God, I loved her laugh. It was real—deep enough that you knew she meant it. Not fake and tinny like some girls. It made me wish I could repeat whatever it was I’d done just to hear it again. “Maybe after dinner, we’ll go together,” I said, earning a chuckle.
“I’m in,” she said.
The waitress returned, and Summer ordered the “country plate,” whatever that was. “I’ll have the same,” I said as I handed my menu back.
“You like country food?” Summer asked.
“I like food. I don’t discriminate on which kind.”
Another laugh. Score.
“So, what’s the story with you two?” I asked.
“Who?”
“You and Casey. You guys have been friends your whole life?” I’d heard the story from him but I wanted her version. Partly to hear her talk and partly because I felt compelled to know this girl.
She nodded and sipped her water. I stared at her mouth. “Casey’s parents were killed in a car accident when he was five. Frank was named in the will for custody so he brought Casey home to Grayson. The two have been here ever since.”
“Frank’s his uncle?”
“Yeah, his dad’s brother, but Frank officially adopted Casey a year after the accident, so he’s been like a parent.”
“Wow, that’s pretty great on Frank’s part. A single guy taking a kid on like that with no experience.”
“Frank’s rough around the edges but he’s a sweetheart,” she said. “And he loves Casey like a son.”
“And you guys aren’t related? I heard you call him ‘Uncle Frank’ the other day.”
“Frank and my dad have been best friends their whole life. Grew up here together. He’s like family.”
“And Casey’s always been like your brother?” I pressed. I was fairly certain there weren’t any feelings between them, but I had to be sure I wasn’t walking into the middle of something I had no business getting between. So far, every comment and expression I’d seen from Casey had been nothing more than sibling-like affection, but I needed to be one hundred percent sure Summer felt the same.
She scowled at that. “Being an only child, I can’t say for sure. If you mean he drives me crazy and plotting ways to torture him is one of my favorite hobbies, then yes, he’s like my brother.”
I laughed, relieved that my assessment of them had been correct, and sat back, allowing the waitress to set a steaming plate of food in front of me. The aroma hit my senses and I inhaled appreciatively. “If this tastes as good as it smells, I’ll take back my original assessment of the place,” I said.
“Mmm.” Summer took a bite and closed her eyes and I had to think about seven different ways to kill a cat. I desperately wanted to be that food. Or capable of some skill that would make her look that way about me. I scooped up a forkful of sweet potatoes and shoveled it in before I could say something to that effect.
The rest of the meal passed with small talk and me eating my words—literally—about the quality of food being served in a place that had hub caps hanging above their restroom doors. “I stand corrected. Sadie’s is pretty good,” I told Summer as we left. She beamed at me, waved to the waitress, and led the way to the truck.
“There’s something refreshing about a guy who can admit he’s wrong,” she said as we got on the road.
I glanced over, mouth open, ready to throw a smart-ass retort back, but the words died. She’d rolled her window down and leaned over so that her right arm hung in the open air, palm open and flat as her hand surfed the wind. Tendrils of chestnut hair flew as they danced around her face. The breeze caught the edges of her dress, teasing it a few more centimeters up her tanned thighs. How was it possible her legs extended so far up her body?
And her smell—even with the window down it got to me. Something musky and flowery, though I couldn’t place it. Sad for a guy with a degree in plant life. Every time it hit me, I stopped and tried to place it, but before I could, it was always followed by something foreign and exotic. I’d never smelled anything—or anyone—like it.
“Are you trying to figure a way to backtrack?” she prompted.
She looked over. I’d been quiet too long.
“What?” she prompted.
Shit. And now she’d caught me staring. I forced my eyes back to the road. This girl was like black magic. And I was already under her spell.
I concentrated on the words spoken—not the picture of the girl who’d said them. There. My brain was working again. “I’m just trying to memorize this moment so that when you forget it later, accusing me of perfection, I can point out I am, in fact, not.”
