrinksoIcanprocesswhatthatshe-deviljusttoldme.Orforgetitentirely.
Ipullabottleofwhitewinefromthefreezer.Itslipsinmyclammypalmwhenthescreendoorslamsagain.Ikeepmyheaddown,settingthebottleonthecounterandpullingthetinfoilwrapperoffthetop.
“Whatareyoudoing?”Cade’svoiceisconcerned.He’ssobigthatheblocksoutachunkofthelightfilteringintothekitchen.
“Havingadrink,”Imutter.
Idon’thavetolookdirectlyathimtoknowthathe’sjustcrossedhisarmsoverhischestandwidenedhisstance.
“Why?”
“BecauseIneedone.”
“Willa.Lookatme.”Histoneleavesnoroomforargument,soIplantmyhandsonthecountertopandstarebackathim.“Good.Nowtellmewhat’sgoingon.”
“That’swhyIneedadrink.”
Cade’stongueswipesacrosshisteethasheregardsme.“Tellmewhathappened,andI’llpouryouadrinkmyself.”
“Yourwifejusttoldmeshegotpregnantonpurpose,”Iblurt.“Ithinkherwordswerebirthcontrol,nobirthcontrol,who’stosay?”Myvoiceisshrillandpanicked.
Andthenthismanreallysendsmeforaloop,becausehefuckinglaughs.“Ex-wife.”
“Whythefuckareyoulaughing?Ijusttoldyouthatthesmokinghotviperbitchinyourbackyardtrickedyouintoknockingherup.”
Hisshouldersshake,andoneheavilyveinedhandpropsupagainsthisforeheadtocoverhiseyes.“Ofcourse,shedid.”Hesoundsamused,flabbergasted.
“Isthisfunny?Aren’tyoumad?Shejustadmittedtobeinganatrociouspersonandyou’resuddenlyMr.Giggles?Shesaidyouwererobbingthecradlewithme!”
Helaughsharder,wheezingout,“Mr.Giggles?”
“Ugh!”Igrowlinfrustration,tooworkeduptosithereandlaughaboutherbabydaddyentrapmentscandal.
“AndyouhadtobemarriedtosomeonewholookslikeaVictoria’sSecretmodel,”IraveasIrummagethedrawerstofindawineopener.“Andshe’sgotthatstupid,breathyvoicethatI’veonlyeverheardinporn.”
Anotherdrawer.Nocorkscrew.IspinonCade,whoisgivingmehisfullattentionnow.“IsweartoGodifshelayshershinymanicuredclawsonyouonemoretime,I’mgoingtocutherhandscleanoff.”
“You’resovicious,Red,”hesayswithastupidglintinhiseye,likethisisalljusthilarioustohim.“Areyoujealous,baby?”
Iturnawayagain,notwantingtolookathowhotheisandseeherwithhim.Iamhavingafull-onmeltdown,andIhateeverythingaboutthissituation.I’veneverfeltlikethisbefore,andit’sfuckingconfusing.
“Yes,I’mjealous.She’shadeverythingwithyouandI’mjustthefuckingnanny.”God,Ihatethewaythosewordssoundcomingoutofmymouth.Heatsearsmychest.Embarrassmentfuseswithaheavydoseofenvy.
Ipulladraweropenandriflethroughittobusymyshakinghands.
Myfingersrunupagainstsomethingsilkyinthedrawerfullofscissors,elastics,clips,andPost-itnotes.Igrabandpullandpeerdownintomypalm.
TheblackpantiesIdroppedinthatcoffeeshopallthoseweeksago.
Turningback,Idangletheminmyfingers.Cadedoesn’tlooksurprisedatall;hejustregardsmewithhisAnnoyedScowl.
“Youkeptthese?”Idemand,soundingpetulanteventomyself.“Youtoldmeyouthrewthemaway.”
“Ilied,”hegritsout.
“Why?”
“Becauseyou’veneverbeenjustthenanny,Willa.”MychestlurchesasIlookbackathim,feelingsuspendedintime.“You’vealwaysbeenmore.ThewomanIwantedbutwouldn’tletmyselfhave.”
“Icouldreallyusethatdrinknow,”Isay,stillstaringathim.
“No.You’regoingtostandhereandlistentome.”Heprowlstowardmeinawaythatsetsmyheartracing.Mybloodheatsinmyveins.
Whenhe’sstandingrightinfrontofme,hetipsmychinupandforcesmetolookintohiseyes.“I’mnotmadaboutwhateverTaliatoldyoubecauseIdon’tgiveafuckaboutherandherantics.IhaveLuke.Wouldn’ttradehimfortheworld.Howthatcameaboutdoesn’tevenmatteranymorebecauseItrulyjustdonotcare.”
Myheavybreathingactsasabackdroptothedeepraspofhisvoice.
“DoyouknowwhatIcareaboutthough?”Hisfingersbiteintomyskin.“You,Willa.Icareaboutyou.Youhavenothing—andImeannothing—tobejealousof.”
“Butshe’shadeverything.EverythingIdidn’tevenrealizeIwanted,andshejusttookitallforgrantedandwalkedaway.Andnowshe’shereactingallentitled,andI’msojealousthatmyteethachewithit.Ihavenever,neverfeltlikethis,andIwantittostop.”Thelastpartcomesoutpleading,likehecantakeawaytheballofanxietylodgedinmychest.
“Youdon’twantwhatshe’shad.Youwantmore.Youdeservemore.AndI’mgoingtogiveittoyou.Nodifyouunderstandme.”
Withadeepsigh,Inod,eyeslockedonhis.Heartracingintimewithhis.“Butshe—”
Hecutsmeoff.“IthoughtItoldyoutostopandlistentome?”
“Youdidbut—”
“Ifyoucan’tstoprunningyourmouthwiththatself-sabotagingbullshit,Iwillshutitforyou.”Hishandcupsmycheektenderly.“IloveLuke.YouloveLuke.Andthethreeofusfeelrighttogether.Tonightshe’llbegoneandyou’llstillbehere.Attheendofthissummer,you’llleave,butyou’llbeback.Becausethere’snowayinhellthatthisendshere.Iwon’tallowit.We’regoingtofigurethisout.Yougotme?”
Iswallowhard,searchinghisdark,seriouseyes,hisfurrowedbrow,thelookofintensityonhisface.Thelittlevoiceinmyheadsayshe’sjoking,butIknowCadewellenoughtoknowhewouldn’tjokeaboutthis.
“But—”
Intheblinkofaneye,he’sadjustedhisgriptopopopenmyjawandstuffsmypantiesinside.MyiriseswidenasheworksthefabricinandIstandstockstill,tooshockedtostophim.Tooturnedontowantto.
“Therearenobutsaboutit,Red.Nowgetyourpalmsflatonthecounterandbendover.”
Istillstareathimwide-eyed,alittleshockedbyhowquicklythisconversationhasflipped.Withagentlehandonmyshoulder,heturnsmeaway,andIletmyhandsslideacrossthebarecountertop.
“That’smygirl,”hemurmurs,pushingdownbetweenmyshoulderbladessothatmytorsopressesagainstthecounter,theedgeofthecoolmarblebitingintomyhips.“Teasingmewiththisdressallafternoon.TheonlythingIcanthinkaboutisbendingyouoverandcheckingwhatyou’rewearingunderneath.”
Imoanagainstthefabricinmymouth,hipsshimmyingasIarchmybackinasilentinvitationforhimtocheck.
“ShouldIcheck?”Hiscallousedfingersrunupthebackofmythighs,takingthehemofmyfavoritedresswiththemastheygo.Goosebumpseruptacrossmyback,andIhearhisbreathhitchwhenthesoftfabricclearsmybareassandbunchesatthebaseofmyback.“Filthygirl.Walkingaroundouttherewithnopanties.YouwerehopingI’dcheck,weren’tyou?”
Ipressmycheekflatagainstthecoolmarbleandlookbackathim,hiseyesfixedonmyass.Inod.Becauseyeah,Iwantedhimtocheck.Wantedhimtohaulmeintothebathroomandfuckmeagainstthewall.Fuckthenervesrightoutofme.
ButI’mhere,baredtohimintheopenofhiskitchenwithapartyhappeningonlyafewhundredmetersaway.
Hishandsmassagetheglobesofmyass,andIliftmyheadtoseeoutthewindowandcheckifanyonemightbecoming.
“Whatareyoulookingfor,baby?YouthinkI’dstopjustbecausesomeonewalkedin?”Hisfingersglidedownbetweenmylegs,andherunstwogentlefingersthroughmywetfolds.“MaybeTaliawillcatchus,andIcanmakethingsabundantlyclearforbothofyou.BecauseIcanpromiseyou,I’veneverfuckedanyonethewayIfuckyou.”Iclenchandmoan.
“You’dlikethat,wouldn’tyou?”Hisvoiceisallgravel.“Iwouldn’tcare.You’remine,Willa.AndIdon’tgiveafuckwhoknowsit.”
Hisfingersslidein,smoothandslow.Onehandpressesdownonmybackasheleansforwardtowhisper,“Isthatwhatyouneed?Youneedmetobendyouoverrighthereandnow,thensendyoubackouttheredrippingmycumdownyourprettylittlethighstoproveittoyou?”
Mymindraces.Fuck.IsthatwhatIwant?Ibarelyneedtothinkaboutit.IwantthatsobadlyIachewithit.ThepadsofmyfingersslideonthecounterasIglanceovermyshoulderandnod.
“Good,”hebitesout,scramblingwithhisbelt.“BecauseIwantthattoo.”
Withinsecondshe’sdroppedhispantsandimpaledmeonhiscock.Andthere’snothingsoftaboutit.Mybodyclampsaroundhissteelylengththeminuteheshoveshimselfintome.
Oneofhisbighandswrapsaroundmyhipwhiletheotherpressesdownonmyback,holdingmeinplace.
“Youlooksogoodonmycock,Willa,”hegrowlsashisthighsslapagainstmine,andIarchmyselfup,pushingbackathiseverythrust,feelingjustaswildandunhingedashiminthismoment.
Likehecanreadmymind,heleansovermybackandgritsout,“Youwantitall,Willa?Thehouse?Thebabies?Theranch?”
Inodagainbecauseit’sallIcando.Iwantallthat.Withhim.
“Youwantme,Willa?”
“Yes.”Icryoutagainstthesoftfabric,noddingfranticallyasheslamsintome.Iwanthimsobadlyithurts.
“Good.BecauseI’msickofholdingbackwithyou.You’renotgoinganywhere.Youbelonghere,withme.”
Heliftsme,armwrappedaroundmystomachasheclutchesmetohischest.Hisstubbleraspsagainsttheshellofmyear.“RubyourclitwhileI’mfuckingyou.Letmetellyouhowit’sgoingtobe.”
Myheadfallsbackagainsthisshoulderasonehandgathersthefabricofmyskirt.TheoppositeoneimmediatelydivesbetweenmylegsandrubscircleswhileCadeholdsmetight.
“You’regoingtospendasmuchtimeasyouwantatourhouse,”hesays,whilethrustingintomeslowly.“You’regoingtoworkwhateverjobyouwant.Whereveryouwant.Butyou’llalwayshaveaplacehere.Ahomehere.I’llmakeyoucoffeeeverymorning.I’llleaveyouallthePost-itnotesyouwant.I’llcookyourdinnereveryday.I’lleatyourpussyinthehottubbeforebedeverydamnnight.”
Yes.
Iwhimper,almostsagginginreliefathisconfession.Ididn’tevenrealizehowbadlyIneededtohearthathewantsme.Formorethanjustafewweeks.
Hisvoiceisfirmandthenhestops,pressingastubbledkisstomyexposedneckwhilehishandsroammybreastsandIfocusonbreathingthroughmynose.
“Butthispussyismine,Willa.”HedragshislipsovermyskinuntilIcan’teventhinkstraight.Ipressharderonmyclit,feelingmyselfbarreltowardthatfinishline.“Minetofuck.”
Yes.
Irubbackonhimasheholdsmeclose.Everysensationmagnified,moreintensesomehow.Thescrapeofhisbeard.Thepressureofmyfingers.Thelight-headednessseepingin.
Myteethbaredownonthefabricinmymouth.
Ishakeinhishold.
“Minetofill.”
Yes.
Withthathepushesmeontothecounterandunleashes,rightasmyvisionblursandIconvulse,cryingouthismuffledname.MyentirebodysurgeswithfireasIcomeapartbeneathhim.
We’rejustenergy,andheat,andbreath.I’veneverbeensothoroughlyconsumedinmylife.Neverhadsexwithsuchanedgetoit.
“Mine.”Hisgrowlisdownrightferalasheexplodesinsideofme,handstracingmybackreverently.Amanofsuchdichotomies.Hardwordslacedwithlove.Roughhandsfilledwithtenderness.
Immediately,hereachesupandremovesthefabricfrommymouth.Ipantandsuckinair,whichhasmoretodowiththepowerofmyorgasmthanthegaghefashionedforme.Hisbreathsareheavyanduneven,ourskinisdamp.
AndeventhoughIdon’tthinkIcangetanyhotterthanIalreadyam,whenhepullsawayandputsonehandoneachglobeofmyasstowatchmedriphisseed,Ido.
Whenheadds,“Justlikethat,”Ipressmyforeheadtothecoolmarbleandletaquiet,breathychuckleescapeme.
“Jesus.”
Withafirmslap,hehuffsoutalaugh,andit’slikeIcanstillfeelhiseyesonthemostintimatepartsofme.IclearlyhavenoshamebecauseImakenomovetostand.“HaveItoldyouthatyoulookperfectlikethis?”
Irollmyforeheadagainstthemarblecounter,stilltryingtogetmybearings.“No.Ithinkthat’safirstforme.”
Asatisfiednoiserumblesfrombehindme,andIfeelthesoftslideoffabriccoveringmylegs,followedbythegentlepressofakissagainstmyback.“Feelingbetternow?”Cadeasks,pullingmeupgently,handsneverleavingmybodyasheturnsmetofacehim.
“I’mfeelingsomethingalright.”Ismilealittleshylyathim.Imean,howcanInot?Thethingsthatcomeoutofthisman’smoutharedownrightshockingsometimes.
Heeyesmeskeptically,tracingmyfacewithhisgaze.
“I’mfeelingbetter.Just…messy?”Iglancedownatmyself.“I’lljustgocleanup.”Ireachouttoswipemydiscardedpantiesoffthecounter,buthegrabsthemfirst.
Hegivesmethisevilsmirk.Aplayfulsmirk?Maybeit’saplayfulscowl?Butit’sfollowedby,“Nochance.You’reputtingtheseon,andyou’regoingbackouttherelikethis.”
Ishakemyheadathim,amused,ashedropstothegroundandliftsmyfeetgentlyintothelegholesofthesimpleunderwear.Hepressesasoftkisstomystomachandthenhe’sup,movingaroundthekitchen,likethisisallthemostnormalthingintheworld.WhenIstopblushingenoughtofacehimagain,he’spouredmeaglassofwhitewineandiswaitingbythebackdoor.
“Ready?”heaskswithanoutstretchedhandandalopsidedsmileonhisface.AdimpleIneverevennoticedhaspoppedup.Helooksboyishandbeautiful.Andlikehemightbemineafterall.
“I’mgoingtowalkoutintoachild’sbirthdaypartywithabigglassofwineandbrightredcheeks?”Iask,justtoclarify.Becauseitfeelsinsane.
“Don’tforgetaboutyourfreshlyfuckedpussy.Butnooneelsewillseethat.Icovereditupforyou.”
“They’llknowthough.”Ipointathimandwalkinhisdirection.
Theothersideofhismouthpopsup,andhehandsmethewinebeforeheleansincloseandwhispers,“Good,”againstmycheek.29Willa
Cade:Baby,whyareyoublushing?
Willa:BecauseIswearpeoplearelookingatmelikeIjustgotmybrainsfuckedout.
Cade:Youdid.
Willa:Ithinkthesepantiesareruined.
Cade:I’llwashthemforyou.Andthenshovetheminyourmouthagainthenexttimeyousaysomethingrude.
Willa:Fuckoff.
Cade:Careful.Theyhaven’tevenbeenwashedyet.
***
“Rightthereatthebirthdayparty?”Summerwhisper-shoutsacrossthesmalltableatLePamplemousse.
Itakeasipofmymimosaandwinkather.“Isavedanotherhorse,Sum.I’mpracticallyananimalrightsactivistatthispoint.”
Sheshakesherhead.“Goddamn.TheseEatonboysareinsane.”
“Right?I’mdefinitelyinmycountry-boyera.IthinkIjusthaven’tsettleddownbecausethecityboyswanttotalktomeaboutoilfuturesandthesizeoftheirbankaccountlikethatmakesupforthesizeoftheirdi—”
“Willa.”Summer’seyeswiden.“We’reinpublic.”
“Youdon’tevenknowwhatIwasgoingtosay.”
Thelookshegivesmeisdownrightunimpressed.
“Iwasgoingtosaydignity.”
“Thesizeoftheirdignity?”
Ishrugandcovermymouthwithanothersipfromthechampagneflute.“Samethingifyouthinkaboutit.”
“Goodlord.”Shelaughsandtakesabiggulpwhilelookingoutthewindow.“Sojustanera.Ormore?Cadedoesn’tstrikemeasthecasualtype.”
Isigh,lettingthewordminesettleintomybones.IspentallnightsnugglednexttoCadeandspenttheentirepartycatchinghiseyesonme,rakingovermeinanimpolitefashion.WhenIplayed“HappyBirthday”onmyguitar,accompaniedbyLukeonthesmallerguitarthatIgiftedhim,everythingfeltsodamnright.
AndwhenIlookedbackupfromthesong,Taliawasgone.Iwantedtoberelieved,butIfeltsadthatsheleftherownchild’sbirthdaypartywithoutevensayinggoodbyetohim.
“It’snotjustanera,”Ireply.“Idon’tknowwhatI’mgoingtodoyet—becausedoIever?ButIknowyou’llbeseeingmoreofme.It’snotafarcommute,andIdon’tknow,maybeIcanfindsomethingtodoinChestnutSprings.Rhettaskedmetogivehimguitarlessonsyesterday.Didyouknowthat?AndI’llhavetogiveFordmynoticeatthebar.Idolikewatchinghimgetallpissywhenthingsdon’tgohisway.”
