One More Summer

by Burke, Dez

When my body goes completely still and I open my eyes, I find him staring at me. He breathes my name as he begins to move slowly again, “Annie.”

  Bringing him into focus is difficult. There is strain on his face from holding back. He isn’t even breathing hard, though the sheen of perspiration on his forehead shows how much effort it is taking for him to slow things down for me.

  “I can’t hold back much longer,” he says.

  Linking my arms behind his neck, I whisper to him, “It’s okay. Let go. I want to feel you cum inside me.”

  I hear the hitch in his breath as he quickens his pace. His thrusts grow choppy and I buck my hips up to meet his. His hard cock swells and then starts to pulse deep inside me.

  “Fuck!”

  He pushes in to the balls and buries his face in my throat while his body shudders in release.

  Several minutes later, we’re both still breathing raggedly. He rests his forehead against mine, his chest heaving, while his elbows are braced at my sides to support his weight.

  “I don’t want to move,” he says. “I could stay this way forever.”

  With a regretful sound, he slides out of me and rolls off. I glance over, and he is staring up at the sky with a dazed look on his face. Turning his face toward mine, he reaches out and touches my cheek with his finger.

  “Nothing has changed, Annie.”

  28

  Levi

  “If I died right now, my life would be complete,” I say to Annie. “This is about as close to heaven as life here on earth can possibly be.”

  I’m lying on my back, with Annie’s naked body sprawled across my chest. Her long blonde hair drifts down my sides.

  The warm, bright sunlight is blinding. I shut my eyes against it, enjoying the heat on my face.

  On top of me, Annie lets out a satisfied sigh. “I love it here.”

  “Me, too.”

  “Is it better than your fancy mansion back in Nashville?” She lifts her upper body up on one elbow and gazes down at me with a teasing grin.

  “Big houses, manicured lawns, and housekeepers aren’t all they’re made out to be. I’d rather be here under the Georgia sky any day.”

  “You sound a little disheartened with the music business.”

  “It’s not exactly how I pictured it to be,” I confess. “It’s more stressful than you might imagine. And lonelier too. Everything isn’t unicorns and rainbows on the road.”

  “Don’t you have your band to hang around with after the shows?”

  “Sure, and they’re a great group of guys. The only bad thing about band members is that they come and go. I’m the main act, so they’re replaceable. Or so the tour manager believes. He switches out my backup musicians and singers more than I’d like. Every time I get comfortable singing with one of my band members, they fire him and hand me another one to break in.”

  “I didn’t realize it worked that way,” she says. “It sounds a tad chaotic.”

  “And stressful. For the band members, the concert tours are exciting because they’re new. They want to live it up and party until sunrise every night. With me though, the novelty of the fast life has already worn off. After a show is over and I’ve spent the required time backstage with the fans, I’m ready to climb back on the tour bus and crash with a movie and a six-pack of beer.”

  “I’m a little surprised. I always believed the fast life was one of the main reasons you wanted to go to Nashville.”

  “No, I was always chasing the music, not the life.” I thread my fingers through her hair, enjoying the feel of the soft tendrils against my stomach. “Don’t get me wrong, I love what I do. Being up on the stage with the band and the sound of the crowd singing my songs back to me makes me feel alive. But there’s more to a musician’s life than people know. It’s mostly long, exhausting days with little time off. I’ve been away from home for months at a stretch. I’m owned by my job.”

  “You’re right, it sounds lonely,” she says. “I’m too much of a homebody to live a life on the road. I need family and friends in my life. I love going home after work to my house and my flowers.”

  “It is lonely,” I say. “Except for two of my band members, most of the people I’m around would stab me in the back in a heartbeat to get their own five minutes of fame. Country music is a downright dirty business. Sometimes I get discouraged by it all until I step back on stage. Then in a split-second I forget everything bad. For those few minutes when I’m looking out over an arena filled with thousands of people, I know it’s all worth it just to be living my dream.”