She snorted. “Don’t hold your breath.”
Could a snort be cute? Had I ever thought so before? Pretty sure this was a first.
When I made the turn onto a side road, Summer’s brows rose, though she didn’t look particularly upset at not being driven straight home. “Are you lost?”
“I haven’t found Jesus if that’s what you mean.”
“I didn’t know you were looking for him.”
I laughed. “Touche.”
Thick woods closed in around us and the road narrowed. Summer cocked her head at me, the filtered light throwing shadows over her features. “Is this the part where you tell me phase two of our date is to join the secret group of devil worshippers in the woods behind your house?”
“Only if it means you’ll dance naked in front of a fire.”
“That’s witches. Not Satanists.”
“True. And I believe in magic way more than I believe in Hell.”
“You believe in magic?” she asked, her tone turning serious as Darla bounced over a pothole.
I gave her a sideways look. “You know, most girls would’ve asked me why I don’t believe in Hell.”
She shrugged. “I’m not most girls. Hell seems easy.”
“And magic doesn’t?”
She held her bottom lip between her teeth, something I’d seen her do when she was unsure of herself. “Magic seems like something you’d have to experience to believe.”
“No way. You’ve got it backwards. Credendo Vides.”
“What is that?”
“Latin. It means believing is seeing. It was my senior quote.”
“Believing is seeing,” she repeated. There went the lip between the teeth again. I waited, knowing she needed time to let it all process. I could picture the wheels turning in her mind, like cogs in a clock. This girl was all logic, all black and white. What I’d just said was probably so far out of left field—
“I like it. It means anything is possible as long as you believe it first.”
I smiled. “Now you’re getting it.”
“Like magic,” she added.
“Like magic,” I agreed, making the next turn.
I slowed, remembering how the pavement ran out and the road turned to dirt up ahead. I’d only been back here a few times when I’d first moved to town. Back then, the road had been dry. It must’ve rained a few times since. Just ahead where the pavement ran out, the road was riddled with potholes, same as before. Only this time, they were filled with water. Deep grooves left behind by the tires of the last visitor were also filled with water. Or, more specifically, mud. In fact, there wasn’t much road that wasn’t mud.
We hit the first large pothole and the truck bounced hard before I managed to pull Darla to a stop. “Hang tight,” I said, throwing an arm around the back of the seat and twisting around for a better view as I hit reverse.
“What are you doing?” Summer asked.
“Change of plans.”
“What was the original plan?”
“This road comes out near the edge of the mountain. It’s a killer view of the sunset.”
“Well, why are you turning around?” she pressed.
I glanced at her, questioningly. “Did you miss the fact that the road is full of yesterday’s rain?”
“So?” she shrugged.
“So … it’s a mess.”
“And you don’t want to get Darla dirty?”
“Not exactly. It would be really bumpy.”
Her brows shot up. “You’re worried about me?” I didn’t answer and she crossed her tanned arms over her chest. “Stop the truck,” she ordered.
“What? Why?” I braked to a hard stop, concerned at the sharpness in her tone. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong. I want to go see the sunset.”
“It’s too muddy.”
“Would you do it if I wasn’t here?”
“Probably,” I admitted.
“So, you’re turning back because, what? Because I’m a girl? Because I might … get dirty?”
“Maybe.”
Her expression darkened and she smiled devilishly. “I thought you said you wanted me to be dirty.”
Holy Mother … I tried to swallow but it stuck in my throat. My tongue grated like sandpaper. There was something about a proper girl talking dirty … What was I supposed to say to that? I cleared my throat. “Sunset it is.”
I put the truck back into “drive” and we sped forward.
“So, we’re not going to hang out with devil worshipers?” she asked as we bumped and jostled our way through the puddles.
“Sorry to disappoint.”
She lowered her lashes and her smile turned shy. “You haven’t disappointed me at all,” she said.