Summersnickersbecausesheknowsmybrotherandhownotoriouslyexactingheis.“Thisisbigforyou,Wils.Ican’tsayIsawthiscomingwhenIpushedyouintothisgig.KindathoughtyouandCadewouldhateeachother,tobehonest.”
Ileanbackinmychair.“Wow.Thankyouforsigningmeuptospendmysummerlivingwithamanyouthoughtwouldhateme.”
Shewavesahandatmedismissively.“Iknewyoucouldhandleit.Plus,Lukeisfun.”
Isighhappily.“Yeah.Lukeisthebest.Ididn’tknowI’denjoylifewithakidlikeIam.Itreallydoesn’tevenfeellikework.”
“Uhoh.Haveyougotbabyrabies,Willa?”
Igroanandleanbackinmychair.“WillyoutakebackmyfeministcardifItellyouIreallyjustwanttoliveinthatlittlehouseontheranch,teachguitarlessons,gettitty-fuckedinthehottub,andhaveabunchofadorablebabies?”
Summer’seyesbugout.“Rememberthepartaboutbeinginpublic?Peopleherelistentoeverything.Andalso,no.Nooneistakingbackyourfeministcardifthat’swhatyouwant,Willa.Ican’teventellifyou’rebeingseriousorjokingrightnow.Butraisinggoodhumansisimportantwork.Ifyoucanraisenicepeopleandputthemoutintotheworldlessmessedupthanmeormysister,I’dsayyou’rewinning.”
“Yeah.”Ibitedownonmythumbnailconsideringwhatshe’sjustsaid,consideringifI’mjokingornot.Wonderingifthere’sanythingwrongwithwantingthat.“Lukeisjustsoawesome,youknow?Cade’sdonesuchanamazingjobwithhim.He’sjustsodevoted.”
“Goodlord.”Summertakesanotherswig.
“What?”
“Thetwoofyou.Allmushyandinlove.It’ssoweird.”
Igiveheraflatlook.“Thanks.”
“Weirdandwonderful.Justlikeyou.”
Iconsiderherwordsbeforenodding.“I’llcheerstothat.”
IclearedoutthismorningbecauseCadehadLukehelpinghimdigawalkwaytothehousethatheplanstopave.WhenHarveytrippedontheedgeofanunevenpavingstoneafterafewtoomanydrinksattheafter-party,Cadeinstantlyannouncedthathewasputtingina“propersidewalk.”
Andsureenough,hewasupattheasscrackofdawn,stakingitoutandplottingtheedges.Allwhilewearingthatfuckingbackwardhatthatmademewanttoshovehimdownintothedirtandridehim.
Again.
Instead,IcalledSummerandtoldherIrequiredbrunch.Brunchisourthing.Ithasbeenforyears.AndwitheverythingswirlinginmyheadIneededsomethingfamiliar.Someonefamiliar,someonelogical,andutterlyresponsible.
Instead,Summerhassathereandenabledallthecrazyshitfloatinginmyhead.
***
WhenIpullbackupattheranch,asmilebreaksoutonmyface.
“Willa!”LukedropshisshovelandbarrelstowardmetheminuteIstepoutofmyJeep,worksoeasilyforgotten.
HelauncheshimselfatmelikeI’vebeengoneforyears,andIsmileintohishairasIlifthimup.“Hey,littlenutbar.”
“Canwegopracticeonmyguitar?”He’spracticallyvibratingwhenIsethimbackdown.
Cadehuffsoutalaughashewedgeshisshovelintothegroundwithonebootedfoot.“Ithinkyouwonthebirthdaypartywiththatgift,Red.”
“Ilovethedronetoo,Dad.”Sensitivekidheis,Lukespinsquickly,clearlytryingtoreassurehisdad,allworriedabouthurtingagrown-assman’sfeelings.
“Iknow,pal.Buttheguitarisamazing,right?”
Luke’sgrinissowideitlookslikeithurts.“Totallyamazing!”hegushes.
“Whydon’tyougopracticeandI’llhelpyourdadwiththisforawhile.Showmewhatyou’vefiguredoutwhenIgetinthere,yeah?”
Glancingdownathim,Iseehislittlefingersmovinglikethey’rejustitchingtoplay.Kidhasthebug,notwowaysaboutit.I’mgoingtohavetotellmydadabouthimsoon—he’llgetarealkickoutofthisforsure.
“Definitely.”Hegrinslikeatotalloon,andthenhe’soff.Heliterallyskipsintothehouseandwatchinghimgowithsomuchjoymakesmyheartsqueeze.Buthestopsandturnswhenhehitsthefrontporch.“Hey,Willa,you’renotleavingsoon,areyou?”
IfeelCade’sgazeslidingovermybody.Hismotionhasstoppedentirely.Itfeelsliketheentireworldiswatching.Boththesesweetboysstaringatme,puttingmerightonthegoddamnspot.
Mymouthopensandcloses,andIpeekoveratCadeforsomesortofsignthatI’mnotoutoflineinsayingsomethinghere.Hisglovedhandsareslungoverthetopofhisshovel,histannedstubbledfaceglisteningwithalightsheenofsweat.
He’sfuckinglickable.
Toogoodtoleavebehind,that’sforsure.
“No,pal.Idon’tthinkIam.Notpermanently,anyway.IthinkI’dmissyoutoomuch.Isthatokaywithyou?”
Hisroundfacesoftens,hairfloppingontohisforeheadashenods.“Yeah.I’dmissyoutoo.AndIthinkmydadwouldbereallylonelywithoutyou.”Withasweetlittlesmile,heturnsandscampersthroughthefrontdoor,likehedidn’tjustleaveCadeandmeoutherewithwateryeyes.
“Didyoutalktohim?”
Caderubsaglovedhandoverhiseye.“No.FiguredIshouldtalktoyoufirst.”Hesniffs.
“Youokay?DidIoverstep?”
“Notatall.”Heclearshisthroat.“Justgotdustinmyeye.”Herubsagain.
“Cool,cool.Metoo,”Isay,givinghimanexaggeratedwaterywink.
“Howwasbrunch?”Hedigsagain,armsflexingashedoes.
Ineverknewamandiggingoutaspotforasidewalkcouldbeanaphrodisiac,buthereIam,admiringthewayhisshouldersbulgeagainsthisT-shirtandthetendonsinhisforearmsrippleinthesunlight.
“Good.”
“Youactuallygoingtostay?”heasks,withoutlookingupatme.Instead,hetossesashovelfullofdirtbehindhimselfandkeepsworking.
“Youreallygoingtokeepworkingwhilewehavethisconversation?”
“Yup,”ishisgruffresponse.
“YesterdayyouwereallMeCade.Youwoman.Stayhere.Eatpussyeveryday,”IsayinwhatisasadattemptatsomesortofTarzanimpersonation.
Hedoesn’tlaughthough.“Well,todayI’mmoreworriedyou’llbethinkingstraightandwillrealizeyoubelonginthecitydoingwhateverfancyshityoudo.”
“Manageabarwhileslingingbeer?Myglamorouslifestyletrulyknowsnobounds.”
“Listen”—heshovestheshovelintothegroundlikehewantstohurtitbeforefinallylookingupatme—“ifallthisouthereisn’tenoughforyou,I’dratheryoujustgonow.Iwasn’tjokingaboutwhatIsaidyesterday.Anditfeelslikealot.I…”Heglancesaway,wipingthebackofhisarmoverhisforehead.“Idon’twanttolivemylifescaredanymore.ButIalsodon’twanttobemadeafoolofagain.”
Thatpainfultwistingsensationisbackinmychest.Theheavyrockinmygut.Thismandeservessomuchbetterthanwhathe’sreceived.
“Cade,lookatme.”
Hisjawclenches,buthedoesn’tlookmyway,optingtostaredownatthegroundhe’sdugout.
Sothat’swhereIgo.Isitdowninthedirtrightinfrontofhim.
“Thefuckyoudoing,woman?”hegrumblesasItipmychinupinhisdirection.
“Tryingtogetyourattention.”Istretchmylegsoutinfrontofmeandleanbackonmypalms,feelingthecooldampdirtbeneaththem.Itsmellslikeearth,andflint,andpineneedles.
Itsmellslikehome.
“You’vehadmyattentionsince—”
Irollmyeyesandwaveahandathim.“Yeah,yeah.SinceIdroppedmypantiesatyourfeet.”
“No.SinceIfirstheardyoulaugh.”
Thatshutsmeup.
“Inthecoffeeshop.Iwasstandingbehindyouandcouldn’tstopthinkingabouthowincredibleyourlaughwas.Allfuckinglightandwarm.Itmademewanttolaughtoo.”
MytonguedartsoutovermylipsasIregardhim.
“I’m—fuck—I’mscared,Willa.I’mscaredyou’retooyoung.Thatyouhaven’tlivedenough.Thatyou’retoofaroutofmyleague.I’mscaredIwon’tbeenoughforyouandyou’llwalkaway.AndI’llbestuckhereintheshamblesagain.AndsowillLukethistime.”Hisfreehandswipesathishat,shiftingitonhisheadashelooksawayagain.
“I’mscaredtoo,”Iblurtout.“Butnottooscaredtotry.”
Hestaresatme.Hard.It’sunnervingreally.Andthenheraspsout,“Yeah,meneither.”
Ibeamathimandseeaghostofasmileonhislipsbeforehestartsshovelingagain.
“I’llcallmybrotherandquit.Thatwillbefun.”
“Ifyouneedtogobacktothecityforawhile,that’sfine.Youmightwanttotakeyourtime.”
“Andwhat?Pretendwehaven’tbeenlivingtogetherforalmosttwomonthsalready?ShouldIgoliveupatthemainhousewithHarvey?”
Hedoesn’tevenflinch.“Thatmightgiveusachancetodateproperly.Maybealittledistanceisgoodforyoutobesureabouteverything.Orwecouldcommute.”
Irollmyeyesandcrossmyfeet.“Shutup,Cade.Stopbeingsomature.”
“Someonehastobe,”hegrumbles,tossinganothershovelfulofdirtoverhisshoulderandlookingmightysexyashedoesit.
“Hey,youknowwhatthisyardneeds?”IpressmyindexfingertomylipsasImakeashowofexaminingtheproperty.
“What?”
“Arealgoodblowjob.”
Cadebarksoutaraspylaughandshakeshishead.“Lordhelpme,whathaveIdone?”
Wespendtherestofthedaylikethat.Himdigging.Memakingfunofhim.AndeventuallyLukecomesoutandplaysusasonghemadeup.
Foronce,Ifeelsettled.Likeeverythinginmylifeiswhereit’smeanttobe.30Cade
Willa:WhydidyouleavemeaPost-itnotesaying,Nopantiestoday?
Willa:Thatjustruinsthesurprise.
Cade:BecauseIwanteasyaccess.
Willa:CadeEaton.Thisisafamilyevent.
Cade:Hasn’tstoppedyoubefore.
Willa:Thatwasaone-timething.
Cade:No,itwasn’t.Itwasaprecedent-setter.
Willa:Lukeisgoingtobeabletoreadthesesoon.
Cade:DidyouchangethesubjectbecauseyouknowI’mright?
***
AsmilebreaksoutonmyfacewhenJasperhopsuponahorse.“Thanksforcomingout.”
Hewinksatme.“YouknowIwouldn’tmissit.Ilovesittingonthesidelinesasnottoviolatemycontract.”
Ishakemyhead.“AndwejustlovehavingtheoneandonlyJasperGervaisheretograceuswithhispresencewhileweworkthecattle.”
Theexpressionhegivesmeisdry—sarcasticsomehow.NooneismoreuncomfortablewithhisfamethanJasper.
“Lightenup.Youknowthisisoneofmyfavoriteeventsoftheyear.Reallyisnicetohaveyououthere.”
“Didyoujusttellmetolightenup?”Shockbleedsintohistone.
That’swhenachorusofhootsbreaksoutalongthefencelinebehindme.Everyoneishere.Willa,Summer,Rhett,andotherfriendsfromtown.
IturnandcatchtwomatchingflashesofblondehairwaltzingdowntothepenandmydadwithanexpressionthatlookslikehejustsawElvisPresleycomebackfromthedead.
“Violet!You’regonnagivemeaheartattack,girl!”Mydadwrapshisarmsaroundourlittlesister,andshe’ssopetitethatshealmostdisappearsinhisembrace.
“Surprise,Dad!”
Heholdsherbackandtakesherin.“Aren’tyouasightforsoreeyes.”Heturnstoourcousin.“Youtoo,Sloane.Whoknewthelittlebarnbratswouldgrowuptobesuchbeautifulyoungwomen?”
God,Harveyisfuckinggushing.Sloanecomesaroundnowandthensincebecomingsomesortofprimaballerina,butViolethasbecomesomethingofasensationherself—aworldfamousracehorsejockeyoutonthecoast,withawholedamnfamily—soshe’snotbacknearlyasoften.
Ican’thelpbutgrinagain.Seemtodoalotofthatlately.
IrideoverwithJasperfollowing.
“Babysister,”Isay.
“Bigbrother.”Shebeamsupatme.“Almostdidn’trecognizeyouwiththatsmileonyourface.”
Ihopoffandfrownatherdramaticallybeforefoldingherintoahug.“Where’sCole?”
“Oh,yourmancrush?”shequipsbecauseyeah,Iliketheguy.Shemarriedagoodone.“He’swranglingthetinyhumanssoIcanwranglesomecows.”
“Yeah?”Ipullbackandeyeherskeptically.
“Hellyeah.”Sheclapsherhandsandbrushesthemtogetherlikeshe’sreadyforthechallenge.“BetIcanstillthrowaropebetterthanyou.”
IjustshakemyheadbeforeturningtoSloane.She’sstandingbesideVioletbuthasherfullattentiononJasper,likeshehassinceshewasakid.
Andhe’sfuckingclueless,likehehasbeensincehewasakid.
Hesaysthey’re“goodfriends.”Andmaybetheyare,maybeI’mreadingintosomethingthatisn’tthere.
AllIknowisthatinthoseearlydays,everyonelookedatJasperlikehemightcomeapartatanymoment.ButSloanelookedathimlikehehungthemoon.
“Goodtoseeyou,Sloane.It’sbeenawhile.Keepingbusywiththedancing?”Thatprobablysoundsdumb,butIdon’tknowhowtoputit.Notabigballetguymyself.
Shesmilesatmeandbeforeshecantalk,Violetgrabsherlefthandandholdsitup.“She’skeepingbusywithweddingplanning!”
“Wedding?Well,shit,Sloane.You’vebeenholdingoutonus.”Ireachouttogiveherahug.“Congratulations.When’sthebigday?”
“November,Ithink,”ishersoftreply,eyesdartingbacktowhereJasperisstillseatedonhismount.
“ThisNovember?”heasksfrombesideme.
“Yeah.”Shetucksapieceofhairbehindherear,nowkeepinghereyesfocusedonme.
“Whoistheguy?I’veneverevenmetthisperson.”Icrossmyarmsovermychest,feelingBlueberrynudgemefrombehind.
“Jesus,youguys.”Violetwavesahandinfrontofus.“Overbearingmuch?AndyouallwonderwhyImovedawaysoIcoulddate?She’sinhertwenties.Shedoesn’tneedy’alltoplaybodyguard.”
JasperandIscoffinunison.
Violet’snosetipsupandsheignoresus.“I’mhavingdinnerwiththemwhenSloanetakesmebacktotheairportonMonday,soI’llbetheonetopassjudgmentonhim.”
It’sSloanewholaughsnow,smilingandshakingherheadalittle.“Youmeantheonetomeethim?Becauseyou’retheonewhoisn’toverbearing?Right?”
Rhettbuttsinnow.“Ooh.Calledout.Lookslikeyouaren’tsodifferentfromusafterall,Fancypants.”
“Yeah,yeah,”Violetwavesusalloffwithagrin.“Justshoweveryonethatmassiverockandstoppickingonme.It’smakingCadesmileandthat’sjustweird.”
Sloanelipstipupbuthercheekswobble.It’snotthewayI’dbesmilingifIweresettomarryWillainafewshortmonths.Sheholdsherhandoutdemurely,andsureenough,thestoneismassive.Herfamilywouldn’thaveitanyotherway.
Achorusofcongratulationsringoutaroundus.Everyoneoohsandahhsoverthering,andJasperhopsoffhishorse,givingthegirlsasoftsmile.HerufflesViolet’shairbeforecongratulatingSloane.
Shereachesforhim,andhewrapsherinabearhug,restingthepalmofhishandagainstthebackofherheadasshepressesherforeheadtohischest.
ItremindsmeofrunningmyfingersthroughWilla’shair,andIinstantlysearchforherinthegroupofpeople.Ifindhereasily,standingtheresmiling,wearingskin-tightjeansandholdingourboy’shand.
Andfuck,itlooksgood.
“Vi,comemeetWilla.”Idon’tspecifyherrole.Idon’tcallhermynannybecausethat’snottrue.AndIdon’tcallhermyfriendbecausethat’ssureasshitnottrueeither.
“Ooh!Yes!Willa.”Violetturns,andagenuinesmilebreaksoutacrossherfacewhenhereyeslandonWillaandLuke.“Ihaveheardsomuchaboutyou,”iswhatshesaysasshestridestowardthem.
“Likewise.”Willagrinsbackather,andIjustknowthesetwowillgetalongfamously.
Idon’tmissthelittlewinkVioletgivesmeoverWilla’sshoulderastheyhug.
Harveyandhisbigfuckingmouth.TellingeveryoneandtheirdogaboutWillaandmeeversincethatdayIcarriedWillaoffovermyshoulder.Likeifhetellsenoughpeoplehe’llmakeithappenorsomething.
“Okay,wegood?”Ishout,wantingtogetthisshowontheroadsoIcankickbackwithacoldbrew.Probablylaymygirloutandhaveamidnightsnacktoo,findoutifshefollowedmyinstructions.
Sheprobablydidn’t.AndIlovethatabouther.
Shit,Iloveher,period.
