by Julie Reece
“Yeah, I’m sure it will.” I stare at the rippling water since that’s easier than facing the unnerving blue eyes I feel settle on me. Does it make me a terrible person that my stomach went south as he talked about Piper, and the dream their mothers’ had for getting their kids together?
Silas pulls his hand from the water and flicks a few drops my direction. “You’re up. Distract me from my troubles by telling me all about your boyfriend, now.”
“Ex-boyfriend.”
“Okay. Ex-boyfriend, then. Your breakup story can’t be worse than mine.”
He’s right, but I play it off. “Hmmm, you sure you want to hear this? My story lacks originality. It’s seriously, like, the world’s worst cliché.”
“You’re not getting out of it.”
“Here goes. His name is Alex—because all hot, rebellious, high school musicians are named Alex. Or Axel. Or Slash. Dated him half my junior year. I thought he liked me right up to the point where I found him with another girl in the backseat of his car.”
Silas stills, eyes gleaming with an intensity I can’t decipher.
“Awful, right?” I say, assuming he’s on my side. “I caught them. In the act. After a concert in our school parking lot.”
“What did you say?” His shoulders square, and I think he might be defensive for my sake. Then again, my imagination tends to sprint off to stupid places.
“Not much. I don’t share well with others, and I’m more of an actions speak louder type of girl.” I jiggle my line on the water hoping for a bite, though we’ve caught nothing. “When Alex tried to stop me from leaving, he grabbed my arm. I just … reacted and shoved him into the hood of his car. Then she got in my face, talking trash, and defending him. I wound up punching our head cheerleader in the nose. That move was a bit more premeditated, I’ll admit.”
He chuckles deep in his throat. “I think that’s fantastic.”
“Yeah, well, my dad’s Team Restraint, so no, not fantastic. Though when I wouldn’t take Alex back, Dad did reduce my punishment by half.”
“I’m sorry, Autumn. I really am.” His tender tone strikes the coordinating string inside my bruised and battered heart.
“Thanks.” I shake the strands of loose hair off my sweaty face. “I’ll get us matching Sponge Bob Band-Aids we can wear over our hearts. We’ll be all right.”
His smile is kind. “I know we will.”
We fish for a while more, soaking in the silence. Silas catches a small fish and throws it back. I give up and bring in my bait. This lure is getting a minus one on the feedback scale. After securing my pole in the boat, I stretch out on my bench, letting my feet dangle over the side.
My eyes close, sun turning the inside of my eyelids all red and warm. I hum a song in my head. My mother loved music and sang to us as kids. Humming turns to singing, and singing becomes Sara Bariellis’s version of Sitting On The Dock Of The Bay. I keep the volume low, and trust Silas will tell me to shut up if I’m bugging him. When he doesn’t, I figure he’s either being polite or likes it.
When I finish, I crack an eyelid open and find Silas watching with an odd look on his face. My laugh breaks the quiet. “Sorry. That bad? My singing gets on some people’s nerves.” Some people being my dad.
“I didn’t know you could sing. Not like that.”
“A compliment?” I close my eyes again, so he can’t see how much the words mean to me. “You’re slipping, Reeves.”
“You may be right. Let’s talk about our work schedule instead. We need to finish labeling all the products for the farmer’s market. Then next week, we’ll head to North Carolina for the three-day camping trip, where we’ll finish the product testing. On the last day, you’ll spend a night by yourself, using all the survival skills you’ve learned so far.
I swallow, willing myself not to panic. I bring my feet inside the boat and sit up. “That’s a lot to get done.”
“It sounds worse than it is. You’ll be fine and you have me.” He grins. “What could go wrong?”
I don’t even want to go there.
“The finale of this grand learning experience includes the Cowpens annual festival, The Mighty Moo.”
How could I forget with posters plastered all over town? BBQ and people dressing up like livestock. “I can hardly wait.” My tone is as dry as the Sahara.
“There’s a parade, that’s tradition, and you’ll ride with the family on the Behr float. The CEO has asked for you to present the awards to pageant winners at the dance that evening. Everyone gets dressed up. You’ll wear a formal gown. There’s music and dancing. The awards are actually scholarships, that’s the new part, and all of it funded by Grizzly.”
