Justified Love (The Southern Gentleman Series Book 1)

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Justified Love (The Southern Gentleman Series Book 1) Page 9

by Hite, Nicole


  Pointing in the opposite direction, “I can’t believe that tire swing is still there.”

  “What’s going on in that head of yours, Carr?” he asked.

  “It’s just, I can’t believe you’re here right now. Growing up, I was the loser outcast who everyone called, ‘Muffin Top Mason.' It’s nice being able to come here, and not worry about anything, “ I said meekly.

  Just then, Colt reached for my hand.

  “Carrington Mason, you are not a loser or an outcast; you are beautiful.”

  I was completely taken off guard by his candor. Don’t just sit there stupid! Say something.

  “Colt I…,” just as I was about to respond we heard a loud creaking sound. Immediately the boards begin to fold and buckle beneath us. We quickly grabbed one another as the weight of the boards gave way, sending us flying into the barn. Thankfully, we didn’t fall too far. Landing in the upper loft filled with haystacks was a miracle.

  Laying flat on our backs, we couldn’t help but laugh hysterically at the situation. As the laughter started to fade away, I was hyper-aware of the intimate setting we now found ourselves. Well, this is awkward.

  “Maybe we should head back. I’m sure everyone is wondering where we are. I don’t want your friends to think I’m taking advantage of you out here,” Colt said with a look of disappointed on his face.

  I would settle for being taken advantage of verse going back to the girls. I’m sure they would understand.

  “I guess your right. Looks like one of us needs to call a carpenter tomorrow,” I said with a look of disappointment.

  ●

  Walking back, we barely spoke to one another. What did I do? Did I say something wrong? I felt a vibe between us, or was it just me? I need to get out of here before I make a complete ass out of myself.

  Clearing the brush we stumbled onto the beach where everyone was sitting by the fire. Chuck was trying to play a song on Wyatt’s guitar, and Harley just laughed at his valiant attempt. “Let’s get it on,” Chuck sang while playing Marvin Gaye.

  “Hey, guys,” Skye sang.

  “Carr, honey, what the hell is in your hair?” Harley interrupted.

  “Is that…hay?” Wyatt asked with an evil smirk.

  My hands flew up touching every part of my head trying to find the piece. Colt reached over and picked the piece out ever so lightly. Gently placing it between his teeth, he flashed me a giant grin and a wink. He looked too damn cute right now. Well, maybe I can stay for a little while longer.

  “Yeah, that’s what I thought,” chimed Skye.

  “Anyway. Are there any marshmallows left?” I questioned.

  Throwing the bag directly into my face, I snatch it before impact.

  “Thank you,” I said with a smirk. I stared at her with pursed lips indicating that we would talk about it later. I sat on the log adjacent from Harley and Chuck, and patted a hand on the seat next to me for Colt.

  “Now, where did I put my stick?”

  “That’s what he said,” Chuck interrupted as if on cue. Erupting in laughter we couldn’t help but make light of the strange night.

  Wiping tears from our eyes, Colt handed me the stick from across the fire.

  “Need help loading up your victim?”

  “What’s that supposed to mean,” I asked with a questionable smile.

  “Oh nothing, just the last one you roasted turned into a black sticky mess. Poor thing didn’t have a chance.”

  “I beg to differ! Those ‘mallows are the best,” I responded with a giggle.

  “If you can’t handle my roasting technique, you are more than welcome to sit over there,” I said pointing to the empty log.

  “Naw, I think I’m quite comfortable where I am,” he smiled.

  Extending the marshmallow into the flame it immediately caught fire. I pulled the stick out of the flame and blew out the torch. Pulling off the marshmallow from the stick, I singed my fingers.

  “Funky butt lovin’, that’s hot,” I exclaimed.

  “Well no shit! You just tried to take a melted marshmallow off the stick without thinking it would be hot, Watson. Here, let me help you.” Taking the initiative, I handed the stick to Colt with sad puppy dog eyes. I was hoping it came across as endearing, and not annoying.

  Taking the marshmallow off the stick, I went to take it out of Colts fingers.

  “Nope. Back away, Watson. You can’t be trusted with a hot and sticky marshmallow,” he said twisting away from me.

  “Give it to me!” I squealed reaching for the marshmallow.

  “Nope,” he responded pretending to eat my marshmallow.

  “Please….” I poured on the sugar.

  “Fine, but I’ll help you,” he said in all seriousness as he twisted back toward me.

  “Open wide,” he coaxed, placing the marshmallow on my tongue. It was almost too big for my mouth. I was a gooey mess, and all Colt could do was laugh. What was supposed to be an intimate interaction, turned into something different altogether. Finally swallowing I knew I must have looked a mess. I could still feel the stickiness on my lips. Colt smoothly stretched over and brushed his thumb gently across my lip to remove excess marshmallow. Slowly and methodically, he lifted his thumb to his mouth and sucked the sugary sweetness away never removing his eyes from mine. Oh, for crying out loud!