Youshouldtellher.Summer’swordspopupinmyheadoften.IshouldtellherbutI’mfuckingterrified,soIpushitasideandgetmyassingear.It’saproblemforanotherday.
Withinthehour,everyoneissaddledupandwegettowork.Vaccinating.Tagging.Shit-talking.
Andwouldn’tyouknowit,mybabysisterstillthrowsabetterropethanme.
***
IfeelthesnapwhenIgetslammedintothemetalpanel.“Fuck!”
“Cade?”JasperjumpsoffhismountatthesametimeasRhett,andtheyracetowardme.
“Fucking,fuck!”Iclutchmyhandtomychestandsearingpainshootsthroughit.
Bothguysareclimbingthefencetogettome.
“Jasper,don’tyoudarecomeinthisfuckingshoot,youcrazymotherfucker.Ifyougethurt,thisentirecountrywillhateme.”It’sanOlympicyear.Ican’tinjureournation’snumberonegoalie.
“Toolate,asshole,”hemurmursbeforehoppingdownwhileRhettadjuststhegatestokeepthecowsawayfromme.
Iholdmyhandprotectively,hopingifIjustbreathethroughmynoseforaminutethepainwillpass.
I’vebeenatthislongenoughtoknowbetter.
“Isitbroken?”RhetthollerswhileJaspergivesmeanunimpressedglarethatsaysIneedtoshowhimmyhand.
“You’reafuckinghockeyplayer.Notadoctor.”
“I’msmartenoughtomakeaneducatedguess.”Jaspergivesmehisbestbitchylook.Andhonestly,it’sprettygood.
Iholdmyrighthandoutwithanirritatedsigh,pinkyandringfingeralreadylookingtotallyswollen.
“Oh,yeah.It’sbroken,”Rhettannounces.
“Andyou’rearetiredbullrider.Whatthefuckdoyouknow?”
Heshrugs.“Well,Iknowwhatbrokenboneslooklike.Andyou’vegotthem.”
“Iagree,”Jaspertossesin,foldingthebrimofhiscapoverhisforehead.
“Thisislikeastupidjoke.Ahockeyplayerandabullriderwalkintoadoctor’soffice…”
“Cade.YouneedtogetX-rays.”
Islumpagainstthemetalfencingbehindmeandgroan.“Itwasthelastbatch.Ijustwantedabeerandahottub.”
“Noproblem,bro.”Rhettslapsmeontheshoulderhardenoughthatmyfingersache.“I’llgrabyouonefortheroad.Also,Summertoldmetonevergointhathottubagain.Thefuckyoubeendoinginthere?”
“Getfucked,Rhett.Iusechlorinetabsinthereandtestthewaterregularly.”
“Isthewaterpregnantyet?”hetossesoverhisshoulderwhilejoggingaway
“Dick,”Imutter,gingerlyholdingmyhandandfeelingmyarmsshake.
“WhatcanIdo?”Jasperasksgently.
“GetWilla,”iswhatIsay.Becauseshe’stheonlypersonIwantrightnow
Hestaresatmewithhissoulfuleyesandnods.He’swalkingbackwithherwithinminutes.
Shelookspale,hereyespinched,butshedoesn’tfussoverme.That’snotherpersonality,andIthinkIloveherevenmoreforit.
“Fancymeetingyouhere,Eaton.Youtrytobeaheroandbreaksomefingers?”She’sdoingthethingwhereshedefusesheranxietywithhumor,butIlether.Hersarcasmisagooddistractionrightnow.
Rhettisbackandhandsmeanalreadycrackedbeer.“No.Hewastryingtobeaheroandgetthatcalf’slegoutbyhimself.”
IholdthebeerupinWilla’sdirection.“Cheers,baby.Yougettoplaynursetoday.”
“Oh,yeah?”Shedrawscloser,runningahandovermyshoulderanddownmyarmtoholdmyhand.Assheassessesthequicklydarkeningdigits,sheadds,“IthinkIdressedupasthatforHalloweenoneyear.”
Jesus.Whatdidn’tthiswomandressasforHalloween?
Igroanandletmyeyesfluttershuttothesoundofmybrothershavingagoodchucklearoundme.ThelastthingIneedisarock-harddicktogoalongwithmybrokenfingers.
“Okay,champ.Offtothehospitalwego.”Willaslidesherhandaroundmyback.“Igothimfromhere,boys.ThegirlshaveLuke.Ithinkhe’sinheavenwithtwoblondespayingattentiontohim.”
“Talkaboutmommyissues,”Rhettjokestoachorusofgroans.Leaveittohimtosaysomethinginappropriaterightnow.
“Fuckingclown,”ImutterasIabsentlypressakisstoWilla’shead.
It’seerilyquietforamomentbecauseIrealizeIjustkissedmynannyinfrontofthesetwojokersanddidn’teventhinktwiceaboutit.
Willaclearsherthroattobreakthesilence.
“We’llfinishthecowsandthencometothehospital,”Jaspersays.
Rhettscoffs.“It’sfuckingbrokenfingers.Ithinkhe’llmakeitthrough.”
IlaughbecausethissucksandRhettiscertifiable.“Thanks,guys.”
Thenwe’reoff,silentlywalkingbacktothebarnwhereIparked.WhenImeetWilla’seyes,they’rewideandconcerned,soIwhisper,“Don’tworry,baby.I’mgoingtobefine.”
Shesnifflesandrollshershouldersback.“Iknow,”shereplies,alwaysputtingonthattoughfacade.
“Wereyouworried?”IaskasIsettleintothepassengerseatofmyparkedtruck.
“Ofcourse,”shereplies,voiceevenasshehopsintothedriver’sseat.“Idon’tknowhowwellyou’llbeabletofingerbangmewithyourlefthand.”
Ichuckleandsmiletherestofthewaytothehospitalbecausethereisonlyonepersonintheworldwhocouldmakemelaughinamomentlikethis.
IthitsmehardaswedriveinacompanionablesilencethatWillaisthatperson.
Myperson.
***
ThehospitalinChestnutSpringsissmall.Staffingisaconstantissue.Waittimesarebrutal.
Iguesshavingtowaitseveralhoursshouldn’tsurpriseme.First,inthegeneralwaitingarea.Second,X-rays.Last,backtoaprivateroomwherewewaitsomemore.
Willaholdsmygoodhandtheentiretime,thumbstrokingatthetop,andsomehowthatnumbsthepainofmyfingers.
Willa’seyesbugoutwhenadoctorwalksintoourwaitingroomwithherfaceturneddowntotheclipboardinherhands.“Winter?”
Thedoctor’sheadsnapsup,icyeyeswideningonlymomentarily.
“LikeSummer’ssister,Winter?”IblurtbecauseI’veheardstoriesaboutthiswoman.Summer’sestrangedsister.Likemajorfamilydramalevelsofestranged.Rhetttoldmeabouttheblowuponedayoverafewbeers,anditsoundslikeit’soutofadaytimesoapoperatome.
Fuckingrichcitypeople,man.
“Yes.”Herlipsthin,andherheelsclickagainstthefloorassheshutsthedoor.“Theoneandonly.I’msureyou’veheardonlygoodthings,”shesaysdrylybeforeadding,“butIpromiseyourfingersareinexcellenthands,Mr.Eaton.”
Hooboy.Anotherwomanwhocouldusesomeonetotellhersomegoodthingsaboutherself.Iwatchhertensemovements,thewayherlipspursewhensheglancesatWilla.ShelookslikeSummer,butalsonotatall.
WinterandSummer…whoeverdidthattothemdeservesakicktotheballs.
“Winter,howareyou?Whatareyoudoinghere?”Willaasks,hervoicesoftandwaryasthepetitewomanpullsonapairoflatexgloves.
Winterignoresherquestions.It’sliketheydon’tevenregisteronherface.
“Let’sseeyourfingers,Mr.Eaton.”SheholdsherhandouttomeandIputitinhers,wincingasIdo.HerdaintyfingersprodsogentlythatIbarelyevenfeelthem.“Bothfingersarebroken.Thebreaksarefairlyclean,butfromwhatIcanseeontheX-rays,therearesomebonechipsfloatinginthere.Wecoulddoasurgicalrepair—”
“Idon’t—”
Shecutsmerightbackoffwithapointedlook.“I’mstillspeaking.”GoodGod,thiswomaniskindofterrifying.Iclampmymouthshutandwidenmyeyestotellhershecangoon.
“LikeIwassaying,wecouldoperateandtidythingsupimmediately,butmyinclinationistoavoidsurgerywhenpossible.Sotheotheroptionistosplinttheseandletthemheal.Hopethosechipssortofdissolveontheirownandseehowyoufeel.Ifthey’restillcausingissues,wecanoperatedowntheroad.It’satrade-off.Healfasternowinthehopesyoudon’tneedsurgerylater,orstillhaveissuesandbelaidouttwice.It’suptoyou.”
She’sverydirect,verymatter-of-fact.Somepeoplemightthinkherbedsidemannerleavessomethingtobedesired,butIkindoflikeher.ShespeakstomelikeI’mcapableofmakingadecision,andsheisn’tpushingtreatmentdownmythroat.
HervoiceisgentlerthanIexpectedbasedonthestoriesIheard,andhereyeslessvicious.They’remore…sad.Rimmedwithdarkcircles.
“Therearephysiotherapyoptionsandalternativehealthoptionsthatcanhelpwithrehabilitationfromaninjurylikethis,”shecarrieson,scribblingonthechartbeforeher.
“Alternativehealthoptions?”Iask,scrunchingmyface.
Shepullsherglovesoffwithasnaptowritesomethingdownonherchart.“I’drecommendacupuncturetostart,”shereplieswithoutevenlookingupatme
“Okay.”IglanceatWilla,whoisstillstaringatherbestfriend’ssister,almostlikeshe’sseenaghost.“Let’sgothemoreconservativeroute.”
“Great.”Shesmilesbutit’spained.“I’llgetsomeoneinheretofixyouupandthenyoucanbeonyourway.I’msureyou’retiredofwaiting.”Shestandsandmarchesoutthedoor,thepictureofunaffectedprofessionalism.
ButWillatakesoffafterher.31Willa
Summer:IsCadeokay?
Willa:Yes.Acoupleofbrokenfingers.Willneed6-8weekstoheal.Sohe’llbeanextragrumpybitchfortheforeseeablefuture.
Summer:Couldhavebeenworse.Lukeisasleep.Allgoodhere.
Willa:Hey,Sum,hasWinterrespondedtoanyofyourmessages?
Summer:No.Ikeepsendingthemanyway.Iknowshe’sreadingthem.Why?
Willa:Becauseshe’sourdoctortonight.
Summer:Howdoesshelook?
Willa:Sad.
***
“Winter,”Iwhisper-shoutasIfollowherdownthebeigehallwaywitharandomgreenstripedownthemiddleofthewall.Whythehelldohospitalsdothat?Itdoesn’tmakethemanymoreappealing.“Winter,stop.”
Summerhasbeentryingtocontactherforayearbutgetsshutdownateveryturn.I’mnotleavingthishospitalbeforeItalktoher.
Sheroundsthecornerbutstopsinalittlealcovethatplayshosttoacoupleofvendingmachines.
“What?”shesnapsprimly,nosetippedupasshestaresdownathernails.
I’veknownWintersincewewereteenagers.WhenSummerwasinthehospital,wespentsometimetogether.Winterisn’tasbadaseveryonehasmadeherouttobe.She’sbeendealtashithand.
Onethatmoneyandeducationcan’tundo.WhatWinterismissingislove.
Istareather,breathingmoreheavilythanthedistanceIjustcoveredwarrants.“Ijustwanttogiveyouahug,”Isay.
Herlonglashesblinkslowly,andshe’sforcedtolookupatmebecausethesesistersstoppedgrowingatliketwelveorsomething.“Ahug?”
Irealizenowhowroughshelooks.Toothin.Tootired.
“Yes,girl.”Iopenmyarms.“Getyourscrawnyassoverhere.”
Sheglancesawayforamoment,likethebagofhickorysticksinthevendingmachineissuperinteresting.Andthenhershouldersdroopandwithoutmeetingmyeyes,shestepsintomyarms.
Shesighswhenshedoes,andsodoI.It’samazinghowtheadultsaroundyoucanfuckeverythingup.That’swhathappenedwithSummerandWinter—andIwastheretowatchitallgodown.
Iwasalsothereinthehospital,sittingbySummer’sbedside,whenWinterwouldsneakoutofthehousetobewithhertoo.ButonlyifSummerwassleeping.It’sanunspokensecretWinterandIhavekeptforyears.
EveryonethinksWinterdidn’tcare,butIknowbetter.Shelovesherlittlesister,eventhoughhermomhasmadeherfeellikesheshouldn’t.Evenifshedoesn’tknowhowtoshowit.
Theirdad,KipHamilton,isn’tperfect,buthe’salsonotevilincarnatelikeWinter’smom.
IthinkofLuke,andhowdifferenthislifemighthavebeenifCadeandTaliahadstayedtogetherandbeenmiserable.
Hecouldhavebeenthesegirls.
“Howislife?”Iwhisper,andshedoesn’tletmego.Infact,herfingerscurlintomyjeanjacketandgripmelikeI’mheronlylifelineonasinkingship.
“Everythingisfine.”Hervoicecracks,andIfeelherchesthitchwhenshesighs.“Fuck.That’snottrue.Everythingisamess.AndIlostthebaby.”
MystomachhollowsoutandIalmostfeelnauseous.AyearagowheneverythingblewupbetweenherandSummer,shewaspregnant.
She’sstillclutchingatmeasshespeaks.“Andononehand,I’mdevastatedbecauseItriedforsolong.Andontheother,I’mrelievedbecauseIdon’thavetobetiedtohimfortherestofmylife.HowawfulamI?”
Herlaughiswateryandmyeyeswiden.Winterhasneverbeenemotional.She’salwaysicyandreserved—especiallyinadulthood.Ihardlyrecognizethewomanclingingtome.
“Youarenotawful.”AndImeanit.Noonedeservestoliveinaworldwheretheonlyfamilytheyhaveareanunfaithfulhusbandandamanipulativemom.“Youdeservesomuchbetter,Winter.”
Shehums,likesheisn’tsosure.
“Areyoustilltogether?”Iask,referringtotheliving,breathingtrashshemarried.
“Sortof,”isherstrainedreply.
“Hedoesn’tdeserveyou.”
Shesqueezesmeharder.God,thiswomanneedstobehuggedsobadly.“Iknow,”ishersoftreply.“I’mjustgladSummerhasyou.Godknowstherestofusdidn’tdoheranygood.”
Shockedbywhatshejustsaid,Ipullawayandstarebackatthewomanbeforeme.She’salwayscoolandremoved,impossibletogetareadon.“WhatareyoudoinghereinChestnutSprings?”
Shesniffsandrubshernosebeforesteppingoutofmyhold.“Itookarotationouthere.Seemedlikeagoodwaytospendtimeawayfromhimafewdaysatatime.”
Him.Herdouchebaghusband.Theonesheneedstoleaveandshouldhaveleftayearago.
Ican’thelpbutwonderiftheproximitytoherestrangedsisterplayedanyroleinchoosingthishospital.
“Summerwouldlovetotalktoyou.Hell,seeyou.Thatdoorisalwaysopen,youknowthat,right?”
Hereyesroll,andit’slikeIcanseehershieldsshootbackupbeforemyeyes.“Yes.Theconstanttextmessagesshesendshavedriventhatpointhome.”
“So?Takeheruponit.Shelovesyou,whetherornotyouwanttobelieveit.”Winterscoffs,backtolookingathernails.“Yougotsomethingstuckunderthere?”Iaskbecauseshe’sbeingrude.“Myeyesareuphere,Winter.”
“HowamIsupposedtodothat?Justwaltzbackintomysister’slifeaftereverythingthat’sgonedownbetweenus?AfterthewayI’vetreatedher?Shemusthateme.”
“Yes,Winter.That’sexactlywhatyoudo.Becauseshedoesnothateyou.”
“I’m…Idon’tknowhowtomendthis.I’membarrassed,”sheconfessesquietly.
“Don’tbe.Weallneedafreshstartnowandagain.Comehangoutsometime.Maybeyou’llevenhavefun.”
Shesnortsatmysuggestion.“Withthetwoofyou?WhywouldIeventry?YouandSummeraresotight,Ibetyougetyourperiodsatthesametime.Totallysynchedup.Irememberyoutwobingingjunkfoodeverymonthandcomplainingaboutyourcramps.”
IlaughbutstopasIprocessthewords.Pre-periodI’malwaysextra-bitchy.I’macoupleofdaysintomyplacebopillsforthemonthbutnothinghasstarted.
Theotherday,Summercomplainedabouthercramps,andIjusttitteredlikeasex-drunkidiot.
Theblooddrainsfrommyface.Itfeelslikeitpoolsinmyfeetandgrowsheavythereasquestionscirculateinmymind,questionsIhaven’tevenletmyselfthinkabout.
“Areyouokay?”ConcernlacesWinter’stone.
“I…”Mypalmscomeuptorestonmycheeks.HowdidImissthis?“Fuck.What’sthedatetoday?”
Winter’seyesscanme,intelligenceflashingineveryglance.“Ohshit,”shesays,rearingbackalittle.“Didyouletthatcowboyknockyouup,WillaGrant?”
***
It’sdarkbythetimewehittheroadagain,whichsuitsmefinebecauseCadecan’tseemyfaceaswellunderthecoverofnight.
He’stired.I’mtired.
I’minshock.
WintertrackedmedownapregnancytestwhileCadehadhisfingerscasted.ItcamebackpositiveforatinyEaton,andIjustsatinthewaitingroomstaringintospace.
Winterstayedforawhile.Shewasn’toverlycomforting,butitwasnicetohavesomeonewithmeallthesame.Shewasquietandwithdrawnassoonasthetestcamebackpositive.
Itwasawkward.
“Youokay?”Cadeasks,joltingmefrommythoughts.
“Me?Yeah?Fine.Why?”Iturnslightlytopeekathisfurrowedbrowandbeautifullycraftedface.I’mnotevenmad,I’mnotevensad.I’moddlyatpeacewiththewholething.
