Country music blared through the night, mingling with cheers and girls giggling. What was it about alcohol that made girls laugh about everything? I never understood what was so damn funny. Then again, I had never had much to laugh about.
My eyes traveled over the bodies, looking for anyone familiar that I could trust to drive me home. Most of the people looked like they were already drunk off their butts. The barn wasn’t that far from my house so I would walk if I had to, but I’d rather not. I spotted that girl, Michelle, who had been flirting with Dylan last night and wondered if he was here, too. My heart sped up, and I had just decided that I would risk walking home when I spotted a black baseball cap through the crowd. Dylan stood with three other guys, a beer in his hand. He was dressed in jeans and red and blue plaid shirt. He laughed at something one of them said, making me lose myself with how gorgeous he was. A girl with short blonde hair walked up to his group and wrapped her arms around Dylan’s waist, leaning her head on his shoulder. The breath in my lungs vanished, along with my schoolgirl fantasies. I felt so stupid for thinking Dylan was more than his sordid reputation.
James cut across my line of sight, heading toward Grayson. Dylan’s head snapped up, tracking James as he moved across the barn. His jaw tightened and then slacked as he swiveled his head, his eyes searching the crowd for someone. When his gaze found mine, his lips parted in surprise. I gave him a tightlipped smile and turned around to start walking home.
I had just stopped thinking about Brooke when she showed up at the party. What was she doing here? As far as I knew, she didn’t hang out with any of these people. Her eyes when she saw me were angry and hurt, and it was like a sucker punch to my gut. I was all ready to let her go—forget all about our kiss today and move the fuck on—and she walks back into my life.
“I’ll be right back,” I told Jase, unwinding myself from Carrie’s, grip. She and I had been close since high school but never hooked up. Tonight she was drinking herself silly because she had found her boyfriend of a year with another girl.
“Watch her, will ya?” I told Jase, signaling to Carrie.
“Yeah, man, but where are you going?”
I didn’t answer him because I knew he would give me the speech about how Brooke and I didn’t belong together. I already knew that. I just didn’t care. Now that I had had a taste of her, I couldn’t go back to girls like Michelle.
Once I was outside, I searched the field for where she had gone. There were at least thirty cars taking up space in the field, and I spotted James’s BMW two rows back, but Brooke wasn’t inside. I moved through the cars, swiveling my head as I looked for her. A shadow stuck out against the night, heading down the driveway.
“Brooke,” I called, cupping my hands around my mouth. The figure paused, looking over her shoulder and then turned back around and kept walking. I took off running and skidded to a stop when I reached her.
“What are you doing here?”
“I came with James,” she said, keeping her eyes forward. “One of his friends is here.”
“So why are you leaving?”
She shrugged, hugging her arms to her chest. “I planned on leaving before. I was just looking for someone to drive me home. James didn’t want to leave.”
“Brooke,” I said, grabbing her arm to stop her. “Why are you even with him after what I told you last night?”
“I thought you were joking or just being a jerk,” she said.
“Well, I wasn’t. He’s not a good guy, and I don’t want something happening to you.”
Her eyes finally landed on my face, hard and piercing, even in the darkness. Shadows fell along her ivory skin veiling part of her face. She smiled humorlessly and shook her head, a soft snort huffing out of her nose.
“What?”
“It’s just funny that someone like you is pretending to be honorable.”
“Someone like me?” I asked. “Tell me, what it is you think you know about someone like me, Brooke Kingsley.”
She studied the ground, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. When she met my eyes again, the anger was back. “It’s no secret you use girls for sex and then leave them when you’ve gotten what you want.”
I fisted my hands, hating that was what she thought of me. It wasn’t necessarily untrue, but it wasn’t completely true either.
“I told you last night that I don’t work under false pretenses,” I said. “The girls I’ve been with know it’s casual. I don’t offer them any more, and I sure as hell have never drugged or raped any of the girls I’ve been with.” Her eyes widened at my brash words, but it was the truth. Being compared to a lowlife like James Henderson pissed me off.