  Annie traces the tattoo running the length of my arm with her fingertips without speaking. Her body is warm and soft against mine.

  “I’m not complaining,” I continue. “Not by a long shot. I make good money and am writing my own songs. I love sharing my music with the fans. Writing music and singing it. That’s what it’s all about.”

  “With your talent, it would be a shame to waste it.”

  “Unfortunately, it seems that sharing my music means that I’m missing out on other things. Important things like time with Dad and seeing Lily grow up.”

  “You’re doing the best you can.”

  “Cole doesn’t think I am.”

  “I’m not so sure about that,” she says. “Cole is overwhelmed and desperate for help. I bet he understands more than you realize.”

  “Cole and my parents never wanted me to go to Nashville. They thought I was a crazy delusional kid with stars in my eyes. You were the only one who was always supportive of my music. You encouraged me to reach for those stars.”

  Annie closes her eyes and puts her head down on my chest.

  “I always wanted the best for you, but I never wanted you to go,” she says. “All I wanted was for you to be happy.”

  “I wanted you to be happy, too. Are you?”

  She nods against my chest. “I’m happy. I love my job and was recently promoted. I’m close to my parents and I have my friends and a house. The life I’ve made for myself is a good one. A little predictable, but solid.”

  “I’m glad,” I say. “I wish Cole could say the same. He’s falling apart. He told me the farm is in financial trouble too on top of the other issues he’s dealing with. I feel like a jerk for not dropping everything and moving back home.”

  “You can’t blame yourself. Don’t forget Cole made some bad choices too. Marrying Sheila for one. That was a whopper. You can’t fix everything for him. I know there’s nothing you wouldn’t do for your family. You’re a good son and brother.”

  “Except give up my music career and come home.” I blow out a long breath. “Dad isn’t well. I’m not sure how much longer he has.” My voice grows hoarse with emotion. “He’s not the man he used to be. He’s confused most of the time. You’ve seen him. I’m afraid that if I go back to Nashville, he’ll disappear completely. We’re on borrowed time.”

  “Or you might not be,” she says. “There’s no way to know for sure. This stage of Alzheimer’s could go on for years without him getting worse, or things could go downhill tomorrow. There’s no rhyme or reason to the disease.”

  “Only that it always progresses.”

  “Yes it does, and I’m sorry.”

  “I won’t be able to forgive myself if I miss out on the little time I have left with him. I’m being torn into pieces. When I think about how hard it was to get where I am in my career, I know that I’d be devastated to lose that as well. There’s not an easy choice here.”

  Lifting her face, Annie kisses me softly on the lips.

  “There never is. I know you’ll figure it out.”

  “What would you do if you were in my position?” I ask.

  “It’s not for me to say. It’s your life. I don’t know how it feels to have music burning me up inside. If I couldn’t be a pharmacist any longer, I would be disappointed, but I wouldn’t wither away and die. It’s not the same thing for you. You’re the only one who can make this decision.”

  “If
I come home, it’s back to a farmer’s life for me. No matter how much money I might have in the bank. I wouldn’t be able to stand by twiddling my thumbs and watch Cole kill himself trying to work the family farm by himself. I’d have to jump in to help. And I hate farming with a passion. I honest to God do. It sucks.”

  “I know,” Annie says with a giggle. “I remember how you used to come up with every excuse in the world to get out of doing your farm chores.”

  “Too bad they never worked,” I remind her. “Dad always saw straight through my excuses. One time he even threatened to take my guitar away if I didn’t get my work done. You volunteered to pitch in to help me, so I’d finish it quicker.”

  “I was just trying to find any excuse to be with you. Even shucking corn or riding around on a tractor wasn’t a chore when we were together.”

  I lift her chin up to gaze deeply into her eyes. “What about you, Annie? What do you want me to do? This whole time we’ve been talking about this situation as if it is only about my family and my career. About what I want. You should know you’re now a part of this decision too.”