I laugh, I can’t help it. “Be serious. Can you see me in a formal gown, handing out trophies to sparkly pageant winners?”
“Why?” My smile disappears beneath the dark look he’s giving me. His body casts a menacing shadow as he leans forward. “Why is the idea so incomprehensible to you?” He rubs a palm over his face. “Autumn, look at me.” I am. His cobalt eyes have me nailed to my seat. “No games. Tell me the truth. Do you honestly not know how beautiful you are?”
“You think I’m beautiful?” The words spill from my mouth before I can stop them. Yes, sure, I’m not coyote ugly, or anything, but as I wipe my sweaty cheek on my shoulder sleeve, I couldn’t feel less attractive.
“I know you are.” I catch my breath as he slides a boot between my feet. His hands grip the seat on either side of my hips, forearms penning me in, grazing my thighs. Reason is out the window as my body reacts in kind, inching up until there is less than two inches between us. Mouth dry, all the air evacuates my lungs. He’s going to kiss me. And I want him to.
His full lips run feather light over mine, sending a voltaic charge through me to my toes. He lifts his head. Is it raining? A hailstorm? If there is, I wouldn’t know. An alligator could crawl in the boat right now, and all I would see is the firestorm in Silas’s eyes. Feel the heat of his mouth so near mine. His fingers run the length of my cheek to my jawbone, tracing downward to my chin. This thing happening between us gains momentum. My promise to stay neutral weakens under the barley-restrained desire I see building in his posture, the ache of wanting inside me, and something else I can’t name, I’m afraid to name.
“We shouldn’t,” I whisper. I’m afraid of this tumbling down thing my heart is doing. I’ve been lying to myself. The connection draws me. An inescapable force unlike anything I’ve known before.
He trails a line of kisses down my jaw leaving a sweet sting in their wake. “I know. That’s why I’m not doing anything.” He presses his lips to the pulse rocketing away in my neck. I relax against his arm, giving him greater access.
The anything he is not doing is slow and sensual, eviscerating my insides. “You should know,” I say, voice breathy, “that I hate boys.”
“That’s good,” he says between more hypnotic kisses. “Hate every boy … ” He nips at my mouth, secures my bottom lip between his teeth, tugs and releases. “Except me.”
My hand goes to his chest. I pause against the smooth muscles beneath his shirt, feel the pounding of his heart through my palm, and fear we’ll ruin everything if we don’t stop. “Silas.” My tone lands somewhere between a warning and a plea. “We can’t.” But I want to. I never want him to stop.
Silas leans away so fast, I’m caught off guard. His chest rises and falls in quick succession, matching my own accelerated breathing. “You’re right. I’m sorry. That never should have happened.”
17
Autumn
After a quiet dinner of pasta (minus the meatballs for me) with Silas and the Behrs up at the big house, I settle in at the shack. The place is cozy and smells like pine. A refuge from the tumultuous feelings Silas’s anti-kiss and apology wrought.
I’ve grown to like my temporary home after all.
As I slip into shorts and a soft, cotton sleep tee, my mind drifts to Silas. Images of him hiking on the trail, pettin
g his dog, squirting me with the garden hose all flood my mind. The clean scent of his cologne heightens my memory. His laugh haunts me like a favorite song. Gah! Stop thinking stupid brain. He’s attractive. So what? The kiss was a mistake. A single moment that’s over. Move on.
His mother practically has him married off to Piper. My father wants me married to a serious four-year plan for my future, and I’m leaving at the end of the summer. Coupled with my vow to hate guys in general, and his oh-my-glory-what-have-I-done face after kissing me, there are exactly zero good reasons for me to allow an attraction to escalate to full blown crush status.
Except I think it already has.
I grab my cell and crawl into bed, ready for the dreaded fru-fru dress talk with my sister. I’ve come this far, and girly tiaras are still more appealing than going home to Daddy dearest. So, as much as I hate to admit it, there’s only one way for me to pull off this awards ceremony business. I’m going to need Sydney.
My thumb scrolls for her number and hits the key at the same time I’m accosted by a huge black dog. “Gus! You cannot sleep with me!”