ButIamworriedabouthim
“Becauseyou’regrippingthesteeringwheellikeyou’retryingtostrangleit.”
“Ah,”Isaywithanod.
“DidWintersaysomethingtoyou?Dowelikeher?Dowehateher?AmIsupposedtobemadatsomethingwithyou?BecauseIwillbeifyouare.Justtellmehowtobesupportive.”
Fuck,he’ssweet.Hisvoiceisallroughedgesanddeepgrumbles,butIknowhemeanswhathesays.
Ijustworrythatafterbeingtrappedbyonepregnancy,he’llfeelthesamealloveragain.He’llfeelconfined.He’llbestuckprovidingforawomanandababythatheneverreallygottobesurehewanted.
Again.
“No,”Ireplysoftly,“Winterwasgreat.I’mhopingherandSummercanmendthisthingbetweenthem.Ithinktheybothneedit.”
“I’mgoingtobefine,youknow.”Hereachesacrossthecenterconsoleformyhand,twininghisfingerswithmine,forcingasoftsighfrommylips.Ialwaysfeelbetterwithhishandsonmybody.
Moregrounded.Moremyself.Moreconfident.
I’mmoremyselfwithCadeEatonthanI’veeverbeen,andnowI’llhavetowonderifhefeelsthesame,orifhe’sgoingthroughthemotionsoutofasenseofduty.Again.Ourrelationshipisinitsinfancy,andasmuchasIrealizeIdowantafamily—withCadeeven—Ican’tsaythatIsawitplayingoutquitelikethis.
“Iknow,”Isay,butIdon’tknowifIbelieveit.AndIdon’tknowifthingswilleverbethesamebetweenusonceIsaythisoutloudtohim.Howcouldhepossiblybefinewiththishappeningtohimagain?
IknowIneedtotellhim.Icanfeelthewordsbuildinginmythroatthecloserwegettotheranch.Themorehestrokesmyhand,themoreflusteredIget,andtheguiltierIfeelforsittingherewordlesslyforthepastfifteenminutes
Wedriveinsilence,butIsenseheknowssomethingisupbecauseI’mnotmynormal,chattyself.Icanseehimtossingnervousglancesmyway,likehe’stotallyoutofhisdepth.
ButsoamI.
Whenwepullupatthehouse,Iputthetruckinparkbutstaystaringoutthefrontwindshield.
“Look,Red,I’mtryingnottobeadomineeringasshole,butIwanttoknowwhat’sgoingoninthatprettyheadofyours.Icanseethegearsturning.Icantellbythewayyou’resitting.Bythetensioninyourhand.UsuallyIcan’tgetyoutoshutupunlessIstuffyourpantiesinyourmouth.Sothis?”Hegesturesbetweenus.“Thisisweird.”
Arawlaughlurchesoutofme,andtearsspringupinmyeyes.Ipullmyhandfromhistorubatmyface,tobringsomecirculationbacktomyhead,becauseIfeellikeI’mlivinginsomealternatedreamworld.Likethiscan’treallybehappeningtome.
ItfeelslikethebestwaytodothisistoripofftheBand-aid.Fast,painless—getitoverwithbecauseIcan’thandletheselevelsofanxietyinmybody
“I’mpregnant.”
Thosetwowordscomeoutsureandsteady.SomuchsurerandsteadierthanIfeelrightnow.
Cadestaresatmeblankly.Hismouthpopsopenandclosesagain,andthenheshakeshishead,likeitmightmakerealityseepbackin.
“Surprise?”Iaddawkwardly.“I’msorry,”Iaddevenmoreawkwardly.
Myheadisspinning,andI’mfeelinglikeIcoulduseamomentalonetogetmybearings—toprocessthis—becausesayingitoutloudtohimfeelssomuchmorereal.“Ijustfoundoutatthehospitalandhavebeentryingtofindthecouragetotellyou.I’msorry.”
“Whyareyousorry?”
“Ididn’tdothisonpurpose.”Heblinksatme.“IswearI’monbirthcontrol,butapparentlybarfingitupfortwodaysstraightisn’tideal.”
Hishandslidesoverhisstubbledchinashesucksinabreath.Ohgod,he’snotsayinganything,andmyanxietyisgrowingexponentially,doubling.
Likecells.
Fuck.Whatiswrongwithmyhead?
“You’rejustsoyoung.”NotthewordsIwantedtohearrightnow.
“GoodGod.YouactlikeI’macluelessteenager!I’mtwenty-five!StoptreatingmelikeI’machild.Thatexcuseisinsulting.”Ihuffoutanagitatedbreath.“IthinkIneedanightalonetojustprocessthis.”
Hescowlsatmeandstillsaysnothing,soIjustkeeptalking.“Yeah.Yeah.That’swhatIneed.Andyoudotoo.”
I’mstartingtospinout.Istaredownandriflethroughmyoversizedpursetofindhispainkillers,feelingafull-onfreak-outlikeI’veneverhadcomingon.MyhandwrapsaroundsomethinglongandslenderandIpullout…acarrot?
Myeyeswaterandpanicrises,andIjusttossitinthebackseat.
“Wasthatacarrot?”isthefirstthingCadesaystomesinceItoldhimIwaspregnantwithhisbaby.
Anexcellentsign,tobesure.
IfinallyfindthebottleofpainkillersWinterdroppedintheroombeforeleavingwithagentlegoodbye.“Here.”
“Whyisthereacarrotinyourpurse?”
Jesus.I’vereallybrokenhisbrain.Whocanblamehimthough?
“I’mgoingtosleepatthemainhousetonight.”
Heblinks.“Likehellyouare.”
Ijumpoutofhistruck,takingthefewstridesovertomyJeepbeforeclamberingintothedriver’ssideseat.AmIhandlingthiswell?Probablynot.ButI’mhavingamoment,andallhe’sdoingisscowlingatmeandaskingmeaboutthecarrot.
CadegrabsthedoorofmyJeepbeforeIcancloseitandglaresatme.
“I’msorry,”Isay.“I’mveryawarethatI’mnothandlingthiswell.”
“Weneedtotalk,”isallhesays,anditsoundssoforebodingthatdreadsettlesinmystomach.
“Ineedanightalone.Togathermythoughts.Sodoyou.”
Iexpecthimtoargue,andthere’salittlepartofmethatwantshimtothrowmeoverhisshoulderthewayhedidthatdayLukeandIhidfromhim.Heslappedmyassandlaughed,butthistimehegivesmeatersenod,andmystomachsinks.
HeslamsthedoorandpatsthehoodasIwoodenlytwistthekeysintheignition.Isuckinadeepbreathbeforeshiftingintodrive.Ipullaway,feelingshakyandtearyandtotallylameforleavinghimthereafterdroppingthatbomb.
IseehisoutlinestandinginthedrivewayevenasIroundthecorner.
AndmylastthoughtbeforeIlosesightofhimisthathedeservesbetterthanbeingbackhereagain.Becausehe’ssodamnhonorablethathe’llstickhimselfwithmeandthisbaby.
Evenifit’snotreallywhathewants.32Cade
Cade:Willaisheadingtoyourplace.Canyouletmeknowwhenshe’stheresafe,please?She’llneedtheguestroom.
Harvey:Whatdidyoudotoher?
Cade:Whyisthatthefirstplaceyourheadgoes?
Harvey:Becauseyouhaveaknackforduckingthingsup.
Cade:Ducking?
Harvey:Duckoff.YouknowexactlywhatImean.
Cade:Myfingersarebroken.Thanksforyourconcern.
Harvey:Myonlyconcernisaboutpossiblebraindamagesinceyouletyourgirlwalkout.She’sheresafe.
Cade:Mybrainisfine.
Harvey:Couldhavefooledme.
***
Idon’tneedanightalonetogathermythoughtsatall.ButIcouldtellbytheexpressiononherfacethatshedid.I’veseenthatlookbefore—adeercaughtintheheadlights.
Willapridesherselfongoingwiththeflow,butnowshehittherapidsandshe’sfreakingout.Alothaschangedforherinaverybrieftime.Irememberthisfeelingwell,butit’sdifferentthistimearound.
I’drathershefreaksoutwithme,butIalsoknowbetterthantosmothersomeoneasindependentasher,whichiswhyIletherdriveaway.
ButIjumpinmytruckandfollowhertothemainhouse,notabouttositathomealonewhensheandLukearebothunderoneroof.
Wheretheygo,Igo.Itjustfeelsright.
Ipullupandkillmyengine,eyeslockedontheguestroomwindow.Whenthelightturnsoff,Igetoutandmakemywayinsidethroughthefrontdoor.Ishouldprobablybethinkingaboutanewbaby—andIwill—butrightnow,allIcanthinkaboutisWilla.Soothingher.Holdingher.
Keepingher.
WhenIstepintothedimlylitlivingroom,Icatchsightofmydadinhisdeepleatherrecliner,aglassofbourboninhishand.
Andhe’sgrinningatmelikeafuckingloon.
“Whatareyousmilingat?”
“Youmadetherightdecisionforonce.”
Iglareathim.“Foronce?Whatthefuckisthatsupposedtomean?”
“Pouryourselfadrink,sitdown,anddroptheassholeactwithme,kid.Itdoesn’tscaremeonebit.”
Withaheavysigh,Iheadtothekitchenandpourmyselfaveryheftythreefingersofbourbonbeforeheadingbacktothelivingroomandfloppingdownontothecouch.
“Youmadetherightdecisioncomingafterher.Youstartstormingoutoneachotherthisearlyonandyou’llbeinfortrouble.”
“Shedidn’tstormout.Shejustneededspace.”
“Icanseeneedingspacefromyou.”Iscowlathim.“Whatdidyoudo?”heasks,addinginsulttoinjury.
“Nothing.”Ipause,tippingmyhead.“Well,notnothing-nothing.SomethingcameupandIcouldhavereactedbetter.Ifroze.”
Mydad’shawkisheyesnarrowasheregardsme.“ThishavetodowithTalia?”
Iwaveahandandscoff.“No.”Taliawaltzedin,stirredshitup,andtookoffagain.Flakyasalways.
“Well,fillmein.Maybeyouroldmancanhelp.”
Myheadflopsbackagainstthecouch,awrylaughbubblingupoutofme.“She’spregnant.”
Icanfeelmydad’sstare,seehimtakeathoughtfulsipoutofthecornerofmyeye.“DidIletyouwatchthebullsgetturnedoutwiththeheiferstoomuchasachild,boy?”
Igroan.
“Yougotsomethingagainstcondoms?”
“Dad.”
“SomesortofbreedingkinkIdon’tknowabout?”
Ithrowanarmovermyeyes.“Nevertalktomeagain.Thatyouevenknowthattermisaltogethertoomuchinformation.”
“Whyareyousittingoutherewithme?”
“BecauseIstaredatherblanklyandsaidnothingwhenshetoldme.IkeptrunningthroughallthethingsIwantedtosaytoherandthenjustclammedup.Idon’twanthertofeeltrappedbyme,orbythis.”Iswivelafingeraround,gesturingtotheranch.
“Didyouaskherifshefeelsthatway?”
“No.Ijustaskedoverandoveragainwhyshehadacarrotinherpurselikeatotaldolt.”
“Listen,Idon’twanttohearaboutwhateverweirdshityoukidsareinto.”
“Holyshit.Pleasejustkillmebeforeyousaysomethingelsethatmakesmewanttocleanmyearswithacid.”
Mydadcarrieson,undeterred,butIcanhearthehumorinhisvoice.He’shavingfunwatchingmesquirm.“Youtwoneedtotalk.IknowTaliafuckedyouup,butdon’tletherfuckthisupforyoutoo.Ifyouwantthatgirlandthatbaby,youneedtotellher.Ifyoudon’t,thenyouneedtoworksome—”
Rageflashesthroughmybody,hotandsharpatthementionofmenotwantingher.“Ido,”Ibiteoutharshly.“Iwantthat.Iwantitall.”
“ThenstopEeyoringaroundoutherewithme,yougrumpydumbass.I’mgoingtobed.Y’allkidsexhaustme.”
Hisglassclanksagainstthetable,andheretreatstobedwithoutanotherword.Andme?Itakemydrinkandpadquietlythroughthehouse.ToWilla’sdoor.
Idropmyselfontothefloorandleanagainstthewall.Iplantowaituntilshe’shadthenighttoherselfsoIcantossherovermyshoulderandcarryherbacktoourhouse.
Shemightneedtimetothinkaboutthings.
ButIsureasshitdon’t.
***
IwakeupwhenIfallandhittheflooratWilla’sfeet.
“Whatthehellareyoudoing?”
Pushinguponmyhandsbacktositting,Ishakemyheadtoclearthecobwebsandthelightachethattoomuchbourbonhasleftbehind.Scrubbingmypalmsovermyeyes,IstareupintothefaceofthewomanIknowI’mgoingtospendtherestofmylifewith.
Iflopbackagainstthedoorframeandstareatherforaminute.Reallytakeherin.
She’sfuckingperfect.
“Areyoudrunk?”Hereyeslandontheemptyglassbesideme.“Whyareyoustaringatme?”Herarmscrossoverherbody,andshepopsahipout.
“I’mnotdrunk.”Anymore.
“Didyousleepouthere?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“BecauseIdidn’tliketheideaofyoubeingalone.”
“Ugh.”Hereyesshutandherheadtipsback.“That’sreallyromantic.”
“Ididn’tneedtimetogathermythoughtsatall.”
Herheadsnapsdownnow.“Yeah?Isthatwhyyousatthereallwide-eyed,askingaboutmycarrot?”
IlaughbecauseIcan’thelpit.“Idowanttoknowaboutthecarrot.ButIwaswide-eyedbecauseIwastryingtogaugeyouandseehowIshouldreact.I’msorryIstayedsilent.TherearealotofthingsIshouldhavesaid.”
Shesighsheavilyandthenslidesdowntheoppositesideofthedoorframetofaceme.“Youaccidentallyknockedawomanuponcewhoupendedyourwholelifebypretendingshewasonbirthcontrol,soIcanseehowthenannywhotoldyoushe’sonbirthcontrolgettingpregnantmightfreakyouout.”
Mybrowsfurrow.“Willa—”
“IswearIdidn’tlie.IswearI’mtakingmypills.WintersaidthatwhenIwassick,theyprobablydidn’tstaydownandthatmighthavefuckeditallup,andIdidn’teventhinkaboutit,andeventhoughI’vethoughtabouthavinglikeamillionbabieswithyouoneday,Ijustabsolutelydidnotdothisonpurpose,eventhoughI’mactuallynotthatsadaboutit,whichsoundsawful,becauselike,Idon’twanttotrapyouwithme,solike—”
“Willa!”
Hereyeswidendramaticallyassheleansbackalittle.Ireachforwardandplunkherbarefeetintomylapwithmygoodhand.“You’regoingtocollapsealungtalkinginrun-onsentenceslikethat,baby.Andthere’snooneI’dratherbetrappedwith.”Sheblinksatme,andIrubmythumbsalongthearchesofherfeetandupherankles.
“Ihaven’tshavedmylegs.”
Ichuckle.“Idon’tcare.Don’tyougetit?I’minlovewithyou,Willa.Pricklylegs,randomcarrotsinyourpurse,pregnant,notpregnant.Iwantyou.”
Tearsspringupinhereyes,andhervoiceisraspywhenshesays,“Butthishashappenedtoyoubefore,andIdon’twanttobelumpedinwiththatshit.Idon’twantyoubeingwithmeoutofsomesortofobligation.Wehaven’teventoldpeopleaboutus.Wehaven’tfiguredasinglethingout.You’venevertoldmethatyouloveme.ButnowI’mpregnantandthat’sallgoingtohappen?Itjustfeels…forced.”
“Willa.”IcanhearanedgeofpanictothetoneI’musing.“Nothingisforced.Wewereonthistrackalready.We’renottwopeoplewhowereunhappyandnowaretryingtomakesomethingworkthatwasn’tworkingbefore.Wewerehappy.”
“Yeah.Wewere.Butthisisyourpersonality.Thisisyouswoopingintoberesponsiblebeforeyou’veevenprocessedwhatthismeansbecauseyourfirstinstinctistotakecareofeveryonebeforeyoutakecareofyourself.”
Icanonlyblinkather.ThisconversationisnotgoingthewayIexpecteditto.
“Willa,stop—”
“No.”Sheholdsherhandup.“Forallthetimesyou’vetoldmetoshutupandlisten,it’snowyourturn,Cade.”
Shepullsherfeetawayandpushesuptostand.“Idon’twanttobeanotherobligationinyourlife.Anotherburden.Anotherreasonyou’remissingoutonallthethingsyoualwayswantedtodo.AndmaybeI’mnot.Maybethisisahappyaccident.Butgettinginjured,followedbyfindingoutshocking,life-alteringnews,followedbygettingdrunkonthefloor”—shepointsattheemptyglassbesideme—“isn’ttherightrecipetoberushingintosomethinglikethis.”
Hersighisheavy,andonestraytearrollsdownhercheek.Iraisemyhand,needingtowipeitawayforher.“I’mgoingtogobacktomyplaceinthecity—”
Mymouthopenstoargue,buthereyesnarrowandshemakesthiszippingmotionwithherhandthatendsinpinchingherfingerstogetherbeforeshecontinues,“Forafewdays.Iwanttoseemydoctorandconfirmthings.AndIwantyoutospendsometimethinking.Iwanttoknowthatthisisn’tsomeshotgunrelationshipbuiltonfailedbirthcontrolandastupidstomachbug.Sodon’tfollowme.Youhaveoptions,andyouarefreetotakethem.Iwantyoutoletyourselfconsideryouroptions,becausenoonehaseverreallygivenyouanyoptions,Cade.Andyoudeservethem.”
Icanfeelmyentirebodyslumpingdeeperwitheverywordshesays.Iknowinmyheartwhat’sright.Butthethingsshe’ssayingaboutmeandmylife?They’retrue.AndI’vespentsomanyyearsworkingtofixeverythingaroundmethatI’veneverjustsathereandletmyselffeelsadaboutthefactI’veneverreallyconsideredmyoptions.
Shecrouchesbeforemenow,framingmyfacewithherpalms.“Morethananythingintheworld,Iwantyoutobehappy.Youdeservetobehappy.”