“If I’m so horrible, why did you meet me today or let me kiss you?”
She chewed on her bottom lip, looking away. “I don’t think you’re horrible, Dylan. I just … I don’t know what I’m doing with you, okay?”
“Let me drive you home. I’ll drop you off at the end of your drive so your parents don’t see you with me. I just don’t want you walking alone at night.”
“It’s not that far of a walk,” she said. “I don’t think it’s a good idea for us to hang out anymore.”
“Why?” I asked. “Because of what I said about your boyfriend?”
“Because I have a boyfriend, and you have … your casual flings, or because I’m leaving in two days—take your pick. There is no logical reason for us to even be talking.”
I reached for her hand and tipped her chin up so that she would meet my eyes. We watched each other for a few moments before I found the courage to say what I wanted to say.
“Brooke, I know you’ve liked me for a while now.”
Her lips parted, and her eyebrows drew together. When she tried to turn her eyes away from me, I released my grip of her chin and stepped closer to her. I had to watch myself around this girl. She felt too damn good in my arms, and her reactions to me were addictive. I wanted to touch her just to see how bright her eyes got or the way her body trembled beneath my touch.
“So you decided to see if you could get into my pants before I left for school, knowing I would be gone and wouldn’t be around to bother you afterward?” She took a step away from me, her eyes just as accusing as a lot of others I’d seen. Honestly, I hadn’t had a concrete plan when it came to Brooke. When I had Dana invite her to the party, it was out of sheer curiosity. I wanted to see how she would respond to me in public. After she agreed to do the shots, my interest in her amplified. Not because she was drinking, but because she let me touch her around witnesses. She wasn’t afraid of what people would think about a Kingsley and a Crawford getting cozy.
“I’m not after your virginity, Brooke,” I told her and could almost see her cheeks redden in the dark. “I’ve noticed you, too, you know. I just never thought anything could ever happen between us.” I closed the distance between us, itching to reach out and circle my arms around her body. Instead, I stood so that our shirts touched. “Had I known you weren’t like the others, I would have spoken to you sooner.”
She tipped her head up to meet my eyes, her features softening. “What makes you think I’m not like the others?”
“Because of this,” I said, “Us standing here talking right now, and the fact that you met me today, and we kissed. The rich people in this town slum it with my kind from time to time, but that’s not what you’re doing, is it?”
She blinked as though coming out of a trance, shaking her head and backing away from me. My heart thumped in my chest, my body wanting her so damn bad. I wanted to tangle my fingers in her long honey hair and feel her slim frame in my strong arms. I wanted the heat of her breath on my face as I claimed her mouth and kissed her until we were breathing for each other.
“I don’t know what I’m doing with you.”
We stared at each other, allowing the silence to settle around us. In the moonlight she looked like an angel—pure and sweet. My eyes fell to her full lips, remembering how soft they had felt against my ow
n.
“Come with me somewhere,” I said, reaching for her hand. “I’ll show you what we’re doing together.” I started walking back up the drive, pulling Brooke with me. Her fingers clasped around my hand, and she laughed at my hurried pace.
“What are we doing?”
“What we were supposed to do tonight.”
When we reached my truck, I opened the passenger’s side door and helped her climb inside my big truck. I grasped her waist in both hands and helped lift her inside. When she was settled in the seat, I stood there and stared at her. She looked so out of place in my dirty truck, but so right, too. Closing the door softly, I hurried to the driver side and climbed in.
“How much have you had to drink tonight?” Brooke asked as I turned the key in the ignition.
“One beer,” I told her. “I had only been here for a half an hour when you showed up. I may be reckless sometimes, but I would never drive drunk or put you in danger.”
She smiled, biting her lower lip. “I don’t know why, but I believe you.”
