I watch the interaction, not saying a word. It's like a soap opera. In her defense the guy is cute. I have no idea how she picked him out so quickly. His hat covers his head, but the bottom hair peeking out the back looks black, and definitely short. He smiles at her, showing off a set of dimples that matches hers. The way his eyes naturally squint is kind of sexy. "That's okay, sweetheart. You ride barrel?"
"Not usually, but I am tonight," she says in passing. "Good luck." She gives him the famous Karsyn wink and continues like he didn't catch her attention at all.
"What's your name?" He calls out the question as the distance increases.
"Karsyn." She never looks back as she responds. She obviously knows exactly what she's doing.
When we get out of earshot the curiosity is killing me. "You're not going to ask his name? I thought you said you were going to hook up with him."
"Watch and learn, peaches."
"Hey, Karsyn."
We both turn around at the same time. It's the cowboy.
"What's up, babe?"
"You watch bull riding?"
"Depends...why do you ask?"
She has a straight face, no emotion showing through. He holds out his hand as if he wants a handshake. I remember Breyson doing that not all that long ago. Instead of looking at him like he's crazy she takes it. A smile breaks free, but I'm not sure why.
"I'm Clint. I ride better with an audience. You think you can help me out with that?"
She pulls her hand back, but it forms into a fist. "I'll see what I can work out, Clint."
She takes a few steps back, pulling us along with her before turning around, leaving him standing in the same spot he was just in. I'm completely lost at what just happened; maybe because I never had to do any of this. It seems like too much work to me.
As we walk into the red dirt ground from the cement we were just walking on people become more scattered. I can see other flag girls all gathered in a group horseback. I'm only assuming they are flag girls based on the flags they are holding next to them that are sitting in a stand hooked to the saddle. Most are sponsor flags.
I realize we are at the back of the arena. I can see the gates in front of us that allow entry. To each side are different stalls with their own gates. I study my surroundings, noticing a chute that spurs from a pen of bulls. It's like a different world back here. "What was that?"
She hands me a small folded up piece of paper as she ties Lucy to a holding bar. Holding it in my hand as I grab the horn of the saddle I push up on the stirrups and throw my leg over, jumping down. I open it and notice a messy handwriting.
I'd like to see more of you, gorgeous girl. Find me later...
You know where.
-Clint
"That's supposed to work?" I laugh. "It seems so elementary."
"I love your innocence, peaches. You should hold onto it forever. You are a rare edition, love, but yes, it works. That is my invitation into those fine ass jeans. It's not supposed to be calculus." She holds out her hand for the note. I hand it back to her.
We both know by Colbie Caillat and Gavin DeGraw starts to play, my ringtone for Breyson. One song speaks so much volume when you put it in play aside the two of us, and everything that's happened throughout our relationship. Since Breyson and I got married I've become an emotional sap, watching and reading every romance imaginable. Having a hobby is kind of nice, but the amount of money I spend on the general arts of the public, books, music, and movies, has gotten out of hand. It could have something to do with all the free time I had staying at home with a newborn.
My most recent find, Safe Haven by Nicholas Sparks, left me a crying mess as that song started to play on the movie. I was already pulling from the tissue box from the story itself, but then I heard that and I was doomed. First thing I did: download it from iTunes. It's been his ringtone ever since.
I pull out my phone, now looking at the picture that is saved under his contact detail. It's a photo of the day we got married on the pier. Breyson got the preacher to take a picture of him standing behind me at the end of the pier with his arms wrapped around me. We wanted to have a picture of the actual wedding day, but that's not the photo I saved.
When we were on the plane flying back home, I was going through the photos I took of us on the boat when I found one that I didn't take or know anything about. Next to the photo the minister took was a candid shot. The two of us were standing at the end of the pier. It was right after we posed for the picture. I had turned around to give Breyson a hug. After he wrapped his arms around my waist he picked me up high enough he could look up at me. I felt so tiny looking down at him and wrapped in his arms.
I guess we had gotten lost in each other, forgetting about the minister, because my hands were resting on his cheeks and we were looking into each other's eyes, smiling. The sun was behind the clouds enough that the background light looks tranquil. A photo I didn't know about is now my favorite one. I haven't even been away from him long and I already miss him.
"Where are you," I ask, answering the call.
"Turn around."
I do and Breyson is standing a few feet back. I instantly smile at his outfit. He always is the master of surprises. I'm always on my toes with him, never knowing what he's going to do next.
I smile, but never disconnect the call. "There's this really sexy guy here. I think I may ask for his digits."
"Oh yeah? What does he look like?"
"Hmmm. Well, he's kind of tall, has short, dirty-blonde hair, blue eyes to die for, and a smile that makes my heart feel like it could fly. I might even be thinking about him naked."
We remain standing apart, but staring at each other as we talk in the phone.
"He sounds hot."
"Oh, he is. You should see what he's wearing right now. A pair of tight jeans that does wonders for his ass, a long sleeved shirt that hugs his chest, a ball cap, and a pair of cowboy boots."