  She gently brushes the hair back from my forehead and stares deep into my eyes. “No matter how many times you ask me, my answer will always be the same. I want you to be happy. Music is what lights you up on the inside. That’s the bottom line in this equation.”

  I kiss the top of her head, wrap my arms around her, and hold her closer against me. The thought of losing Annie now is unbearable to me. I can’t let my mind even consider the possibility.

  “The sun will be going down soon,” I say. “We should probably be thinking about getting dressed, packing up, and heading back toward town.”

  “Five more minutes,” she says. “After the workout we just had, I can’t move.”

  “Deal,” I say, then cock my head to one side. “Hang on. Do you hear something?” I ask, lifting my head up a few inches from the blanket.

  “What? An animal? It might be a deer running through the woods.”

  “No, more like the sound of an engine. Listen a second to see if you can hear it too.”

  After a few moments of silence, her eyes grow wide and she scrambles off me in a panic

  “Get up! Hurry! Someone’s coming up the road. Where’s my dress?”

  29

  Annie

  “Oh crap!” I say when I can’t find my panties among the containers of potato salad and boxed fried chicken.

  Levi has already stepped into his jeans and is zipping them up. He reaches for his shirt and puts it on, leaving it unbuttoned. I stare for a moment then blink to snap myself out of a daze. I can’t let myself become distracted by his muscled abs right now.

  “What are you panicking over?” he asks, chuckling at my distress.

  I slip my sundress over my head and bend over to search through the grocery bags.

  “I lost my panties,” I say. “I know they’re here somewhere.”

  “Are you sure you wore any?” he teases, knowing full well he ripped them off.

  “Levi! This isn’t the time to joke around. Help me find them. Please.”

  “Calm down. They couldn’t have gone far.”

  He reaches down and starts packing up the food. He picks up the glass of wine he poured and downs the whole thing then places the empty glass into the cooler.

  I snatch one corner of the blanket off the ground and spot my panties underneath it.

  “How in the world did they end up there?” I ask.

  I hold them up in front of me, balance on one leg, and start to step into them when two uniformed men suddenly walk out of the line of trees by the truck.

  “Oh fuck,” Levi mutters. “It’s the cops.”

  I ball the panties up in my hand and tug down the hem of my dress. The tag is on the outside. Dammit! Too late now to fix it.

  “Do you know them?” Levi asks.

  “No,” I reply, not sure if that’s good or bad.

  The men are wearing the tan uniforms of the Lee County Sheriff’s Department. Both have on broad wide-brimmed hats and dark-tinted sunglasses. They walk slowly through the knee-high wild grass toward us. They’re a scary, forbidding pair.

  “Hand me your panties,” Levi mutters. “I’ll stick them in my jeans.”

  I quickly hand the string of white lace over to him, and he crams them deep in his front pocket.

  “Evening folks,” the tallest officer says when they reach us. He waves a hand at our picnic blanket. “What’s going on here?”

  “Good evening, officers,” Levi answers politely. “We were just having ourselves a little picnic in the woods. We were already packing up since it’s getting dark. Don’t worry, we’ll be sure to clean up our mess and not leave any trash behind.”

  “Did you know this is private property?” the second, more heavy-set officer asks.

  His gaze turns to me and he eyes me carefully. He slowly takes in my messed-up hair, my bare feet, and the now wrinkled, inside-out dress. I wonder if my dress is see-through and if he knows I’m missing my panties.

  Something tells me he knows.

  “We saw the posted sign down at the main road, but we thought that meant not to hunt on the property,” Levi replies with a casual shrug. “We’re not bothering anything and we’re certainly not hunting in June. In fact, I don’t hunt at all.”

  “How did you get past the gate?” the officer asks while the other reaches down to slide the lid off the cooler with the toe of his boot.

  “I opened it,” Levi answers. “There wasn’t a chain or anything. It was unlocked.”