Herlipspressgentlytomyforehead,andthenshestepsoverme,scoopingonehanddowntopickupthediscardedglassbeforewalkingaway.
Everypartofmewantstogoafterher,butsometimeslovingsomeonemeansgivingthemthespacetheywant.Thespacetheyneed.Foralittlewhile,atleast
Soinstead,Ijustsithere.Thinkingaboutmyoptions.AbouthowWillaistheonlyoptionIwant.
AndabouthowI’llrespectherwishesuntilIcan’ttakeitanymore.
ThenI’mthrowingherovermyshoulderandbringingherhome.33Willa
Summer:Dude.Whereareyou,andwhyisCaderage-landscapinghisfrontyardwithbrokenfingers?
Willa:I’matmyplaceinthecity.Isheokay?
Summer:Idon’tknow.There’salotofsweatingandgrunting.Itseemsalittlebitlikehisshovelhasdonesomethingtooffendhim.
Willa:Canyoujustkeepaneyeonhim?I’mworriedabouthim.
Summer:Fuckno.ButRhettcan.I’mcomingtoyourplacewithabottleofchampagne.
Willa:It’snotgoingtobeachampagnekindofvisit.
Summer:Don’tbeadowner.
Willa:Sorry.ButI’mgoingtobeadownerforapproximatelythenextninemonths.
Summer:Ohshit.Onmyway.I’llgrabingredientstobakecookies.
***
“Whenistheappointment?”Summermumblesaroundamouthfulofwarmcookie.
“Tomorrow.”Ican’teveneatthecookiesImade.Ifeelsickandithasnothingtodowithbeingpregnant.
“Areyouworried?”Concernlaceshereveryfeature.
“Aboutwhat?I’mprettysureabloodtestwillonlyconfirmwhatIalreadyknow.”
Shenods.“Isawyourbathroomgarbageisfullofabunchofwhatyoualreadyknow.Howmanytestsdidyoubuy?”
“Twenty.”
“Seemsreasonable.”Shenods,takinganotherbite.
“Iwantedtobesure.”
“Howdidyouevenmanagetopeethatmuch?”
Ichuckleatthat.Leaveittomybestfriendtopickoutsomeinanedetailandfixateonit.“Somuchwater.IthinkI’mhydratedforatleastaweeknow.RememberwhenIdrankwaytoomuchJ?germeisterandgotsupersick?”
Shelaughsnow.“Yeah.Youbarfedinthecabandthecabbyaskedifyou’dbeendrinkingJ?germeisterbecausetheentirecarsmelledlikeit.”
Ishudder.“I’vestillneverhadanothersipofitbecauseofthat.Anyway,feelinglikethataboutwaterrightnow.”
“Areyounauseous?”
“Abit,”Iconcede.“ButIdon’tthinkit’shormonal.”
“IsitCade?”
“Yeah.AndLuke.I’mworriedaboutthem.Imissthemandit’sbeenallofadaysinceIleft.Ishouldn’tbethisdependentonhim.Ishouldbeabletohandleadayawayfromhimwithoutmissinghimsomuchthatitmakesmefeelsick.Ican’tevensleep,”Igrowlinfrustration.
Summersmilessoftlyatme,reachingovertopushsomehairbehindmyear.“Wils,welcometobeinginlove.”
Isqueezemyeyesshutandflopmyheadbackagainstthecouch.“Thisistheworstfuckingfeeling.Whydopeoplelikebeinginloveagain?Obsessedandemotionalandclingy.Overrated,ifyouaskme.”
“Iknowyou’rejokingbecausethat’swhatyoudowhenyou’reupset.”
“Jesus.HaveyouandCadebeenconspiringagainstmeorsomething?Whyareyoubothalwayspointingthisoutaboutme?Justletmehavemyquirks,okay?”
“It’sokaytofeelsad,Willa.It’sokaytofeeloverwhelmed.It’sdefinitelyokaytoneedacoupleofdaysalonetodigest.Butyoucanoverthinkthistoo.Youcanturnitinsideoutuntilitlookslikesomethingdifferentthanwhatitis.”
Iholdmyhandsovermyface,feelingtearsleakoutagainstthem.“Whatisit?Idon’tevenknow.”
SummerrubsmybackbecausesheissomesortofangelsenttoplanetEarth.Abetterpersonthanthevastmajorityofus.“Idon’tknowwhatitis.ButfromwhereI’msitting,it’stwosmartlovingadultswhoarenavigatingacurveballinthebestwaytheyknowhow.”
Asobracksmybody.
“It’stwopeoplewhowerebothalittlelostuntiltheyendeduponthesamepathandwalkedtogetherforawhile.”
Idropmyhead,openlycryingnow.IthinkSummeristryingtomakemeweep.
“It’stwopeoplewhoarehappierineachother’scompanythantheyarealone.”NowIcanhearthetearsinhervoicetoo.“Bettertogetherthantheyareapart.”
Iturntohughernow,wonderingifIcanblametheuncontrollablewayI’mcryingonmyhormones.
“Justdon’tmakehimwaittoolong,Wils,”shewhispersagainstmyear.“Heisheartbrokenwithoutyou.”
Thewaysheemphasizesheartbrokenismyundoing.Isoaktheshoulderofhershirt,becausethetruthofthematterisIthoughtIneededspace…
ButI’mheartbrokenwithouthimtoo.34Cade
Summer:Hi!Justmessagingtoseeifyou’dliketocomefordinner?
Harvey:Hi,son.ThinkingIcouldtakeLukeoffyourhandsfortheday.
Rhett:Mywifemessagedyouaboutdinner.Youhaven’tanswered.Don’tberudetoherorI’lldriveoverandkickyourass.
Jasper:Wantfreeticketstothegametonight?WouldlovetoseeyouandLuke.
Violet:Iwastoldtomessageyouandseeifyou’drespond.You’retoooldtosulk,Cade.Knockitoff.
***
AllIwantedfromthemainhousewasthebagsofcementfromtheshed.AllIneedistogetlostinsomephysicallabor.Alone.Awayfrompityinglooksandoverbearingfamily.
ButhereIam,watchingLukeshout“hello”downthewell.Itshouldmakemesmile,butsmilingfeelshardtoday.
SmilingwithoutWillaaroundfeelsimpossible.
“Dad.Doyouthinktherecouldbesomeonedownthere?”
Okay.Creepy.“Nopal.Justabunchofcoins.”
Hisheadcantstothesidecuriously.“Coins?”
Isighheavily,droppingthebagsoneithersideofmyselfasItrudgetowardthewell.“Yeah.MymomandIusedtotosscoinsdownthereandmakewishes.”Ipeerdownintotheblackhole,feelingkindredwithitsomehow.Empty.Echoey
“Grandma?”LukeknowsallabouthisgrandmaIsabelle,eventhoughhenevergottomeether.
“Yeah.Shenamedthisranchafterthewell.WhentheyboughtthelandGrandpatoldhershecouldnameitwhatevershewanted.”
“Whatwouldyouwishfor?”Hepeeksinagain,andIputahandonhisshoulder.Watchinghimleanovertheedgegivesmefull-blownanxiety.
Iscrubatmybeardwiththeoppositehand,rackingmybrain.Ican’tremember.Thatpartofmylifefeelslikealifetimeago.Likeanotherlifealtogether.“Probablycandy.”
Luke’sheadbobsinapproval.“Smart.Didyourwishescometrue?”
Mylipsquirkatthat.Heneverfailstoliftmyspirits.Knowingmymom,I’msureabunchofourwishesdidcometrue.“Usually.”
“Doyouhaveanycoins?Iwanttomakeawish.”
Weightlandsinmystomachandmylungsconstrict.Suchasimplerequest,andyetitfeelsintenselymeaningful.I’mdoingwithmylittleboywhatmymomoncedidwithme.
Ipullmywalletoutwordlessly,unzippingthesmallcoinpouch.
“Doesitmatterwhatkindofcoin?”
“No,bud.”IpressasilvercoinintohishandbutpauseasI’mabouttoputtheleatherwalletaway.Withalittleshakeofmyhead,Itakeonemorecoinout.
Oneformyself.
“Okay,”Istart,swallowingtheuncharacteristicthicknessinmythroat.“Onthree.Closeyoureyes.”
Luke’seyesclampshut,andahintofsteelflashesonhisface.He’sfocusingveryhard.Takingthisveryseriously.
Irufflehishaironce,remindingmeofsilky,copperystrandsasIdo,andthenIclosemyeyes.“One…two…three…”
Thesoundofourcoinsplunkingintothewaterbelowmingleswiththesoundofwindchimesonthebackporch.
Eyesshut,IwishforWilla.
Alifewithher.
Afamilywithher.
Grayhairandmorelaughterwithher.
WhenIopenmyeyes,Lukeisstaringatmewithathoughtfulexpressiononhisface.
“Whatdidyouwishfor?”Iaskhim,needingsomethinglighthearted.Thinkingitwillbesomethingridiculous.Somethingfrivolous.
Instead,hedeliversagutpunch.
Onesoftcheekhitchesup,andheglancesbackdownintothedarkwell.“IwishedforWillatocomeback.”
MyeyesburnwhenIpullhimintome,feelhistinyarmsclutchingatmywaist.
AndmyvoicecrackswhenIsay,“Metoo,pal.Metoo.”35Willa
Willa:HowisCade?
Summer:Fullhermit-mode.Backtohatingeveryone.Pleasecomefixhim.
Willa:I’monmyway.
***
Withapositivebloodtestinhand,IgetinmyJeepandstartthedrivebackouttoWishingWellRanch.
Ascitystreetsmorphintofreewaysthatmorphintocountryroads,IletmymindwandertohowthingshavechangedsincethelasttimeIdroveouthere.HowIflewouthereonawhim,windinmyhairandnotasingleresponsibilityonmyradar.
Yeah.Thingshavechanged.Drastically.
ButI’moddlyatpeace.
I’veshedtearsthelastcoupleofdays,andIamnotacrier.I’vemadeplansformyself,andIamnotaplanner.Ihavefreshperspective.TookthespaceIneededtoprocess.
I’verealizedI’mbetterwithCadethanIamwithouthim.AndIthinkhe’sbetterwithmetoo.Iintendtotellhimasmuchandthenwatchhimrollhiseyesatme.
It’sgoingtobesoromantic.
Asthedrivewearson,Igetlostinmythoughtsandmyanxietygrows.What-ifspopintomyhead.Ilistentothemostupbeat’80smusicIcanfindandchewnervouslyonmynails,hopingthathewantsthisasmuchasIdo.HopingIhaven’tmadehimfeelstuck.
WhenIreachthelongdriveway,IputmyJeepinparkandtakesomedeepbreathsandshiftinmydriver’sseatandstartdoingthedrunk-girlpeptalkagain.ExceptI’mdeadsoberandmyconcernsarewaybiggerthanifIlooksweatyorstumbleinfrontofahotguyatthebar.
I’masmart,capableadult.Ihavefamilyandfriendswholoveme.Thisisjustanotheropportunityformetostartanewchapterinmylife.I’mahotfuckingmess.
Shakingmyheadatmyself,IputtheJeepbackintodriveandheadstraightforCade’slittleredhouse.
Thelittleredhousewithafreshlypouredsidewalkoutfront.
Thelittleredhousewithasweetdark-hairedboystrumminghisguitaronthefrontstep.
Thelittleredhousewithamanwhomakesmyheartraceandmycheeksheatjustbyscowlingatmethewayheisnow.
AndIhavetowonderifit’snotascowlatall.Becausetheexpressionissofulloflove,sofulloflonging,thatthemusclesinmychestseizeandIrushtoparksothatIcanbeoutofthisvehicleandbreathingthesameairasthem.
Myboys.
“Willa!”Luke’squicklyforgottenguitarrestsonthestepashetearsacrossthefrontlawntowardme.“I’msogladyou’reback!”
“Metoo,pal.Metoo,”IsayasIwrapmyarmsaroundhim.Butmyeyesfixateonhisdad,who’sstandingthere,wearingapairofjeanslikeasecondskin,handscasuallyslungonhiships.Fuckinghatturnedbackward.
AcountryboywholooksasgoodasCadeEatonshouldbeillegal.
Butinstead,he’smine
“Hi,”Ibreathe,unabletotearmyeyesaway.
“Hi,Red,”herepliesbuthedoesn’tmove.Hissonstayslatchedontomelikealittlebarnacle.
“Howareyou?”
Hisjawpopsashestaresbackatme,andIgetnervous.MaybeindoingwhatIthoughtwasbestforCade,Ishotmyselfinthefoot.
Butwhenhesays,“Betternowthatyou’rehere,”Iknowthat’snottrue.
GivingLukealittlepatontheback,Isay,“Luke,canyouheadinsideforafewminutes?Ineedtohaveaprivatechatwithyourdad.AndI’llknowifyou’reeavesdropping.”
Thesheepishgrinhegiftsmehasmesmilingbackathim.Hisbrightblueeyes,sun-kissedcheeksfromasummerspentinthesun…I’veneverfallenharderorfasterforasinglepersonintheworldthanIhaveforLucasEaton.
“Okay.ButfirstIwanttoshowyouthesidewalkwemade.”Hethreadshissmallfingersthroughmineandpullsmeoffthegraveldrivewaytothefreshlypouredwalkway.Like,Ithinkitmightactuallystillbewet.
Whenwegetcloser,thewetconcreteconfirmsmysuspicions.Icansmellthatchalkyscentpermeatingthesurroundingair,butit’swhat’sdecoratingthewalkwaythatstopsmeinmytracks.
Thereareshinystonespressedintotheconcrete,laidoutintheshapesofhearts,runningthefulllengthofthewalkway.
“Plainwasboring.Sowedecorated!They’relikethatdayweusedchalkonthedrivewayatthemainhouse!”Lukeexclaims.
IpeekupatCade.“LikeValentine’sDaythrewupeverywhere?”
Hislipstwitchandhejustnods.
“Andthenuphere”—Lukedragsmetowardthehouse—“wewroteourinitialsinsidethehearts.”
“Ilovethat!”Iexclaim,givinghimafirmsidehug.
Henodshappily,bitingathislip,andlookingsodamnproud.“Andthisoneisyours.”Hepointsataheartthat’srightnexttoonewiththeinitialsC.E.,exceptthisonesaysW.E.
“MyinitialsareW.G.,bud.”
Igivehimanothersqueezeandhegiggles.Cluelessly.“Iknow.Butdadmadethatone.Itoldhimthesamething.”MyheadsnapsaroundtoCade,whostillhasn’tmovedbutisstaringatmelikeImightdisappearifheblinks.“Buthesaidtheywouldn’tbeforlong.”
AsobthatcouldpassasalaughburstsfrommylipsasIblinkfuriously,desperatetonotfallapartrighthereinfrontofthem.“Iloveit,Luke.Thewholesidewalkisjustbeautiful.”Ihughimagain,suckinginairthroughmynoseandtryingtocomposemyself.
“Good.I’msohappyyou’reback!Ifyoudidn’tcomebacktoday,Dadsaidhewasgoingtodriveintothecityandgetyou.”Ialmostchuckle.That’ssuchaCadethingtosay.
Afteronelasthug,Lukeboundsupthestairstothefrontdoor.Butjustlikehe’sdoneoncebefore,hestopsandlooksbackatCadeandmewithapleasedsmileonhisfaceandsays,“See,Dad?Itoldyounottobesad.Itoldyoushe’dcomeback.Ourwishescametrue!Shelovesustoomuchtoleave.”
Thescreendoorslamsandhe’sgone.
AndI’mcrying,handscoveringmyface.I’moverwhelmed.Relieved.And,okay,possiblyhormonal.
“Hey,hey.”WithinsecondsCadeisreachingforme,gatheringmeintohisstrongarmsandholdingmetightagainsthischest.“Baby,don’tcry.Youdon’tneedtocry.Ithinkifyoucry,Imightcry.AndI’mnotacrier.”
“I’mnotacriereither!”Isob,nuzzlingagainsthisshirtandtakingdeeppullsofhispinescentthatImissedsobadlytheselastfewdays.“ButIswearIhaven’tstoppedcryingsinceIleftthisplace.”
Herocksusgently,likeasoft,quietdance.Theonlymusicisthechirpingofbirdsandgentlebreezeacrossthehayfieldoutback.Hedoesn’ttalk.Hejustholdsmeuntilmybreathingevensoutandthestresshasmeltedfrommylimbs.
EventuallyhetipsmychinupsothatI’mforcedtolookathim.Hischiseled,masculinefeaturesareawelcomesight.“Youpayingattentionrightnow,Red?BecauseI’vespentdaysthinkinghardaboutmylife,andI’vegotsomethingstotellyou.”
Inodandpressmylipstogether,asilentpromisetolistentohimandnotjusttalkathim.
Withadeepsigh,hestarts,“Thankyou.Thankyouforbeingthefirstpersoninmylifetoputmefirst,togivemeoptions.I’mnotsureIdeservethatgift,butIknowthatI’llneverforgetitforaslongasIlive.”
Histhumbsstrokealongthepeaksofmycheekbones,andheholdsmyheadbetweenhispalms.Reverently.Delicately.Withsomuchlove.“You’rerightthatIdidthisonceoutofobligation.ButI’mathirty-eight-year-oldmanwhohastakenyearstotrustsomeoneagain.I’vehadalotoftimetothinkaboutwhereIwentwrong.YouarenotadecisionImadelightly.AndtyingmyselftosomeoneIdon’tloveoutofsomemisplacedsenseofdutyisnotamistakeIplantomaketwice.”
Atearslipsoutofmyeye,andhethumbsitawayinstantly,strokingatmyhairnowlikehealwaysdoes.“I’mgladyouaren’tsadaboutthebabybecauseI’mnoteither.ButIwanttobeclearthatyouhaveoptions.Alltheoptionsintheworld.AndI’llbeherewithyou,nomatterwhat.IwanttocomehometothesoundofyouandLukelaughing.IwanttolistentoyouplaytheguitarwhileIcookdinner.IwanttoleaveyouPost-itnotesforalongtime.Idon’twantyoutofeelstuckwithme.”