“Hello? Autumn, is that you?”
“Hang on, Syd,” I yell, so she can hear me. “I need to talk to you.” Gus shoves his head against mine. The dog hair in my mouth strangles me. “Off.” I push on Gus’s back, but he flops across my lap and won’t budge. “Fine, stay there.” I push the receiver to my face. “Yes. It’s me, Syd. Hello?”
“If you have a guy in your bed, I’d say we have a lot to discuss.”
“Well, he is male. Slobbery and fat but also, he’s a dog, so I don’t think you’ll want to talk about him.” A sneeze explodes from my nose.
“Uh, o-kay.”
“So how’s New York?” I sniff. “What’s happening with your supervisor, Nate?”
“It’s all right, I guess. Not what I expected.” Her tone loses its perky flavor sending up a red flag. “My gaydar was a complete fail on Nate. I met his boyfriend a couple of days ago. Equally cute.
“Sorry.”
“It’s whatever, forget about him. I have so much to tell you!” And just like that, the perk is back. My silence gives her the go ahead, not that she’d wait for my permission, anyway. “Guess who came into the shop this morning?” Syd doesn’t even pause before saying, “You’ll never guess, so I’ll just tell you. Alex!” My whole body freezes. “He didn’t have my number, didn’t know where I was staying, so he tracked me down. Guess why?” My mouth opens, but she plows ahead. “He wants your number. The boy isn’t as stupid as I thought, because he knew you changed it and he found out where I work.”
“You didn’t give it to him. Tell me you’re not that—”
“Of course not.” I breathe a sigh of relief and thank the good Lord above when I hear, “I gave him your address in South Carolina.”
“Sydney!”
“Yes I did. You should have seen him, Autumn. He’s sorry. Like, really, really sorry. He was so torn up, and cute, and went on talking about you for I don’t know, like, five maybe even six whole minutes. It was incredibly boring actually, listening to him rave about what you mean to him, and how he didn’t know what you had together until after he’d lost you. He wants the chance to apologize and make things right.”
Giving Alex my address was low, even for Sydney. “Six minutes, huh? Amazing you were able to focus that long. You know, I think he had more quality together-time with Kelly in the backseat of his car than he ever did with me.” My voice rises. “I can’t believe you did this. Alex was a selfish, egotistical jerk of a boyfriend to me. I’m lucky to be shed of him, and his coming to your workplace only makes me add creepy stalker to the list. Stay away from him, Syd. I’m telling you.”
She huffs into the phone. “Don’t tell me what to do. You’re just being mean and bitter, now. I only helped him so he could write to you and clear his conscience, not get engaged. People say closure is very important for someone to move on.”
“People?”
“Yes, Dr. Phil.”
“Maybe Dr. Phil can help you when I snatch you bald-headed for doing this to me.” Blood boiling, I’d like nothing more than to hang up on my interfering sister, but I don’t. I still need her. “I can’t stop him from writing, now, but I don’t have to answer. Just stay out it from now on, okay?”
“Fine. Sheeze. I only wanted to help.” Her voice gets weepy, and I roll my eyes. “You’re so melodramatic, Autumn.”
“Yes, I’m so like that. Can we change the subject?” She gives me a fake, crying hiccup as her answer. “I wanted to tell you that I’m doing good here, or I was. Maybe. I kind of like it. The Behrs are nice to me.”
“I thought your supervisor was a hot idiot.” She sniffs again for emphasis in case it will make me feel bad for yelling at her. It doesn’t. “This is great, you’re sent to South Dakota … ” South Carolina. “ … and I’m in New York City, and you’re the happy one?” Her laugh is bitter. “That’s perfect.”
My hand stills against Gus’s head. Always petulant, my sister’s tone warns of something deeper. “Sydney, what’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” She sighs. “Nothing. So, what about the hot idiot?”
“He was, is … I don’t know, he’s … ” Different. Called me beautiful and kissed me, then instantly regretted it. Was my kissing that bad? Alex never complained, at least not about that part. Was Silas afraid of getting fired? He’d hardly said two words to me at dinner. Maybe it’s for the best he stopped us when he did. Yeah. One little kiss means nothing. Shut up, head. “Whatever. Anyway, that brings me to why I called. I need fashion help.”