The truck bounced and I had to jerk the steering wheel hard to avoid an oak that’d grown too close the road. It saved me from having to respond. A good thing because we’d just gone from innocent to dirty and back fast enough to give me whiplash. I had no idea which one to respond to first. If at all.
Conversation was impossible with the way the truck jolted and splashed over the road as I took us up the wooded hillside. I wasn’t sorry for it either as I stole glances of Summer’s chest bouncing up and down in that gauzy little dress. I was just able to recognize a green bra through the fabric.
I shifted in my seat and forced my eyes back on the road. Any more of that and I wouldn’t be able to walk once we reached our destination.
Up ahead, the road wound hard to the left. I slowed to a stop, knowing it dead ended just beyond the turn. Sure enough, as we rounded the bend, the trees abruptly gave way to reveal the prettiest overlook I’d found since my arrival.
“I didn’t even know this was here,” Summer said, staring out at the rolling hills below the cliff’s edge.
I sat back, feeling a little proud of myself. I’d been unsure when I’d picked this after-dinner activity. We weren’t sixteen and I didn’t want her thinking I’d brought her up here to make out or something. Not that I was opposed to the idea, but Summer deserved a little more finesse than that.
“It’s a good spot. As yet, undiscovered by the locals as far as I can tell.”
“How did you find it?” she asked.
“Hiking,” I said.
“Hiking?” She finally turned to me, her nose wrinkling.
I chuckled. “Yes. Hiking. Walking for fun. In nature.”
“I know what it is. Can’t say it’s my favorite. I’d much rather experience nature on the back of a dirt bike or from the seat of a tractor. Something that travels faster than my feet.”
“You like speed?”
“I like the practicality of covering more ground in less time.”
Why wasn’t I surprised? “I like spending the extra time. It allows you to see it up close.”
Something flickered in her expression and disappeared before I could catch it. She seemed to change her mind at the last minute, as if she’d been about to say something different. “I’ll have to take your word for it. You’ve seen a lot of places?” she asked.
She’d held something back. I decided to let it pass. For now. “A few,” I answered. “This is the first place I’ve stayed in the south. And nowhere up north yet. That’s why I’m doing South Dakota next. A friend of mine did some camping in the Dakotas last year. Says the sunsets are beautiful. Says the sky’s so big and close, it feels like you can reach right out and streak your hand across the colors.”
“The sky isn’t actually bigger,” Summer said, a touch of irritation in her voice. “It just looks that way because the land is flatter.”
“Perception is everything, isn’t it?”
“No. Perception is about making people see what you want, not what really is.”
Ah, we were getting closer to whatever it was she’d held back. “And when it comes to Summer Stafford, what really is?”
I hadn’t meant for the question to feel so heavy, but it was out there. The air grew thick between us. Our eyes locked. I could see the question turning over in her mind. She intended to answer, but she hadn’t yet settled on how much to share. And even with the serious discussion between us, she kept glancing at my mouth.
“That’s a great question. When I figure it out, I’ll let you know,” she said finally.
I could kiss her right now and she’d let me. But after what she’d just said, it would be taking advantage. I wasn’t the guy who played on weakness. But dammit, the way she looked right now with all her emotions and uncertainty on display, I couldn’t do nothing.
“Come on,” I said, shoving my door open and climbing out. I ignored the way my hard leather shoes squished against the wet ground.
“What are we doing?” she asked, following my lead and exiting the truck.
Her feet made a squishing sound as she landed, much louder than my own. I froze, waiting for her reaction. I expected her to shriek or curse or something involving a demand to be driven home but after a beat of silence, she picked her foot up, inspected it, and laughed.
I rounded the truck and caught sight of her feet buried in mud to her ankles. Her sandals had disappeared under the brown goo. The sight of her, top half arranged to perfection, bottom half splattered and muddy—both halves sexy as hell—undid me. I grinned.
“You think this is funny?”