Moretearsslidedownmycheeks,andhecatcheseverysingleone.Alwayssturdyandreliable.
“IdoreallyloveyourPost-itnotes,”Iwhisper.
“ThenI’llkeepwritingthem.”
“ButIstillthinkI’mabettercook.”Ihuffout,andIknowI’mtryingtocutthetensionwithhumor,itworksformethough,andI’llprobablyneverstop.
Cadegroansbutit’splayful.“We’llhavetolearntoagreetodisagreeonsomethingsbecauseI’mnotlettingyougo.”
“Lukeagreeswithme,”Iargue,slidingmyhandsuphischest.
“Ithinkit’scutewhenyoutwoteamuponme.I’llhavetomakesurethenewbabyisonmyteamthough.Train’emyoung.”
Withadeep,relievedsigh,Icurlmyselfbackintohischestandrevelinthefeelofhisarmsaroundme.AndIsaymypiece.“Idon’tfeelstuckwithyouatall.ForweeksI’vebeendreadingleaving.You.Luke.Thisplace.I’veneverfeltsosettled…soathome.Ialsoneversawmylifeunfoldingthisway.”
Herubsahandupanddownthecolumnofmyspine.“Meneither,Red.That’sjustlife.Butyouknow,I’mnotsureI’dhaveitanyotherway.”
“You’renotsad?”
“Notevenalittlebit,”herepliesfirmly.AndIcantellthathemeansit.“I’vewatchedyouwithLukeformonthsnowandmarveledoverwhatanincrediblemomyou’dbeoneday.AmomIwishedLukecouldhaveforhimself…”Hetrailsoffbeforeadding,“Areyousad?”
“Notevenalittlebit,”Iwhisperhiswordsback,andhedropshislipstothecrownofmyheadbeforepressingmycheekbacktohissternum.RightwhereIcanfeelthesteady,strongthumpingofhisheart.
“Mydadknowsyou’repregnant.”
“Okay.”
“HeaskedmeifIhaveabreedingkink.”
Myhandscomeuptocovermyfaceandlaughtershakesmybody.“No,hedidn’t.”
“Hedid.”
“Jesus.”Imurmur,butit’sstillalittlethin.Alittlewatery.
“ForgetJesus.Tellmeaboutthecarrot.I’vebeenthinkingaboutitfordays.”
“Thewomanyou’veknownforalloftwomonthstellsyousheaccidentallygotpregnantandwhatkeepsyouupiswonderingaboutthecarrotinherpurse?”
Hechucklesandgivesmyhairalittletug,tippingmyfaceuptohis.“Yeah.”Heshrugs.“Youfeelrightinmylife.InLuke’slife.Wejust…makesensetomesomehow.Andanotherlittlepersonwilltoo.Nothingaboutthatfeelswrongtome.Theonlythingthatdoesn’tmakesenseisthatfuckingcarrot.”
Ilaughagain,becauseeverythinghejustsaidissoquintessentiallyhim.He’snotfloweryorshowy.He’smatter-of-fact,andhejustlaidhisheartonthelineforme.ItseemsliketheleastIcandoisexplainthecarrot.“It’sjustfromfeedingthehorseswithLuke…Ithink.”
“Youthink?”
Busted.“Yeah,Idon’ttotallyrecallputtingitinthereifI’mbeinghonest.ItcouldbefromwhenIstilllivedinthecity.”
“Butthat’smonthsago.”Hesoundssuitablyhorrified.Iwonderifhe’shavingsecondthoughtsaboutbeingwithagirlwhokeepsoldcarrotsinherpurse
“Yeah,”Ireplylamely,nibblingatmylip.
“Pantiesandcarrots.”Heshakeshisheadandletshishandsroammybackasmybreathingcontinuestoevenout.“Ican’twaittoseewhatfallsoutoftherenext.”
Westandinsilenceforseveralminutes,justholdingeachotherinthemiddleofthefrontyard,besidethehearthemadeforme,withmyfutureinitialswrittenintothecenter.Likehe’sjustthatsureofme—ofus.
Likewe’rebettertogetherandheknowsit.
“Iloveyou,Cade,”Imurmuragainsthischest.
“Iloveyoutoo,Red.”
Thenhejustholdsmetighter,andIhopeheneverletsgo.36Cade
Cade:Whatareyoudoing?Braidingyourhair?
Rhett:No,polishingmynails.
Cade:We’regoingtobelate.
Rhett:Dude.Youreventisn’tevenuntiltomorrow.Takeabreath.
Rhett:Areyouseriouslyoutsidemyhousehonkingrightnow?
Cade:Yes.Makingpeoplewaitisrude.
Rhett:Youcan’trushperfection.
Cade:Nothingaboutyouisperfect.
Rhett:No.ButthissignImadeyouis.
***
“Iwishyou’djusthurryandhavethisbabyalready.Iamsoexcited.”Summerbouncesonherseatinthebackofmytruck.Icanpracticallyseetheexcitementpouringoffherthroughmyrearviewmirror.
“Sum.Holdyourhorses.I’mlikethreemonthspregnant,”Willarepliesfrombehindme.
“Shehasn’tstoppedtalkingaboutit.”Rhettlaughsashisfingersdrumonthepassenger’sseatdoor,justabovewherehe’sprotectivelywedgedtheposterboardRhettcreatedformyeventtomorrow.It’ssparklyandreads:Notbad.Foranoldguy.
Fuckingdick.
“Ugh.It’sjustgoingtobethecutestbabythough.I’msoreadytobethecoolaunt.”
Thebuzzaroundthenewbabyhasn’tdiedoffatallsincewecameoutabouteverything.Everyoneisoverthemoon.
ButnoonemorethanLuke.
Whenwesatdownandtoldhim,hecriedhappytears.AndsodidI.Thebridgeofmynosetinglesjustthinkingaboutthewaymylifehaschangedagainsoquickly.Sounexpectedly.
It’safuckingthemeformeatthispoint.
“Dude.”Willapunchesmybrotherintheshoulder.“Readbetweenthelineshere.Stopdickingaroundandmakeitsothatourkidscangrowupasbestfriends.”
Rhett’sfaceturnsserious,andheshakeshisheadsolemnly—butIseethatshit-disturbertwitchofhislips.Sameonethatwasadeadgiveawayasachildtoo.
“Idon’tknowwhattotellyou,Willa.Wekeeppracticingandpracticing,andpracticing,andnothingeverhappens.It’sexhausting,youknow?Ihavetowonderifit’sallthebirthcontrolwe’reusing?”
“Eatadick,kid.”Itakemyturn,knockingahandagainstmylittlebrother’schest.
“No,babe,”Summerpipesup,“it’sjustthatyoudon’thaveabreedingkink.”Shecan’tevengetthewordsoutwithoutsnortingandwheezing.
“I’mnevergonnafuckinglivethatdown.”Igrindmyteethtokeepfromsmiling.
WhatIhearbackisachorusof“nevers”fromeverysinglepersoninmytruck.ButIalsofeelWilla’shandslideovermyshouldertogivemealittlesqueeze.Ireachupandlayahandoverhers,knowingthat,jokesaside,we’rebothexcitedaboutthis.
We’resurprisedandalittleunprepared,buthappy.Sodamnhappy.Goingwiththeflowhasneverfeltbetter.Cheesyasitsounds,I’veneverfeltmoreatpeace.
Ispentyearsfeelingjilted.Feelingangry.FeelinglikeeveryonearoundmehadeverythinggoingforthemandIwasjuststuckinarutofresponsibility.
AndthenHurricaneWillablewintotownandturnedeverythingupsidedowninthebestfuckingway.
Isqueezeherhandandpullittomylips,pressingakisstotheknucklesofthewomanIchose—thelifeIchose.
“Jesus.Whoevenareyou?”Rhettasks,lookingalittleshocked.
Nowit’sSummer’sturntoslapthetopofhishead.“Stoppickingonthem.It’ssweet.”
“Whythefuckiseveryonehittingme?”
IchuckleasSummerrespondswith,“Becauseyoudeserveit.”
Withthatsentiment,wepullintotherodeogroundsandthechaosoftheCanadianChampionshipRodeoswallowsusall.
***
Competinghereisadreamthat’sbeenlongforgotten.Longshutawayasamissedopportunity,somethingIwastoooldfor—toobusyfor.
UntilWillasatinthathottubanddaredmetotakeashot.Turnsoutourrunsweregoodenoughtoqualifyusforthefinals.
WhichmeansI’mnotgoingtoletthefactthatmyfingersaren’tcompletelyhealedstopme.
BlueberryistakingeverythinginstridefromwhereIsitonherback.Herpricklypersonalitywon’tletherbespooked.Everytimeanotherhorsewalkspast,sheflattensherearsatthem,whichmakesmesmile.She’snotawarm-and-fuzzytypeofmare,butshe’sgoodatwhatshedoes.
We’rekindredthatway.
MydadhasLukeoutinthestands,andtherestofourgroupisstandingbesidemeinthestagingarea.
“Areyounervous?”Willasqueezesmylegandpeersupatme.Thewaysheglowsmakesmythroatconstrict.Herhairisallcurled.Hernewbootsarefuck-mehotandaregoingtolooksogoodwrappedaroundmywaistlater.She’snotshowingmuchyet,butherjeansareextratightaroundherass,andIkeepgettingbustedcheckingherout.
“Nah,”Ireply,smoothingmyhandoverherhair.
“Iloveitwhenyoupetme.”Shesighsandcloseshereyeswithalowchuckle.
“Y’allarefuckin’weird,”Rhettquipsfrombesideus,armslungoverSummer’sshoulders,withacockysmirkonhisface.“I’dtellyounottoworryaboutthebucklebunnies,Willa,butapparentlyCadeissointoPDAnowthathepracticallybroadcastshowtakenheis.”
Willastaresbackatmybrotherblankly.“Whatareyoutalkingabout,Rhett?Iamabucklebunny.”Sheputsherfingersintheshapeofaheartandframestheviewthroughthemaroundmyface.
“Cade?Lance?Josh?”Theringstewardcallsourteam’snames,andwithaquickwinkdownatmygirl,we’regone.
Blueberry’seasystridesturnintoaprancebeneathme,ashowylittlejogasweenterthering.
Andthisringisn’tjustanothersmall-townfairgrounds.Thisisaproperarena,onewithfullstandsandarowdycrowdhereforashow.
ThisarenaisadreamIneverthoughtwouldcometrue.
Iglanceovermyshoulder,seekingthatflashofcopperyhair.Andshe’sthere,smiling,grippingthemetalfencepanelwithonehand,theotherslungoverherstomach,lookingatmelikeIhungthemoon—andforherIwould.
I’ddoitforeverythingshe’sgivenmeinsuchashorttime…
AloveLukehasneverknown.
Areasonformetosmileagain.
Apersontotalktoaftersomanyyearsofsilence.
AloveI’veneverknown.OneI’mnotsosureIdeserve,butoneI’llspendtherestofmylifetryingtopreserve.ButI’llgettothatpartlater.
Fornow,Iturnmyeyesbackonthepenofcattleandlistencarefullyaswe’regiventhenumber.AndthenIgettoworkbecauseI’mgoingtomakethislifelongdreamcometofruition.
Thenoisycrowdfallsawaywhenthebuzzersounds,andtheonlythingthatexistsiswhat’sbetweenBlueberry’sears.
Shecuts.Sheruns.Sheturns.Shedropsashoulder.
Theleatherofthereinsiswarminmyfingers,andIfeellikeI’mjustalongfortheride.She’sneverperformedsowellinherlife.It’slikesheknowsthisisit.Thebigshow.Ouronechance.
Inwhatfeelslikeittookmereseconds,we’vesquaredawaythecowsandI’mlookingaroundmyselfliketheremustbemore.Likewemusthavemissedsomething.Everythingfeelslikeit’smovinginslowmotion,butjudgingbythewayLanceisstandingupinhisstirrupswhoopinglikeamadman,I’dsaywe’vedoneitanddoneitwell.
Whenthejudgespostourscores,theyconfirmmyhunchandI’mleftshakingmyhead,smilinglikealoon,andsearchingforWilla.
She’sclimbeduptothetopofthefencepanelandisstaringatmewithherhandscuppedoverhermouth,shoutinglikeacrazyperson.Mycrazyperson.
Hereforme
Summeriswhistlinglouderthananyoneinthearena,andRhettisgrinningandshakinghisstupidfuckingsignintheair.
Butit’sWillaIcan’ttakemyeyesfrom.Iridestraighttoher,inthemiddleofapackedarena,slinganarmaroundthebackofherneckandkissher.
Ikissherhard.IkisshertosaythethingsIcan’tfindthewordsfor.
“Iloveyou,CadeEaton,andIamsodamnproudofyou,”iswhatshewhispersinmyearwhileherfingerstrailupthebackofmyneck.
“Iloveyoutoo,baby,”iswhatIgetout,justbeforeshepullstheblackcowboyhatoffmyheadandplunksitonherown.
Leaningbackawayfromme,shegivesmeaplayfullittlesmirk.
Iquirkabrowinherdirection.“Youknowtherule,Red?”
“Youwearthehat,youridethecowboy.”Shewinksatme,lookingfuckingadorablewearingmyhat.Ishouldhaveputitonherforeverago.IshouldhaveputitonherthefirstdayIlaideyesonherinthatcoffeeshop.
Withatwistofmylipsandashakeofmyhead,Iturntorideawayandcelebratewithmyteamforamomentbecausethatscoreisdamnnearunbeatable.
ButIdon’tgetfarbeforeIhearawhistleand,“Lookinggood,Daddy!”followedbythemostbeautifulchime-likelaughter,lightandairyandheartwarming.
ThatlaughIheardmonthsagoandwasinstantlyobsessedwith.JustlikethewomanstaringbackatmefrombeneaththebrimofmyhatwhenItossaglanceovermyshoulder.
AndIrealizeinthatmomentmaybeIamheartlessafterall,becausethebeautifulgirlwiththecopperhairgrinningbackatmerightnowistheonewhostoleit.EpilogueWilla
Cade:I’mgoingtobeinthefarwestfieldtoday.
Willa:Okay.Noproblem.
Cade:Doyouthinkyoushouldstillbeteachingthisclosetoyourduedate?
Willa:Tomyknowledge,showingpeoplehowtoplaytheguitarhasnotbeenknowntostimulatelabor.
Cade:Don’tbeasmart-ass.
Willa:I’mpregnant.Notdisabled.
Cade:Notfunny.
Willa:Neitherisyourbreedingkink.Buthereweare.
Cade:Callmeifsomethinghappens.
Willa:Areyouignoringmyjoke?
Cade:Idon’twanttomissthebirthofmychild.
Willa:IthinkaftermylessonsI’llgivetheyardablowjob.
Cade:You’reinsane.ButIloveyou.
Willa:Loveyoutoo.
***
“Whichonesarebetter?”IaskLukefromacrossthekitchenislandwithawince.I’vebeenhavingBraxton-Hicksfakefuckingcontractionsfordaysandhavebeenbakingcookiestobusymyself.Thebabykickstheshitoutofmenon-stop,andIfeellikeabeachedwhale.Whoeversaidpregnancyisbeautifulcandieafierydeath,asfarasI’mconcerned.
Inrecentdays,I’vegonefromexcitedtowishingIcouldissueanevictionnotice.
Lukeiswhat’skeepingmesanerightnow.Lukeistheonewhomakesmesmile.Theminutehejumpedofftheschoolbus,wewaddleduptothehouseandIpulledouttwoplatesofcookies.
Hecurrentlyhaswhitechocolatemacadamiainonehandandpeanutbuttersmartiesintheotherandistakingalternatingnibbleslikehe’satruecookieconnoisseur.
AndIsupposeaftertheselastcoupleofdays,heis.We’vebeendoinganawfullotofteethbrushingtocompensateforthesugarintake.
Hiseyesclose,andheholdsonefingerupdramatically.Ican’thelpbutlaughathim.“Smarties,”heannounces.
“Yeah.Thinkyou’reright.”IgroanasIhaulmyselfontothestoolnexttohimandtakeabiteofone.
“Hey,Willa,”hesays,turningmyway.
“Hey,Luke.”Iwinkathim.
“CanIaskyousomething?”
“Always.”
Hiswideblueeyestakeonanuncertainexpression,andhislipspresstogether.“Whatisthebabygoingtocallyou?”
“Well,babiesdon’ttalk,Luke,soIimaginethey’lljustbabblealotofrandomshit.”
Hegivesmeascoffandalittleeyeroll,lookinglikeadeadringerforhisdadwhenhedoes.“Imeantoncetheycantalk.Willtheycallyoumom?”
MyeyestraveloverhisfaceasIchew.Ihaven’tevenknownhimforayearandstillfindmyselfmarvelingathowmuchhe’schanged.“Iimagineso,yes.”
Asighliftsandthendropshissmallshouldersasheglancesdownathiscookie.“Doyouthink…”Hepeersbackupatmenow.“DoyouthinkitwouldbeokayifIcalledyoumomtoo?”
I’mfartoohormonalforthisconversationrightnowandblinkfuriouslydownatthelittleboywho’sgazingupatmewiththewidest,sweetesteyes.“Mydude,youcancallmewhateveryouwant.IknowI’mnotactuallyyourmom,butIloveyoulikeone.DidyouknowIfellinlovewithyoubeforeIfellinlovewithyourdad?”
Hiseyeslightatthat.“Youdid?”
Inod,pullinghimclosewithanarmaroundhisshoulders.“Idid.”
Hisarmswraparoundmymiddle,orwhat’sleftofit.IfeellikeI’mjustboobsandbellyatthispoint.“Iloveyoutoo,Willa.EventhoughIthinkyoupeedyourpants.”
Myheadshootsdowntofollowwherehe’slooking.“Alright.It’stimetocallyourdad.”
***
Summer:Areyouclose?IcalledWilla’sparents.They’rebookingflightsbacknow.
Cade:Fiveminutesout.Everythingokay?
Harvey:Oh,good.We’reallherewaiting.Everythingisfine.
Cade:All?No.Youallneedtoleave.
Jasper:I’monmyway.
Cade:Whyismychild’sbirthpartofagrouptext?
Summer:Becausewe’reexcited!