“You might need to say that again.” All evidence of crying dries up and her tone hardens like flint.
My teeth graze my bottom lip as I think about the task at hand. “Look, there’s a dance in a couple of weeks. I’m supposed to wear a bedazzled dress and give a formal-ass speech. I don’t do that crap.”
“But you will?”
I don’t understand her question. “Well, yeah. I have to do what they say or go home. That’s the way it works here.”
“Uh huh. And you haven’t told them to shove it with a red hot poker yet?”
“Sure, several times.” This is “detail” Sydney, the one that loves gossip. She’ll help me, but not before her curiosity is met, so she can tattle to Dad.
“So how is your butt not fired?”
Huh, I have to think about that for a minute. “No idea, really. Silas just tells me to shove it right back, more or less. He’s not like the boys at school.”
“You mean he’s not afraid you’re demon possessed?”
“Right.” Now that I think of it, not even a little bit. “See, I had to stop being mean. Or, be less mean than normal to get through the summer. That might have helped.”
“So you’re cooperating, trying to be polite?”
My legs numb under Gus’s weight. “Pretty much.”
“Interesting.” I can almost feel her twisting her villainous mustache on the other end of the phone. Metaphorically speaking, of course. “Does nothing about this scenario strike you as odd?”
No. Maybe. Is this a trick question? “What do you mean?”
“I mean, little sister, since when do you do anything anyone tells you to? Like, ever. Awww, crap!” She snarls like a wolf caught in a trap. “I chipped a nail. Dang it! Ugh.” A pause. “Anyway, I’m honestly shocked you’re still there. Dad and I thought you’d get canned within the first week.”
“Thanks,” I deadpan. Me, too. “You talked to Dad?” I try to sound casual, but I’m not sure I pull it off.
“Only a couple of times this week. When he calls, I’m too busy to talk. Plus, I sort of hate my job. He’s so perceptive; he’d hear the unhappiness in my voice and try to rescue me. You know how he is.”
Not at all. “Yeah.” Subject change. “So, are you going to help me with the stupid Mighty Moo dance?”
“Oh, good Lord, is that what they call it? Will the Chick-fil-A cow be yo
ur date?’ She giggles. “I don’t know what they’re doing to you down there, but I think I prefer homeless hitchhiker to submissive, goat girl. Do you hear how wrong that sounds?”
“Shut up, Sydney.”
“Autumn, do you even want to be there anymore? Are you just doing all of this to avoid going home? Because if you are—”
“No.” Wasn’t she the one who said a few short weeks ago I needed to succeed here? Though I’m not surprised, it stings to think there’s still a part of her that needs me to give up so she can be the good daughter for my father again. Between my shiny sister and my dad’s constant disapproval, there never seemed much point in me wanting more. But Mrs. Phelps was right about one thing: there is life after high school. I’d been so stuck in my old routine; I couldn’t face my future. Then I came here. If college is my ticket to something better, who cares how I get there. I want a shot at finding what Jesse has. I suck up a deep breath and dive. “Yes, I want your help, but just so I can get my scholarship, okay?”
“All right,” she huffs. “I’ll do it.” A sudden squeal nearly punctures my eardrum. “I just got the most fantastical idea. I’m a genius. Yay! You might as well start bowing and scraping now.”
“What idea?”
“Shhhhh! You’ll disrupt the flow of my most brilliant thoughts.” Papers rustle in the background. “Oh, I can’t possibly talk now. I need to get on my computer.”
“Snorter.”
“Goat girl. Talk soon, darling. Ta!”
The line goes dead. My fingers run the length of Gus’s head. He sighs and rolls toward me, crushing my knee with his weight. I feel like one of those tattered magazines from a hair salon, the ones with all the best articles and pictures ripped out and missing, and I’m tired of feeling that way. My only hope for Moo is that my sister’s vanity, and the opportunity to make me over, will outweigh her desire to see me crawl home with my tail between my legs.
And I’m really not sure which one she’ll choose.