  “Did you see the ‘No Trespassing’ sign when you unlatched the gate and pushed it open?”

  “Yeah, I did,” Levi answers slowly. “Is that a problem?”

  “Let me get this straight,” the officer says. “You knowingly entered private property without permission from the landowner?”

  “I don’t know the current owner,” Levi says. “We used to come up here all the time years ago. We never caused any problems.”

  “Times have changed over the years. We’ve had trouble with groups of kids coming onto private property and tearing things up. Everything from partying to leaving campfires unattended. Last year, two little kids were playing with matches in the woods. Before the fire department could put the fire out, almost twenty homes burned down. Whenever we receive a call about trespassing, we always check it out now.”

  The second officer points to the cooler filled with the beers, the opened bottle of wine and empty glass.

  “Have either of you been drinking this evening?” he asks.

  “Only one glass of wine,” Levi says.

  Wrong answer.

  “How about you, miss?” the officer asks me.

  “No, I haven’t been drinking,” I reply.

  “Which one of you is driving the truck with the rental tag?” The officer tilts his head toward where the truck is parked behind the trees.

  “I am,” we both say at the same time. Levi catches my eye and winks at me.

  The lead officer takes off his sunglasses without a word, cleans them, and slips them back on.

  “Well? Which one is it?” he asks. “One of you is obviously lying. Who is driving the truck?”

  “I am,” Levi says. “She isn’t driving.”

  “That’s what I thought,” the officer says, nodding.

  Levi steps closer to the officer and lifts his hands. “We were just trying to have a peaceful evening. I don’t know what’s happening here, but I’m sure it’s just a big understanding. I’m Levi Hamby. My driver’s license is in my wallet.” He reaches for his pocket.

  “Don’t move!” the officer yells, whipping out his gun and pointing it straight at Levi. “Put your hands on your head.”

  The other officer grabs my upper arm and I let out a surprised yelp. What does he think? That I might have a pistol tucked into my dainty bra under my sundress?

  “Jesus!” Levi yells. “What the hell? Don’t you know who I
am?”

  “Levi, don’t,” I mutter to him in warning.

  He’s only going to make this worse. I can already tell. Levi has a temper. Once he gets heated up, he’s hard to calm down.

  “This is ridiculous,” he says, growing angrier. “All we did was drive around a gate. We’re not breaking any laws here as far as I know.”

  “You’re trespassing,” the officer says. “That’s a law. And from the contents of your cooler, drinking and driving.”

  “No, sir,” Levi answers, adamantly shaking his head. “That’s where you’re wrong. Uber or another rideshare company is only a phone call away.”

  “Uber? Are you crazy?” the officer asks with an incredulous laugh. “What kind of Uber driver could make it up that road? What were you planning on doing? Walking all the way back down to the main highway? Besides, if you were from around here, you’d know we don’t have rideshare in these parts. We’re miles away from anywhere, so don’t tell me you were planning on someone else driving you home.”

  Levi doesn’t answer. Suddenly he lowers his hands, slaps his legs, and bursts out laughing. The officer doesn’t move and keeps his gun leveled at Levi’s head.

  “Alright guys, you got me,” Levi says. “Who put you up to this prank? My band? I’m going to kill those son of a bitches when I get back to Nashville. You two had me going there for a minute. I’ll admit it. You’re good.”

  Levi has lost his mind.

  By now I’ve recognized one of the sheriff’s deputies. He shops at the drugstore with his wife and kids.

  “This isn’t a joke, Levi,” I say.

  The officers glance at each other over our heads. “We’d better call it in,” the lead officer tells the other.

  “Call what in?” Levi asks, his voice rising. “Are you shitting me? This is real? For having a damn picnic?”

  “You’re trespassing and from the sound of your voice, on the verge of resisting arrest,” the officer says. “Which I would highly advise you not to do.”

  “I know my rights,” Levi says firmly, standing up straighter.