Violet:Soexcited!Sendpictures!
Rhett:Afterthough.Notduring.Idon’tneedtoknowWillathatwell.
Summer:RhettEaton.Iknowyouarenottextinganddrivingwiththedaddy-to-beinyourcar.
Cade:Heis.
Rhett:Redlight,Princess.AndwhyareyouonlyworriedaboutCadeandnotme?
Summer:TODAYISN’TABOUTYOU.
Harvey:Y’allkidsgivemeaduckingheadache.
Cade:Rhettgivesmeaheadache.Specifically.
Summer:Ijustwannaknowwhatyou’renamingthebaby.Andifthey’reaboyoragirl.Andwhotheylookmorelike.OMGI’MSOEXCITEDTOBETHECOOLAUNT.
Cade:Justgothere.Noweveryonefuckoff.
***
Cadeburststhroughthedoorofthehospitalroomlookinglikehe’sreadyforafight.Ialmostlaughatthefierceexpressiononhisfaceasherushestomyside.Withthetraumaofhismom’sdeath,Iknowthishasbeenanxiety-inducingforhim.
We’vetalkedaboutheralot.IsabelleEmmaEaton.Thewomanwiththebeautifulblueeyeswhowouldmakewishesdownthewellwithhimasachild.
“Red,”hebreathes,pullingmecloseandsmellingofpinetreesandsweat.Themanliestcombination.
Hecamestraightfromthefields.HarveydrovemetothehospitalandRhettgotonaquadbiketogofindCade.I’vebeenplayingitcool,buthavinghimhereeasesmynerves.
“Howareyou?IcameasfastasIcould.”Hisbroadpalmstrokesthebackofmyheadandmyeyesfluttershut.Ilovewhenhedoesthat.
“Betternow,”Isayashekissesmyforehead.
“Everyoneisinthewaitingroom.Itoldthemtoleave.”
Ichucklebutacontractionhitsmehard.IgripCade’shandanddomybesttobreathethroughitbutmakesomesortofinsanebrayingnoise.
Hecontinuesstrokingmyhairandlettingmesqueezehishandhardenoughtobreakit.Wewalk.Ibounceonaball.Isitinabath.AndwhenIlookupatCadeandsay,“I’msorryifthemagicisgoneafterthis,”hereplieswith,“It’sokay,I’velivedthroughalotofcalvingseasons.”
Myhystericallaughterbleedsintoacontraction,longerandstrongerthananyoftheothers,andwhenitfinallyfinishesandhe’shelpingmeintobed,Isaytohim,“Iknowyoudidn’tjustcomparemetoacow.”
“Iwouldnever,”hesayswithachuckle.AndasmuchasIwanttopunchhiminthefaceforthatjoke,Ialsowanttohughim.
Thisman,whomeremonthsagoseemedsocoldandunhappy,hasturnedmyworldupsidedownandmademevaluemylifedifferently.Inasimplerway,aquieterway.Awaythatfitsmeratherthaneveryoneelsearoundme.
Butmorethanthat,hegavemeasenseofsatisfactioninmyselfthatIhaveneverexperienced.AsenseofprideandbelongingthatIneversawuntilheopenedmyeyesandshowedme.
EverythingaboutCadeEatonhasbeenacurveballfromdayone.Nothinghappenedinthe“right”order,butthathasneverbeenthecaseforhim,orforme.
Somaybethisorderisjustperfectforus.
Ilosemyconsciousnessinaseaofsoftwhispers,hardsqueezes,andmind-bendingpain.ThereareseveralmomentswhereIseriouslyregretrefusinganepidural.
ButwithCadehere,I’mfocused.Hegroundsme.Andwhenit’stimetopush,hewhispersinmyearabouthowmuchhelovesme.
AndIdon’tjustknowit,Ifeelit.
Ourlittlegirl,EmmaEaton,comesintotheworldhealthy.Kickingandscreamingandsurroundedbysomuchlovethattearstrailfreelydownourcheeks.Shealsocomesintotheworldwithabigsoftyofadadwrappedaroundhertinyfinger.
SomanythingsIneverknewIwantedarerighthereinthisroom.Thenursesplacehertinybodyonmychest,andIstaredownatherinwonder.
Lighteyes.Darkhair.She’sus.
“She’sperfect,”Iwhisper.
“Bothmygirlsare,”iswhatCadesaysashecrawlsontothebedbesidemeandholdsusboth.
WestareatherforIdon’tknowhowlong.Entranced.Happy.AndwhenLukecomesintojoinus—complete.
***
WanttoseetheenigmaticNHLhockeyplayer,JasperGervais,fallhardforthegirlwho’slovedhimforyears?Keepreadingforasneakpeek!
Pre-orderPowerlesshere
ItchingformoreCadeandWilla?TakeasneakpeekintotheirfamilyHalloweenparty,completewithasuperswoonyproposal!SignupforElsie’snewsletterandhavetheexclusivecontentdeliveredstraighttoyourinbox!
Clickheretosignup
HaveyoureadRhettandSummer’stension-filledromance?Abullriderandhisagent’sdaughtergoontheroad…andthere’sonlyonebed.
ReadFlawlesstodayPowerlessSneakPeek
Prologue&ChapterOne
Prologue–
Sloane
MycardoorisopenbeforemyparentshaveevenputtheBentleyinpark.Myfeethitthegraveldrivewaybeforethey’veevengottenoutofthecar.MyarmsarewrappedaroundmycousinVioletbeforethey’veevenhadachancetosayhellotomyuncleHarvey.
“Imissedyou!”IsquealasVioletpullsawayandgrinsmischievouslyatme
“Imissedyoutoo.”
Icatchmymomlookingatus,happyandsadallatonce.Ilooklikemymom,andVioletlookslikehers.ExceptViolet’smomdied,andmymomlosthersister.Ialwaysthinkshelikesbringingmeoutherebecauseshefeelsclosetohersister.
ItalsomakesitmoreconvenientformyparentstotraveltotheirfavoritespotsinEurope.Mydadsaidsomethingaboutitbeinggoodformeto“seehowtheotherhalflives.”I’mnottotallysurewhatthatmeans,butIsawmymom’slipsclampdownoneachotherwhenhesaidit.
Eitherway,InevercomplainbecauseafullmonthatWishingWellRanchwiththeEatonfamilymeansIgettohangoutandhavefunwithmycousins.Therulesarelax.Thecurfewsdon’texist.AndIgettorunwildforfourfullweekseverysummer.
“Robert,Cordelia.”UncleHarveyreachesforwardtoshakemydad’shandbeforegivingmymomatightsqueeze.Onethatleavesherblinkingalittletooquicklyasshelooksoutovertheflatfarmfieldsandjaggedmountainsbehindthem.“Nicetoseeyouboth.”
Theystarttalkingaboutboringadultstuff,butIdon’thearthem,becausemyothercousinswalkoutofthebigranchhouse.Cade,Beau,andRhettjogdownthefrontstairs,jokingandshovingandroaminglikeapack.
Andthen,they’refollowedbyonemoreboy.OneIdon’trecognize.Onethatimmediatelyhasmyattention.Onewithlong,lankylimbs,caramel-coloredhairandthebluesteyesI’veeverseen.
ThesaddesteyesI’veeverseen.
Whenthatboyslideshisgazeovertome,there’snothingbutcuriosityonhisface.Ijerkmyheadawayallthesame,feelinghotsplotchespopuponmycheeks.
Mymommovesbesideme,pattingmeonthehead.“Sloane,youneedtorememberyoursunscreen.Youalreadylooktoohot,andyouspendsomuchtimeinthedancestudio,yourskinisn’tusedtothiskindofexposure.”
Herfussingonmeonlymakesmeblushharder.I’malmostelevenandshe’smakingmefeellikealittlekidinfrontofeveryone.
Igivemyeyesapetulantrollandmumble,“Iknow.Iwill,”beforetakingViolet’shandandstormingoff.
Wegoinsideanduptomyguestroom,lookingforsomeprivacywhileeveryoneelsestandsaroundoutsideandmakessmalltalk.
Violetflopsonthemattressandannounces,“Tellmeeverything.”
Igiggleandpushmyhairbehindmyears,drawntothewindowthatoverlooksthedriveway.“Aboutwhat?”
“School?Thecity?Whatyouwannadothissummer?Just…everything.I’msohappythere’sagirlhere.Thisplacestinkslikeboysallthetime.”
Outthewindow,Iseethemysteryboyshakinghandswithmyparents.Inotethedistasteonmyfather’sface.Thepityonmymother’s.
“Who’stheotherguy?”Iask,unabletolookaway.
“Oh.”Violet’svoicegetsalittlequiet.“That’sJasper.He’soneofusnow.”
Iturntoher,eyebrowquirked,handsonmyhips,tryingtoplayitcool,likeI’mnottoointerested,butnotreallyknowinghowtoachievethateither.“Whatdoyoumean?”
Sherollsuptositcross-leggedonthebedandshrugs.“Heneededafamily,sowetookhimin.Idon’tknowallthedetails.Therewasanaccident.Beaubroughthimhereonedaylastfall.Iliketothinkofhimasonemorestinkybrother.Youcanjustthinkofhimlikeanewcousin.”
Myheadcantsasmyheartbattleswithmybrain.Myheartwantstostareoutthewindowagain,becauseJasperissocuteandlookingathimmakesitdothisweirdlittleskippingthinginmychest
Mybrainknowsit’sstupid,becauseifhe’sfriendswithBeau,hemustbeatleastfifteen.
ButIcan’tstopmyself.
Ilookanyway.
WhatIdon’trealizeisthatI’llbefightingtheurgetostareatJasperGervaisforyearstocome.
ChapterOne-Jasper
SloaneWinthrop’sfiancéisaroyaldouchebag.
I’mfamiliarwiththetype.Youdon’tworkyourwayintotheNHLwithoutencounteringyourfairshare.
Andthisguyhastheactdownpat.
AsifthenameSterlingWoodcockwasn’tenoughofagiveaway,he’snowbraggingaboutthehuntingtripheandhisdadspenthundredsofthousandsofdollarsontokilllionsbornandbredincaptivity,likethatwillsomehowmaketheirdicksbigger.
FromtheRolexonhiswristtohismanicurednails,he’spracticallydrippingwealth,andIguessitonlymakessensethatSloanemightendupwithamanlikehim.Afterall,theWinthropsareoneofthemostpowerfulfamiliesinthecountrywithwhatisdamnnearamonopolyonthetelecommunicationsindustry.
Asherambles,IglanceatSloaneacrossthetable.Hersky-blueeyesaredowncast,andshe’sclearlyfiddlingwiththenapkininherlap.Shelookslikeshe’dratherbeanywherebuthereinthisdimlylit,ornatesteakhouse.
AndIfeelaboutthesame.
Listeningtohersmall-dickedfuturehusbandboasttoatablefulloffamilyandfriendsI’venevermetaboutsomethingthatishonestlyembarrassing—andsad—isn’thowI’dchoosetospendanightoff.
ButI’mhereforSloane,andthat’swhatIkeeptellingmyself.
Becauseseeingherrightnow,lookingdowntroddenmerenightsbeforeherwedding…itfeelslikesheneedssomeoneherewhoactuallyknowsher.
Iexpectedhertobesmiling.Glowing.Iexpectedtofeelhappyforher—butIdon’t.
“Youhunt,Jasper?”Sterlingasks,lookingallpoisedandpretentious.
Thecollarofmycheckereddressshirtimmediatelyfeelslikeit’sstranglingme,eventhoughthetopbuttonsareundone.Iclearmythroatandrollmyshouldersback.“Ido.”
Sterlingpicksupthecrystaltumblerbeforehimandleansbacktoassessmewithasmugsmirkonhisperfectlyshavedface.“Anybiggame?You’denjoyatriplikethis.”Peoplewhodon’tknowmenodandmurmurtheirassent.
“Idon’tknowif—”Sloanestarts,butherfiancésteamrollsherattemptataddinganythingtotheconversation.
“Weallsawwhatyourlastcontractcameinat,soprovidedyou’vebeenresponsiblewithyourmoney,it’sdefinitelysomethingyoushouldbeabletoafford.”
LikeIsaid:douchebag.
Ibitetheinsideofmycheek,temptedtosayI’vebeenhorriblyirresponsiblewithmymoneyanddon’thaveadollartomyname.Butaslowbrowasmyupbringingmighthavebeen,Ihaveenoughclasstoknowthatfinancesaren’tpolitedinnerconversation.
“Nah,man.IonlyhuntwhatIcaneatandI’munfamiliarwithhowtocookalion.”
Afewchucklesbreakoutaroundthetable,includingfromSloane.Idon’tmissthequickmomentwhereSterling’seyesnarrow,wherehisteethclamp,andhisjawpops.
Sloanejumpsinquickly,pattinghisarmlikehe’sadogwhoneedssoothing.“IusedtohuntwithmycousinsoutinChestnutSpringstoo,youknow?”
I’mtossedbackintime,rememberingayoungSloanekeepingupwiththeboysallsummer.Sloanewithdirtunderhernails,scrapesonherknees,sun-bleachedhairalltangledandfreedownherback.
“It’smoreaboutthethrill,youknow?Thepower.”SterlingignoresSloane’scommententirely.
Helooksatmelikeanopponent,exceptwearen’tplayinghockeyrightnow.Ifwewere,I’dbetemptedtogivehimaquickblockershottotheface.
“DidyounothearwhatSloanejustsaid?”I’mtryingtobecool,butIhatethewayhe’streatedherthroughthisentiredinner.
Sterlingwavesahandandchuckles.“Ahyes.I’malwayshearingaboutWishingWellRanch.”Heturnstoherwithacondescendingtoneandamockingsmirk.“Well,thankgoodnessyououtgrewwhatevertomboyphaseyouwentthrough,babe.You’dhavemissedyourcallingasaballerina.”
Hisshittyresponseisonlymadeworsebymyrealizationthatheheardexactlywhatshesaidandchosetoignoreher.
“Ican’tevenimagineyouhandlingagun,Sloane!”oneguyfurtherdownthelongtableexclaims,hisnoseadeepredfromfartoomuchscotch.
“Iwasprettygood,actually.IthinkIonlyhitsomethingaliveonce.”Shelaughslightlyandshakesherhead,brightblondestrandsofhairslippingdowninfrontofherfacebeforeshepushesthembackbehindherearsanddropshereyeswithafaintblush.“AndthenIcriedinconsolably.”
“Irememberthatday.”Iglanceacrossthetableather.“Youcouldn’teveneatthevenisonfordinnerthatnight.Wealltriedtoconsoleyou—itdidn’twork.”Myheadshakesatthevividwalkdownmemorylane.
“Andthatrightthere”—SterlingpointsatSloanewithoutevenlookingather—“iswhywomendon’tbelongouthunting.Tooupsetting.”
Sterling’sovergrownfratbuddiesguffawathislamecomment,whichurgeshimtogoallinonhisassholery.Heholdshisglassuphighandlooksdownthetable.“Tokeepingwomeninthekitchen!”
There’slaughterandasmatteringofpeopleoffering“cheers”and“herehere.”
Sloanedabsthewhiteclothnapkinoverherfulllipswithaprimsmilebutkeepshereyesfixedontheemptyplacesettingbeforeher.Sterlinggoesbacktogloatingwiththeotherguests—ignoringthewomansittingbesidehim.
Ignoringthepieceofherselfshejusttriedtosharewithhim.Ignoringthewayhejustembarrassedher.
Mypatienceforthisnightisquicklydwindling.Theurgetoslinkintothebackgroundisoverwhelming.
Sloanecatchesmyeyeacrossthetableandgivesmeoneofherpracticedsmiles.Iknowit’sfakebecauseI’veseenherrealsmile.
Andthisisn’tit.
It’sthesamesmileshegavemewhenItoldherIcouldn’tgotopromwithherasherdate.Takingatwenty-three-year-oldNHLplayerwasn’tappropriateforeitherofus,andIwastheassholewhohadtotellherthat.
Ismileback,feelingfrustrationbuildinsidemeoverthefactshe’sabouttotieherselftosomeonewhotreatsherlikeanaccessory,whodoesn’tlistentoher.Orappreciatethatshe’slayeredandcomplex,andnotjustthepolishedprincessshe’sbeenmoldedintobyherfamily.
Sterlingcatchestheexchangeandturnshisattentiontomeonceagain.Itmakesmyskincrawl.“Sloanetellsmeyou’vebeenfriendsforalongtime.Pardonmyconfusion,butagruffhockeyplayerdoesn’tseemlikehe’dbefriendswithaballerina.Ofcourse,Ihaven’tseenyouaroundmuchsinceherandIgottogether.Somethingkeepingyouaway?”HedrapesanarmoverhershoulderinashowofpossessionandItrynottofixateonthegesture.
“Tobefair,Ihaven’theardmuchaboutyoueither.”Isayitwithenoughhumorinmytonethatanyonemissingthewaywe’reglaringmightnotevenpickuponthejab.Ileanback,crossingmyarmsovermychest.“Butyeah.IguessI’mnottoogrufftobringoverPolysporinandpainkillerswhenmyfriend’sfeetaretoorawfromdancinginpointeshoestoevenwalk.”
“I’vetoldyouthis.”Sloane’svoiceisplacating.“Hehelpedmemoveintomynewcondo.Sometimeswegrabcoffee.Simplelittlethingslikethat.”
“Basically,sheknowsifsheneedssomething,I’llbethere,”Iadd,withoutthinking.
Sloaneshootsmealook,probablywonderingwhyI’mactinglikeaterritorialasshole.I’mwonderingthesamething,tobehonest.
“Goodthingyou’vegotmeforallthatnow.”SterlingisrespondingtoSloane,buthe’sstaringatme.ThenhesuddenlyplacesapalmoverSloane’shandsinherlap.Theonesstillpullingathernapkinanxiously.Butthewayhetouchesherisn’tsoothingorsupportive.It’saswat,areproachforfidgeting.
Itsendsfuryracingthroughmyveins.IneedtogetawaybeforeIdosomethingI’llreallyregret.
“Well,I’mgoingtoheadoutforthenight,”Iannouncesuddenly,pushingmychairback,desperateforfreshairandabreakfromthedarkwallsandvelvetdraperypressinginaroundme.