Breyson never dresses in boots and Wranglers unless he's on the ranch. He was raised country, but he's not a cowboy. I've always called him my southern prep, because you'd never know he dressed like this if you haven't seen him at Pops'. He never wears any form of a hat other than a ball cap, and when he does it's usually when it's summer and hot, but him in a ball cap and boots is my absolute weakness. This...is all for me.
"That's funny, I think I just saw him."
"Do you think he'd talk to me?"
"I think he'd do a whole lot more than talk to you if given the chance. Word is he's been crushing on you for a while."
It's getting harder to keep the grin to a minimal.
"Do me a favor, will you?"
"What's that, beautiful?"
"Tell him to come kiss me."
We lower our phones at the same time, never breaking eye contact. He slides his in his jean pocket and starts walking toward me. I can't think. This is the sexiest man on the planet and he's totally and irreversibly mine. This man has completely stolen my heart.
He stops in front of me and places his hand on the side of my neck. I wrap my hand around his wrist, waiting for it.
"Finally.... Next time don't make a man wait so long."
He lays his lips on mine and that tingle that will never get old starts to spread across my lips. I believe that lips have memory. Kissing is a standard act, but each person does it slightly different. It doesn't matter whether it's been twelve hours or seven months since we last indulged in it, because every time our lips touch...they pick up right where we last left off.
Chapter 24
Kinzleigh
Breyson, Fisher, and I are finally sitting in our seats ready for the rodeo to start. Breyson reaches over and grabs my hand, pulling it to rest on his thigh. I look around the large coliseum. The ceiling is in the shape of a dome and there is a bowl of seating around the center arena that is made of red dirt.
Each time I glance at Fisher he's looking at the gate. If I had to guess he's looking for a certain someone. It's kind of sad rea
lly, knowing what she's going to do with that Clint guy and Fisher is here wanting her attention, but not outwardly admitting it. The guy really isn't that bad. I've gotten to know him in the Speech class we have together. He's really easy going, but he has a goofy personality about him, constantly making people laugh.
I wish Karsyn would let herself get to know him, but she is a free spirit, not wanting to be tamed. If Fisher wants to catch her he's got his work cut out for him, but I get an inkling that he doesn't give up that easily on something he wants.
The lights go off and a male's voice starts talking through the speaker. A spotlight comes on, shining down on the gate that leads into the arena. It's an older man on a horse holding a microphone in one hand. He's talking about rodeo, an opening introduction of sorts.
The big screen television comes on showing a short trailer with cowboys and cattle. The announcer asks that everyone bow their heads for a short prayer and he prays, asking for safety on all of the people involved in the show. At the prayer's end he announces for everyone to stand for the national anthem at the same time an American flag appears on the screen.
As we stand Breyson pulls me closer to him, tucking me underneath his arm. I wrap my arm around his lower back. This is my spot, my nook; I fit perfectly in it, my height against his. I place my right hand over my heart as the female voice starts singing.
Whoever it is singing has a set of lungs. The national anthem isn't something everyone can pull off, because it's nothing but vocal. There is no music to hide behind. There is something about that voice, though, that sounds familiar.
I start looking around to see where it's coming from. I finally see another spotlight shining down in the corner beside the bull riders, not far from the gate. My mouth drops when I realize it's Karsyn. Holy crap, her voice is amazing. I remembered at the Halloween party hearing it some, but I never knew it was like that.
I slap Breyson in the stomach with the palm of my hand, requesting his attention. He has his ball cap over his heart as she sings; the only reason he had to remove his arm from around me. He lowers his head, making his ear level with my mouth. "That's Karsyn singing. Check it out...in the corner."
He nods and looks where I direct him. I notice him nudge Fisher and point with his head to where she is standing holding a microphone.
She finishes up the anthem and runs through the gate. After a few seconds fireworks go off from the center of the arena. I can hear hooves trampling against the dirt in a steady rhythm. The overhead lights come on to the flag girls rushing through the gate, carrying the flag they are representing horseback.
Every girl is carrying a different flag, mostly sponsors of the rodeo. A few I notice are Wrangler, Justin boots, and Dodge. Each horse runs in a single file line around the circle one full lap, letting all horses enter the arena.
Karsyn comes in last, on Lucy, holding the American flag. They each stop in their designated formation as the announcer comes through the middle, still talking, and giving everyone permission to be seated. My adrenaline is already starting to spike. I wonder what it would be like sitting on one of those horses like that.
The older man announces a list of different details, mostly boring stuff, but I guess it has to do with the different parties that helped put on the event. Out of nowhere a clown enters into the arena making jokes. I laugh. I can't help it. Something that so many people are terrified of is walking around in huge overalls with suspenders. The two continue in a humorous bicker before the announcer calls the start of the rodeo and the flag girls take off in a full run exiting the arena.
Breyson leans over the arm of the fold out seating to whisper in my ear. "Are you ready for the fun to start?"
I never cease to amaze myself at the things I find fun, new things that I still discover on a daily basis, thanks to mostly Breyson and of course others. I have no idea what to expect, but I'm ready to find out. "Yes! What comes first?"