What started as a crappy night was turning out great. I could kiss James for bringing me to the party. Well, you know … if I wasn’t fantasizing about kissing Dylan again. I loved how nothing and everything made sense when I was around him. It was sad that the idea of just being in his truck excited me, knowing it was forbidden—he was forbidden. I think I liked him more because I knew my daddy wouldn’t. It wasn’t so much a rebellious thing, but more of a character thing. If my daddy liked someone, it meant they were just as shallow, arrogant, or rich as he was. I was tired of picking the people in my life based on their portfolios.
Dylan turned down a road I didn’t recognize. Except for the glow of the dashboard, the cab of the truck was so dark I could hardly make out his features. Trees hugged the thin road, blocking out the glow of the moon. I had been staring out the window, pretending to be interested in the scenery, when Dylan reached his hand across the seat and grasped mine. I looked at our joined hands and then up at him, noticing he was already looking at me. He flicked his eyes between the road and me, a smirk growing on his lips. A flutter tickled my stomach when I thought about how he made me feel. It was no wonder so many females hung around him, and knowing he had chosen to be with me tonight only made my obsession grow that much more.
When he stopped the truck, I brought my eyes to the windshield. “You brought me to a field?” My earlier excitement turned to unease, wondering what he expected us to do out here. I liked Dylan, but I had no plans to sleep with him, especially in the cab of a truck in the middle of nowhere. The unease grew when I reminded myself that I really didn’t know Dylan, other than what I had heard around town. What if he wasn’t as wonderful as my stupid pathetic heart had led me to believe?
Messing around with something on the gearshift, he then revved the engine, causing my heart to speed up, as well. He squeezed my fingers, an amused glint reflecting in his eyes as he looked at me.
“I’m guessing you’ve never been muddin’.”
My mouth dropped open, and my eyes shot to the field again. “Oh no …”
Dylan either didn’t hear my plea over the roar of the engine, or he didn’t care. He let off the brake, and the truck went racing forward like an angry bull. He cut the steering wheel to the left and a huge splatter of mud sprayed onto my window and part of the windshield. I shrieked when he spun the truck around and sped toward another muddy part of the field. Turning the steering wheel again, more mud splattered up, covering the whole windshield. Dylan flipped on the wipers, never slowing down as he sped around the open field like a mad man. One of his turns was so sharp, it sent me sailing across the bench seat, and I collided into Dylan’s shoulder. Without missing a beat, his arm came up and cradled my shoulder before I could scooch over to my side again. The warmth of his body against mine coupled with the spicy scent of his cologne made me momentarily forget I was scared.
The truck came to a rapid stop, flinging my body slightly forward. Dylan’s fingers curled around my shoulder to hold me in place.
“Shit,” he mumbled. “We’re stuck.”
“Oh, thank God.”
He chuckled and looked over at me. Our faces were so close that all I had to do to kiss him was tip my chin up a hair.
“So,” I said, my voice soft, “this is what we’re doing together, muddin’?”
His lips separated in a big smile. “No, smartass, we’re having fun.”
He held my eyes for a long moment, as though wondering if he should kiss me or not. I wish he would because I wasn’t brave enough to make the first move. Finally, he looked away and unwound his arm from my shoulder.
“I have to dig us out,” he said.
I sat up and slid away from him a little bit. “Okay.”
I watched as he opened the door and climbed outside. His shoes sunk into the mud, and he balanced himself by holding onto the open door. Had that been James, he would have called Triple A and remained in the car until they showed up. Then again, James would never have done something this crazy—or fun.
“I’m going to dig around the tires,” Dylan said, “When I say ‘when,’ I want you to gun it, okay?”
I eyed his steering wheel, uneasy about handling a vehicle this size. I was use to my nice little Mercedes, not a four-wheel drive monster truck. I wasn’t even sure if I could see over the hood of it.
“Okay,” I heard myself saying, meeting Dylan’s eyes. He smiled up at me, flipping his hat backward. Spikes of his dark hair peeked out from beneath, making him look like an innocent country boy. I felt myself falling for him a little bit more in that moment. It was strange what little things could affect a person and how someone could become engrained in another’s memory. I knew when I was at UA and I thought about Dylan, this moment right now would visit my memories again, and I would remember exactly how I felt.