“Bettergetagoodsleepin,Gervais.You’llneedittogetthingsrollingfortheGrizzliesthisseason.Afterlastseason,you’reprobablyonthinice.”
Ipullatthecuffsofmyshirtandforcemyselftoignorethejab.“Thankyouforinvitingme,Woodcock.Dinnerwasdelicious.”
“Sloaneinvitedyou,”ishispetulantreply,clarifyingthathedoesnotlikeme—ormypresence.
Istaredownathimblanklyandhitchonesideofmymouthup.LikeIcan’tquitebelievewhataragingprickheis.Icanfeeleyesonusnow,otherpeoplepickinguponwhateverunspokentensionisbetweenus.“Well,that’swhatfriendsarefor.”
“Wait,butyou’rehercousin,right?”Thedrunkguy’sscotchspillsovertherimofhistumblerandontohishandashepointsatme.
Idon’tknowwhySloaneandIhavealwaysbeensoadamantthatwe’refriendsandnotcousins.IfsomeonetriedtotellmethatBeau,orRhett,OrCadewasn’tmybrother,I’dwritethemoffimmediately.Thosemenaremybrothers.
ButSloane?She’smyfriend.
“Actually,he’smyfriend,notmycousin.”Sloanetosseshernapkinonthetopofthewhitelinen-coveredtablewithmoreforcethannecessary.
Thepeoplegatheredforherweddingstare.
Herweddingthisweekend
Mystomachtwists.
“Yougonnabeatthestagpartytomorrow,Gervais?”thedrunkguycontinues.Hehiccupsandgrinsstupidly,remindingmeofthedrunkmouseattheMadHatter’sunbirthdayparty.“WouldlovetosayIpartiedwithhockey-superstarJasperGervais.”
Colormesurprisedthattheonlyreasonaguylikethiswantsmearoundistoboosthisperception.
“Can’t.I’vegotagame.”Mysmileistight,butmyreliefisimmenseasIrisefrommychair.
“I’llwalkyouout,”Sloanepipesup,clearlymissingthesharplookSterlingslicesherway.Ormaybeshe’sjustpretendingshedoesn’tnotice.
Eitherway,IholdonehandopenandgestureSloaneaheadofmeaswebegintoweaveourwaysilentlyacrosstherestaurant.
Igotopressmypalmagainstthesmallofherbacktoguideherthrough,butshetenses,andIjerkmyhandawayatthefeelofsmoothbareskinburningmyfingertips.MyeyesfindthefloorasIshovethetinglinghandintomypocket,whereitbelongs.
Becauseitsureasshitdoesn’tbelongonthebarebackofanengagedwoman.
Evenifsheisjustmyfriend.
It’sonlyaswenearthefrontoftherestaurantthatIlookupagain.Sloane’sslenderframeswaysasshestridesacrosstheroom.Everymovementsteepedinaninherentgrace—onethatcomeswithyearsoftraining.Yearsofpractice.
Shesmilespolitelyatthema?tred’andthenwalksfaster,likeshecanseefreedomthroughthatheavyfrontdoorandisdesperateforit.Hershouldersdropandshepauses,almostinrelief,whensherestsbothhandsflatagainstthedarkslabofwood.
IwatchherforamomentbeforeIstepupbehindher,theheatofherbodyreachingouttowardmine.ThenIreachonearmaboveherpetiteframeandpushthedooropen,usheringusbothoutintothecoolNovembernight.
IjambothhandsintothepocketsofmyslacksnowsoIdon’tgrabhershouldersandshakeher,demandingtoknowwhatthehellshe’sdoingmarryingaguywhotreatsherlikeSterlingWoodcockdoes.Becauseit’sreallynoneofmybusiness.
Hertoned,barebackistomeasshefacesthebusycitystreet,carlightsablurofwhiteandredjustbeyondher,mistyairpuffingoverhershoulderlikeshe’stryingtocatchherbreath.
“Youokay?”
HerheadnodsfuriouslybeforesheturnsbackaroundwiththatweirdStepfordwifesmileplasteredbackonherdaintyface.
“Youdon’tlookfine.”Myfingerswraparoundthekeysinmypocketandjanglethemanxiously.
“Shit,thanks,Jas.”
“Imean,youlookbeautiful,”Irushout,grimacingwhenInotehereyeswidening.“Youalwaysdo.Youjustdon’tlook…happy?”
Sheblinksslowly,theedgesofhermouthturningdownintoaslightfrown.“Isthatsupposedtobebetter?Beautifulandunhappy?”
God.I’mreallyblowingit.Irakeahandthroughmyhair.“Areyouhappy?Doeshemakeyouhappy?”
Hermouthpopsopeninshock,andIknowI’moutofline,orsteppinginit,orwhatever.Butsomeoneneedstoaskher,andIdoubtanyonehas.
Ineedtohearhersayit.
Herpalecheeksflushandhereyesnarrowasshestepsuptome,jawtight.“You’reaskingmethisnow?”
Ihuffoutabreathandrunmytopteethalmostpainfullyovermybottomlip,eyestotallyfixedonherbabyblues,sowideandpaleandsparkingwithindignation.“Yeah.Hasanyoneelseaskedyou?”
Shedropsmygaze,herhandsplantingagainsthercheeksbeforepushingbackthroughhercollarbone-lengthblondehair.“Noonehasaskedme.”
Theteethofmycarkeydigintothepalmofmyhand.“HowdidyoumeetSterling?”
“Mydadintroducedus.”Hereyesfixateontheblacksky.It’sstarless,notlikeattheranchwhereyoucanseeeverylittlefleckoflight.EverythinginthecityfeelspollutedcomparedtoChestnutSprings.IdecideonthespottodriveouttomyplaceinthecountrytonightratherthanspendanothernightbreathingthesameairasSterlingWoodcock.
“Howdoesheknowhim?”
Hereyesmeetmine.“Sterling’sdadisanewbusinesspartnerofhis.He’sfocusedonmakingnewconnectionsnowthathe’sbackinthecity.”
“Andyou’veknownthisguyforhowlongagain?”
Hertonguedartsoutfrombetweenherlips.“WemetinMay.”
“Fivemonths?”MybrowarchesandIrearback.IftheyseemedmadlyinloveIcouldbuyit,but…
“Don’tjudgeme,Jasper!”Hereyesflashandshestepscloseragain.Imaydwarfherinheight,butshe’snottheleastbitintimidated.She’sspittingmadrightnow.Madatme.ButIthinkthat’sjustbecauseshetrustsmeenoughtoletherangerout,andI’mokaywithlettingher.I’mhappytobethatpersonforher.
Hervoiceshakeswhensheadds,“YouhavenoideathepressuresIlivewith.”
Withoutthinkingtwice,Ipullherintomychestandwrapmyarmsaroundhernarrowshoulders.She’salltenseandriled.IswearIcanalmostfeelhervibratingwithit.“I’mnotjudgingyou,Sunny.”
Apparently,thisisn’tthetimeforchildhoodnicknames.
“Don’tcallmethat.”Hervoicecracksasshepressesherforeheadtomychest,likeshealwayshas,andIslidemypalmdownthebackofherhair,cuppingthebaseofherskull.
LikeIalwayshave.
IabsentlywonderwhatSterlingwouldsayifhewalkedouthererightnow.There’sapettypartofmethatwantshimto.
“I’mjustcurioushowthingshappenedsofast.I’mcuriouswhyI’venevermethimuntilnow.”Myvoiceisquiet,allgravel,almostdrownedoutbythehushofcarsrushingpastus.
“Well,it’snotlikeIhavealotoffreetimewiththeballet.Andit’snotlikeyou’vebeenintouchlatelyeither.”
Guiltnipsatme,makingmychesttwist.Ourteamcameoffabadseason,andIpromisedmyselfI’dtrainharderthanIeverhaveduringtheoff-season.“IwastrainingandlivingoutinChestnutSprings.”That’snotalie.Mybrother’sfiancéopenedahellofagymthere,andIsawnoreasontospendmysummerinthecity.“Andthenitwastrainingcamp,andIgotsweptup.”
Alsotrue.
ThelieisthatIwastoobusytomaketimeforher.Icouldhavemadetimeforher.ButIdidn’t.BecauseIknewherdadwasbackinthecity,andIavoidhimatallcosts.
“Ishouldhavetoldyou,”shemurmurs.
Iswoopahandoverherheadandgivehershouldersasqueeze,stilltryingtoavoidthatwarm,barepatchofskinonherback,andreplywith,“Ishouldhaveasked.I’vejustbeen…busy.Ididn’tthinkyourlifewouldjust…happenthisfast.”Andthatpartistrue.Herengagementblindsidedme
Herbodyrelaxesinmyarms,softbreastspressingagainstmyribsasherfingersdigintomyback.Butonlyforamomentbeforeshepullsaway.Thehugwentonlongenoughthatitwasmoreofanembrace.Itwastoeingtheline.
ButIstillfindmyselfwantingtopullherbackin.
“Well,itis.”Shelooksdownandbrushesatthesleeveofherpalegreendress,silkyandshimmeringinthedarklight.“MydadandIagreeditwasbesttomoveforwardwiththeweddinginthefallratherthandrawingitout.”
Thatcommenthasmyteethclampingdown,becausethemerementionofRobertWinthropsetsmeonedge.Andhimtakingpartinherdecisiontogetmarriedhasallsortsofalarmbellsgoingoff.
“Why?”Mybrowknits.Ishouldknowbetter.Ishouldwalkaway.Ishouldletherbehappy.
Ishouldn’tbethisbothered.Maybeifsheactuallyseemedhappy.Iwouldn’tbe.
OrmaybeIwould.
Shewavesahandandglancesoverhershoulderintotherestaurant,exposingherelegantneckasshedoes.“Multiplefactors,”shereplieswithadefeatedshrug.It’slikesheknowshertimewithmeisdwindling.Idon’tgetthesensethatSterlingisgoingtobethetypeofhusbandthat’sokaywithherandIbeingfriends.
“Factors?Likeyoujustcan’twaittobeMrs.Woodcock?Becausenoonewantsthatasalastname.Oristhisyourdadpressuringyou?”
Herblueeyesflareatthementionofherdad,becauseSloanedoesn’tseehimasasnake.Neverhas.She’stoobusybeingtheperfectdaughter—andnowfiancée.Onewholooksgoodonpaperanddoesn’tgohunting.“Andwhatifheis?I’mtwenty-eight.Mybestdancingyearsaredrawingtoaclose.Ineedtosettledown,comeupwithalifeplan.He’slookingoutforme.”
Ihuffoutanagitatedlaughandshakemyheadather.Where’sthewildgirlIremember?ThegirlwhodancedintherainandwouldcrawlontotheroofsoIdidn’thavetobealoneonthebadnights?
Thatgirlhasbeenmoldedintoapawn.AndIhatethatforher.We’veneverfought,butsuddenlymyurgetofightforherconsumesmybetterjudgement.
“Yourdadisanasshole.Hecaresabouthimself.Hisbusiness.Optics.Notyourhappiness.”
ShelurchesbacklikeI’vestruckher,lipsthinninginangerassheflushesallthewaydownherchest.“No,Jasper.Yourdadisasanasshole.Minelovesme.Youjustdon’tknowwhatthatlookslike.”
Shespinsonherheel,yankingtherestaurantdooropenwithalevelofviolencethatdoesn’tsuitsomeonesodelicatelooking.
ButI’drathersheshowviolencethanapathy.Thatmeansthewildgirlisstillintheresomewhere.
Shehurledwordsatmethatshouldhurt.ButIjusthurtforher.Becausemybiologicaldadisanasshole.Butthemanwhoreallyraisedme?HarveyEaton?He’sthebestofthebest.Heshowedmewhatlovelookslike,andIcanidentifyitjustfine.
Plus,IrememberhowSloanelooksatamanwhenshereallywantshim.Andsheisn’tlookingatherfiancéthewaysheusedtolookatme.
I’mmorepleasedaboutthatthanIshouldbe.
***
Pre-orderPowerlesstoday!Don’tmissFlawlessRhettandSummer’sstoryisnowanAmazon#1Bestseller!
Therulesweresimple.Keepmyhandsoffhisdaughterandstayoutoftrouble.
ButnowI’mstuckwithher.There’sonlyonebed.Andwell,rulesaremadetobebroken.
I’mthefaceofprofessionalbullriding—thegoldenboy.OratleastIwas,untilitallblewupinmyface.NowmyagentsaysIhavetocleanupmyimage,soI’mstuckwithhisball-bustingdaughterfortherestoftheseasonasmy“full-timesupervision.”
ButIdon’tneedagoddamnbabysitter,especiallyonewithskin-tightjeans,asexysmirk,andamouthshecan’tstoprunning.
AmouthIcan’tstopthinkingabout.
BecauseSummerisn’tjustanotherconquest.Sheseesthemanbehindthemask,andshedoesn’trun—shepullsmecloser,evenwhensheshouldn’t.
Shesaysthismeansnothing.
Isaythismeanseverything.
Shesaysthereareboundariesweshouldn’tcross.Thatmyreputationcan’ttakeanymorehits—andneithercanherdamagedheart.
IsayI’mgoingtostealitanyway.
ReadFlawlesstoday!BooksbyElsieSilver
TheGoldRushRanchSeries
Bingethecompleteseriestoday!
OutoftheGate-Jointhemailinglistandgetitfree!
OfftotheRaces
APhotoFinish
TheFrontRunner
AFalseStartAcknowledgments
Ithinkthatwritingabookaboutalittleboythesameageasmyownwillalwaysholdaspecialplaceinmyheart.Thecountlessnotesinmyphoneabouthilariousthingshe’ssaidoverthepastseveralmonthswillcertainlybekeptforyearstocome.
Andyes,hedidinfactjumpouttoscaremeandyell,“Chipmunks!”Andno,Ihavenoideawhatwasgoingthroughhishead.Butitwasjustpricelessenoughtobebookworthy.
Tomyreaders,thankyou.You’veallchangedmylife.NoneofthiswouldbepossiblewithoutYOU.Sothankyouforspendingyourpreciousfreetimereadingmystories.Forlovingthem,forsharingthem,forblowingupmyinboxwithyoursweetmessages.Iloveyouall.
Tomyhusband,I’mwritingthisexactlythreedaysbeforeweleaveforour“honeymoon.”Wesaidwe’dfinallytakeahoneymoonwhenwemadeittotenyears,andhereweareheadingtoSpain.Timetrulyflieswhenyou’rehavingfun.Thankyouformakingmelaugheveryday—evenwhenyoupissmeoff.
Tomyson,chipmunks,baby.Youcrackmeup.Spendingtimewithyouissuchablessing.IloveyoutotheVenusandback.
Tomyparents,y’alltoldmeIcouldbewhateverIwantedwhenIgrewup.Betyoudidn’tthinkI’dbewritingsmuttybooksforaliving,huh?
TomyassistantKrista,thankyouforlisteningtomyendlessvoicemessages.Thankyouforpettingmyhairondowndays.Andthankyouforkeepingmeorganized.Thisreleasereallyis“our”release.
ToLena,whenareyouleavingyourhusbandforme?
ToCatherine,I’mnotsurehowI’lleverrepayyouforeverythingyou’vedoneforme.Thesupport.Theadvice.Thelove.Youwillforeverbethefirst(veryexcited)callonmyphonewhenIhitnumberoneandIjustlovethatforus.
ToKandi,Idon’tthinkI’dhavefinishedthisbookontimeifitwasn’tforyourcheerleadingandearlymorningsprintsessions.TheSpicySprintSlutsmakesmylifeandcan’twaittowritemorebookswithyou.#gratitudebombs
ToMelanie,youcontinuetoinspiremewithyourgenerosity.Thankyouforyourdirectionandhelpfromtheverybeginning.IknowthatIwouldn’tbewhereIamtodaywithoutyourwisdom.
ToSarahandJennfromSocialButterfly,youbothkickass.Thankyouforyourguidanceandattention.I’msogratefultohavewomenlikeyouonmyside.
TomybetareadersJúlia,Amy,andKrista,thankyouforhelpingmemakethisbookthebestitcouldbe.Yournotesmakemelaughandyourfeedbackmakesmeabetterwriter.I’dbelostwithoutyou.
TomyeditorPaula,Idon’ttrustyourcarrots,butIdotrustyourexpertise.Obviously,youinspireme.Butyoualsoareirreplaceable.Yourinputandyourextratimespenthelpingmenevergoesunnoticed.
TomycoverdesignerCasey/Echo,whyareyousotalented?It’shonestlykindofinsane.You’restuckwithmenow.
Finally,tomyARCreadersandstreetteammembers,THANKYOU.Somanyofyouhavebeenwithmesincetheverybeginningofthiswildride.Andnowsomanyofyouarenew.Supportinganauthorinthiswaymightnotfeellikeabigdealtoyou,butit’sa*huge*dealtome.Everypost,everyTikTok,everyreviewliterallychangesmylife.Idon’tknowthatI’lleverybeabletorepayyourkindness,butIwilldomybesttopayitforwardinwhateverwayIcan.TheElsieSilverSaloon
ComehangoutinTheSaloononFacebookandinteractwithElsie!Earlyannouncements,exclusiveexcerpts,bonusgiveaways,andgeneralbookboyfriendchitchatallhappenshere.
TakemetoTheSaloon!AbouttheAuthor
ElsieSilverisaCanadianauthorofsassy,sexy,smalltownromancewholovesagoodbookboyfriendandthestrongheroineswhobringthemtotheirknees.ShelivesjustoutsideofVancouver,BritishColumbiawithherhusband,son,andthreedogsandhasbeenvoraciouslyreadingromancebookssincebeforeshewasprobablysupposedto.
Shelovescookingandtryingnewfoods,traveling,andspendingtimewithherboys—especiallyoutdoors.Elsiehasalsobecomeabigfanofherquietfiveo’clockmornings,whichiswhenmostofherwritinghappens.It’sduringthistimethatshecansipacupofhotcoffeeanddreamupafictionalworldfullofromanticstoriestosharewithherreaders.
www.elsiesilver.com
Instagram
Facebook
TikTok
Twitter