  “Mmmm, delicious. I guess you do know what you’re doing,” Colt said with a wink. Call the police because this man is killing me.

  “Uh hummm,” interrupted our private moment.

  “Should we leave you two alone?” Wyatt asked with a smirk. I had almost forgotten we had an audience.

  “Sorry, I become a child when it comes to marshmallows. I can’t be trusted,” I said in embarrassment.

  Licking the leftover marshmallow from my fingers, I could tell Colt was staring. I didn’t want the rest of the group to feel uncomfortable, so I didn’t make eye contact with him even though I knew he was glaring at me. Knowing this, I grinned.

  “As much fun as I’m having, I am exhausted. I think it’s time to hit the road ladies,” I said with a yawn.

  Saying goodbye to Wyatt and Chuck, I gave both of them a hug.

  “I’m going to take some things to the truck while you and Skye say bye,” I said to Harley.

  “I’ll help you,” Colt volunteered.

  Packing up our chairs and bags, I left the cooler for Colt to carry.

  “Man, you guys have a lot of shit,” he strained.

  “Have you met Harley and Skye? You’re lucky they didn’t bring actual luggage.”

  “Yeah, you’re right. I should have known better,” he snickered. Dropping the last of the items in the truck, I let out a sigh. I didn’t want the night to end, but I also didn’t want to assume what I was feeling was mutual.

  Before I had a chance to retreat, Colt came around the truck and was standing in front of me. As he approached me, I found myself backing up into the door of the cab. What’s happening here?

  Looking like a little lamb corned by a lion, Colt pinned me up against the truck. Leaning into my ear, I could feel this hot breath tickling the hairs on the back of my neck. At that moment, he didn’t need to say a damn thing. He could have just breathed on me, and I would have been fine.

  “Carrington Mason,” he began as my knees started to weaken just from hearing him say my name.

  “Thank you for coming today,” he said placing a gentle kiss on my cheek.

  “Uh huh,” I gasped, not able to form a coherent sentence.

  Feeling him pull away from me, I finally exhaled the breath I had been holding.

  My heart was pounding out of my chest, and I felt drunk off his proximity. I wondered if he even knows the effect he has on me. He could have been reciting the alphabet for all I cared; it would be the sexiest alphabet I’d ever heard.

  Taking a step back, as Harley and Skye approached, “Would you like to have dinner with me tomorrow night?”

  Turning my head from side to side an
d looking around, “Me? You want to go to dinner with me?”

  “Yes. You,” he said pointing his finger at me.

  “I’ll have to check my schedule, but I’m pretty sure I’m free,” I said sarcastically.

  “Ahh yes. You are a very important person, with lots of important things to do. I remember,” he joked back.

  “Very perceptive, Sherlock.”

  “What time shall I pick you up? Eight sound good? And, no, Harley and Skye cannot come,” he said jokingly.

  “Who says I wanted them to come?” I said flirting a little.

  “They get you to themselves all the time; I just want one night,” he added.

  “Just one night?” I asked.

  “Maybe two, three, four. We’ll see how the night goes,” he joked.

  “I like your thinking.”

  “Now get out of here before I get myself into trouble.” He winked at me as he walked away.

  Oh baby. I would love to get into trouble with you.

  Hopping in the truck, I couldn’t help but grin from ear to ear like a Cheshire Cat. I can’t believe I’m going on a date with Colton Wilson. The Colton Wilson. Avery High School’s star quarterback and town sex God. Shit! Wait. What the hell am I going to wear? How will I do my hair? How much makeup should I use? I’m going to freak myself out before I even have a chance to enjoy this moment. I always read too much into things. Oh, God. I ramble when I get nervous, just like I’m doing now. How the hell, will I get through an entire night, knowing Colton, fucking, Wilson is sitting directly across from me. Maybe he has a few tricks up his sleeve? Either way, I am totally and completely fucked.

  Chapter 8

  After the girls had dropped me off, I parked the truck on the side of the house and climbed the stairs of the front porch, trying not to make a peep.

  “Your home pretty late,” Granny said startling me.

  “Jesus, Granny. You scared the shit out of me. You can’t surprise me like that. I'm likely to have a heart attack.”

  “Sorry, sweet pea. I couldn't sleep. I thought I would come out here and swing a bit.”

  “Everything O.K., Granny?” I questioned.

  “Oh yes, honey. No need to worry about me. I was just thinking about your dad and this whole farm situation. I wish I could do more, but I have nothing to give,” she said starting to tear up.

  “Let me tell you something, Granny. You do have something to give. You have an incredible heart, so full of love and compassion. You are the soul of this family. You are the one who kept us together when we could have crumbled. I know you're going to do that again so don't ever say you have nothing to give.”

  “When'd you get so wise, baby doll?”

  “I had the best teacher,” I said as a tear ran down my cheek landed on her weathered hands resting in my lap.

  “That's enough of that. I won't have you crying when I know you had a great night.”