He worked his way to the back of the truck, his footsteps making a sucking sound as he fought against the mud. I watched him in the side mirror, my fingers gripping the steering wheel. Dylan knelt down, ignoring the fact that he was getting mud all over his jeans. I didn’t know why, but it turned me on. There was nothing prim or proper about Dylan Crawford—just a hardworking, blue-collar man who had deep-rooted himself into my heart.
“Gun it,” he called, taking a step away from the tires. His hands and the knees of his jeans were covered in mud. He swiped his forehead with the back of his arm and met my eyes in the side mirror. Realizing I was staring, I brought my attention back to the windshield and pressed on the gas. The truck rocked forward, the engine revving against the suction of the muck.
“Stop!” Dylan yelled.
I pressed on the brake and looked in the side mirror again. Bubbles of loud laughter fell from my lips when I saw what had happened. The tires had splattered Dylan from head to toe in mud. My hand went to my mouth as I tried to silence my amusement. I shrieked when the driver’s side door whipped open, and Dylan looked at me with a mischievous glint in his green eyes.
“You think that’s funny?”
He was reaching for me before I could respond, pulling me out of the truck. He slung me over his shoulder and spun around a few times. I gripped his shoulder so tightly, I was afraid I would draw blood.
“Put me down,” I said through another fit of laughter.
“You want down?” Dylan’s hands skimmed my legs, his fingers raking over my skin in a hot caress. I stopped laughing, catching my breath as I paid attention to his every move. He slipped one of my shoes off and then the other, walking back over to the truck and throwing them inside the cab.
“What are you doing?”
“You wanted down,” he said. “I don’t think you’d want to get those fancy shoes dirty.”
He wasn’t really going to set me down in the mud, was he?
He sure as hell was.
He lowered me off his shoulder, my body sliding down his until my bare feet landed in slimy mud. I gasped, kicking up one of my heels and cringing at how
gross it felt against my skin.
“I cannot believe you just did that.” I held onto his arms to steady myself. When I was sure I had my balance, I turned and worked my way back to the truck. As I took a step forward, one of my feet snagged in the muck, and down I went. I landed on my butt and cringed when I felt the squishiness beneath my body.
Dylan’s laughter filled my ears, enraging me. Didn’t he know how expensive my clothes were? I twisted around and eyed him with disdain. Before I knew it, I had a handful of mud and I was throwing it at him. It landed on his left leg, splattering against his already dirty jeans.
“Oh, someone wants to play, huh?” He bent down and dipped his hand in the mud.
“What?” I gasped. “No, you better not.”
I braced my hands on the ground and worked to get my legs beneath me, slathering them in more dirt. I had never been this filthy in my life. My Chloe shorts and Calvin Klein silk top were ruined. When I was finally on my feet again, Dylan walked over to me and ran his dirty finger down the bridge of my nose. He smiled and my anger disappeared at the playfulness in his eyes. All I could think about was getting him back. Bending down, I grabbed two handfuls of mud and flung it at him. Some landed on his face while the other hit his shoulder. I took off running when he starting getting more sludge. We chased each other around the truck, launching handfuls of mud at one another. Dylan dipped down, disappearing from my view. I lifted myself up on my tiptoes, craning my neck to see the other side of the truck when he came running around the back end. I squealed and took off toward the front, laughing.
Dylan’s arms encircled my waist, and I let out another excited shriek, falling into fits of giggles. I felt his chuckles against the side of my throat as his arms held me tighter against his chest. I had traveled to many places: Italy, Europe, Mexico, but my favorite place in the world was right where I was—in Dylan Crawford’s arms. Or maybe that was the sputtering of my heart clouding my judgment.
“You are something else, Brooke Kingsley.”
Turning Home (A Small Town Novel) Page 6