He places his arm over the back of the chair. I love when he attempts to get closer to me. I never imagined I'd like public displays of affection, but with Breyson I do. I welcome every touch, every embrace, and every kiss I can get from him. After two years he still turns my insides out and constantly makes me feel like I'm going on the triple loop of a roller coaster.
His lips touch my ear, sending chills all over my body. "I love being here with you, watching you try new things. Your excitement makes me feel like I'm trying them for the first time all over again. I never want to stop courting you, even when we’re old and gray."
My eyes close. He always says the most romantic things at the most unexpected times, making it even better. All my life I've seen girls with the misconstrued idea of what romance is. Romance isn't over the top dates or epic proposals, it's the realistic proportions of your man doing whatever and it still makes your heart feel like it's going to dance right out of your chest.
I don't need the Eiffel Tower in June or the Alps in December to feel like I'm being romanced. I need for my husband to tell me that he never wants to stop courting me. I need to dance in our backyard under the stars. I need to sit by his side with his arm around me while he whispers sweet nothings in my ear. That is the definition of real life romance, and I'm one of the luckiest women in the world because I have it.
I lay the side of my head against his mouth and pretend for a moment that we're not in the middle of hundreds of people watching a man ride a bucking horse. Right now I just want to enjoy that it's just the two of us in a sea of people that we'll never see again. "Have I told you lately that I'm the luckiest girl in the world?"
He alters his position so that he's holding up my head with his forehead, freeing his lips. "Tell me why..."
"The complexity of my emotions by the simple things."
"That was deep."
He cups his hand on my arm and pulls me into him. He starts lightly rubbing up and down the length of my upper arm while the world is continuing around us.
"You captivate me with little to no effort at all. You say things sometimes as if you don't even have to think about them, like they are just existing in your mind, waiting for the right moment to be released. You always make me feel special. I mean, what happened to you? You were the cocky jock that everyone wanted and I was just the shy, distant girl that turned your head. How did that turn you into this amazing person that most don't get the chance to meet in their lifetime, but I get to have you every day?"
"I fell in love with my muse is all..."
The most perfect answer in a matter of nine words, and I'm going to sit here and meditate on it while I watch a rodeo with my husband, because this is what you do when you're in love. You enjoy each other's company without distractions of things that don't matter, always keeping each other first no matter what. He is my better half and my best friend.
Chapter 25
Breyson
Wedding Day....
The men got booted out of the house. We ended up at Mims and Pops' house to get ready for the wedding. My bride and her maidens are at our house. I'm not sure who invented the rule that I'm not supposed to see her before the wedding. I have a feeling it was a woman though. No man would come up with something so ridiculous. I don't like it, not one bit.
I'm standing at the dresser mirror looking at myself. It's been a long time since I've worn a tux. After all, I didn't make it to my senior prom. Kinzleigh went with beige since it's outdoors and rustic style. I cannot wait to see what she looks like.
Braxton places his hands on my shoulders from behind me. "My little brother's growing up so fast. Slow down, son, you're making me feel old."
I raise my brow. His exceedingly cocky attitude never fails, even toned down a notch since him and Adalynn started dating. "That whole three minute difference is really starting to make you an old man. I can already see a few grays."
He closes in on the distance from his head to the mirror, shuffling around the blonde hairs on his head. "No the hell I don't. Shut the fuck up."
I smile
and shake my head. He's so predictable. "I don't know how Adalynn puts up with you and your self absorbed tendencies."
"She has no complaints...in any department."
"Dude, way too much information. I don't want to hear that shit."
I walk to the edge of the bed and sit down, leaving him to himself to sort out his conceited issues. He's my brother, my best friend, and I love him, but how we split from the same exact DNA I will never understand. If you don't know us you can't tell us apart, but our personalities, though overall similar, are completely different.
Fisher takes a seat beside me. Even though I've only known him since the start of school last fall he's become a best friend. When Kinzleigh told me to choose my groomsmen I didn't even have to think about it, he was already chosen. "You ready to do this?"
"You are aware I'm already married right?"
I start putting on my shoes. All I will be lacking is the jacket for the finishing touch. "Yes, but now it's going to be for everyone to witness. It makes it more real, you know, so are you ready?"
"More than anything I've ever been ready for before. I've known since she showed up at school senior year that I wasn't going to be able to walk away from her again. The context in which I want her is forever, infinite, never ending. We claimed ownership over each other a long time ago. This is merely a show..."
"You know your soul is really aged for the physical years your body has been on this earth, right? I definitely do not believe in reincarnation, but sometimes you say things that make it hard not to wonder. I thought I was in the minority by not wanting to sleep with every girl willing to spread her legs, but you make even me look bad."
I laugh. It's not all that often that Fisher gets serious. Really and truly the guy jokes nonstop. His personality is laid back and fun. He keeps things light instead of constantly being weighted down with heavy topics of conversation, but that's why he has so many friends. I've lost most of mine by not following the crowd. Being married at nineteen puts a damper on things, but an endless friends list is overrated. I'd rather have six true friends than a ton of meaningless ones anyway.
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