  “How…”

  “Care Bear, I could see it all in your face. I haven't seen that much love on someone's face since your mama and daddy had you. Is the reason this Colt boy?” I couldn't help but blush.

  “I thought so. Are we going to meet this Colt?” Granny asked.

  “He’ll be here tomorrow to pick me up for our date.”

  “Ohhhh, do you know what y'all are doing yet?”

  “Not a clue. He's surprising me. I know dinner, but that’s about it.” To be honest, it wouldn't bother me if we stayed home watching paint dry, as long as I was with Colt.

  “Oh, I love surprises!” Granny exclaimed.

  Getting up from the swing, “I'm headed off to bed, unless you want me to stay up with you,” I asked turning around.

  “You don't have to do that, honey. Go ahead in and get some sleep, something tells me you'll need it tomorrow.”

  “Granny, don’t assume the worst of me,” I proclaimed.

  Leaning over I kissed Granny’s wrinkled cheek goodnight. “I love you, Granny.”

  “I love you too, Care Bear.”

  ●

  Next morning I crept into Daddy’s office leaning against the doorframe with a coffee cup in hand. Letting out an exasperated sigh, the amount of mess was indeed overwhelming. There were papers and boxes spread out throughout the room. How the hell am I going to get this in order in time? Although I've been having the most incredible time since I got home, I had to remind myself I came home for a reason - to save our farm. I just needed one document, or paper to extinguish the company’s claims. I'm one of the best defense attorneys in New York City, but then again, we weren't talking about divorced socialites but fierce farm folk, that fought to the death. Come on Carr, you got this. Think, think.

  Sitting my coffee mug down I began sifting through the papers; bills, bank statements, and final notices started to overwhelm me. Why didn't Daddy tell me how badly he needed my help? Organizing a stack of papers, I came across one of Mama’s medical bills. Reading off the totals, I was in shock - six thousand for chemotherapy, ten thousand for medications. The lists and numbers continued to grow with each bill I encountered. No wonder Daddy was having such a hard time. Gripping the papers, I swore I could smell the odor of Band-Aids and antiseptic. I hated the scent; it had always reminded me of the hospital where mama had her weekly medical treatments.

  Eventually, mama stopped taking me on our annual department store trips. It wasn’t until then when I knew it was a lot more serious then she was leading on. Daddy would put her in the car every weekend, and we’d drive the two hours to Dallas. Usually, I would sit with her while she went through chemotherapy. As a child, I didn’t mind the hospital because, I assumed everyone who went got well and went home. I didn’t stop to think that some people didn’t get better, and didn’t go home.

  On good days, mama would let me curl up in her lap while she did chemotherapy. She would read to me about Peter Pan and Wendy while taking me on an adventure with the lost boys. As I laid there listening to her soothing voice, she would stroke my hair and cuddle up close. Hospitals always smelled like Band-Aids and antiseptic, which made me nauseous even to this day. I think just my being there helped her during the treatments, but it also helped me cope. It’s when things got bad, and they did get really bad, which were the hardest to deal with.

  Sometimes when we would get back from the hospital, mama would be in the bathroom vomiting for hours. I wanted to do something, but there’s only so much a child can do. Granny would take my hand and lead me out to the cornfields. She would show me how to shuck corn in order to distract, and shield me from the harsh reality of cancer. When we would get back from our walk, mama would be waiting for us on the porch. In a way, I think she felt as if she had something to prove, or failed as a mother. The “Yeah, I may be sick, but I’m a mother first,” attitude, always got the better of her. She always took me aside to reassure me that she was fine, and she was just car sick from the long ride. As soon as Mama started to lose her hair, I knew things weren’t getting any better.

  Swinging on the swing one day, I heard voices coming from inside the house. Curling up to the screen door outside the kitchen, I heard daddy’s voice.

  “Mary Anne, you aren’t getting any better, sweetheart. Tell me what to do. Do you want to go to the hospital? I only want to do what makes you happy. I can’t be selfish about this anymore,” he pleaded.

  “Earl, I’m tired of treatments and feeling awful every day of my life. I want to enjoy the last days that I have with the people I love,” she responded in a raspy voice.

  “Whatever you want to do, darlin’. I could be selfish and tell you “no”, but I know that’s not what you want. At least at home we will be here with you.”

  Silently I stood up on the stoop and walked into the house. While Mama went upstairs to rest, I slowly approached Daddy.

  “Daddy, are we taking mama to the hospital today?”

  “Not today, sweetie,” he said with tears in his eyes.

  “But, I don’t understand,” I said with my
tiny open palms.

  “Mama has a boo-boo, Care Bear.”

  “But, can’t we just kiss her boo-boo, and make it better? That’s what Mama does for me when I’m hurt.”

  “This kind of boo-boo can’t be fixed with a kiss, peanut.”

  A week later Mama passed away in her sleep - peacefully and surrounded by Daddy, Granny and myself. In the end, Daddy and I held her hand while he told her it was ok to let go. At first, I didn’t understand. When she squeezed my hand and exhaled her final breath, it finally hit me.

 

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