“Yes. No. It’s—”
A mudball the size of my fist hit me square in the chest, leaving a dark stain on my newly purchased shirt.
For a moment, I was too shocked to answer. Partly because she’d actually hit me but, mostly, her unexpected playfulness threw me. I went with it. “That’s how it’s going to be, huh?”
In answer, she slid out of her shoes and scooted around the hood, a wicked gleam in her eye. I backtracked to the tailgate. We crouched at the same time and gathered a fistful of ammo.
I stayed low as I crept around to the passenger side, looking for movement between the tires. I caught sight of her feet pointed in the opposite direction and smiled to myself. Too easy, I thought. Then I straightened and cocked my arm back.
My aim was off. I’d gone for her hand, hoping to knock free whatever fistful she had ready. Instead, I hit her in the thigh. The mud left a rounded print on her smooth skin. She shrieked and launched her own handful at me. It came apart in midair, flinging small chunks across my arms and stomach.
Hands empty, she darted away and I gave chase.
I reached out, intending to lift her up and throw off her aim. My foot stuck, momentarily holding me in place. I wrenched my ankle free but the shoe didn’t come with it. I stumbled, thrown off balance by the unexpected feeling of my socked foot sinking into four inches of mud. My arm closed around her waist and both of us went down.
Chapter Sixteen
Summer
“Life’s more fun when it’s spontaneous.” –Ford O’Neal
My dress was ruined. That was my first thought, and I wasn’t sorry. I hadn’t done something this silly since I was a kid—and never on a date. The simplicity of the fun made it somehow charming. And ridiculous. And I couldn’t stop laughing.
Mud was everywhere. I was pretty sure I had it in my ears. I tried to care, but it wasn’t happening. This was the most fun I’d had in … I couldn’t remember. I hadn’t planned a single part of this date and from the looks of things, it’d spiraled into something ev
en Ford hadn’t anticipated and it felt damn good.
Laughter bubbled up, sticking in my chest when my breath whooshed out as Ford landed on top of me.
“Shit, I’m so sorry,” he said, his hands wrist-deep in muck as he tried to brace his weight and lift himself off of me.
“It’s okay,” I said, breathless from the fall.
The expression on his face as he lay over me was pure horror. I was pretty sure he’d expected a different reaction than the smile I gave him. Taking advantage, I scooped mud into my hands where they rested at my sides. I kept my smile in place and my eyes on his, hoping he hadn’t noticed my covert movements. When I’d gathered a good layer, I brought my hands to his face and pressed them to his cheeks, slowly smearing downward.
Ford went perfectly still and I wondered if I’d gone too far. Very slowly, his hands came up and pressed against my neck, smearing a layer of mud down my throat and onto my shoulders.
“Now we’re even,” he said with a grin.
My pulse sped. My skin tingled where his fingers trailed. He noticed my reaction and slowed, taking his time as his hands travelled down the length of my arm. Somewhere along the way the movement turned sensual, the mud forgotten—or maybe it only added to the moment. When he reached my hands, he took them in his own and lifted them until my arms were locked loosely around his neck. Then, he let go and trailed his hands up my shoulders and throat, stroking my cheek and tangling in my hair.
He leaned closer, but it wasn’t fast enough for my tastes. I raised my head and brought my lips to his, meeting him halfway. His mouth was warm and hard against mine, but it wasn’t adequate. I wanted more. I parted my lips and let my tongue skim the inside of his lip. He pressed down, crushing his mouth to mine. It was empowering, knowing that small act on my part had removed some sort of barrier. I wondered what else he was holding back—and if I had the power to unleash it.
I tightened my arms around his neck, running my fingers through his hair. I could feel the dirt and mud I left behind but it didn’t matter. Somehow, it made it hotter being out here with him like this. Almost as if the layer of mud had become a mask to hide behind, I could pretend to be a braver version of myself. Someone sexier with fewer inhibitions.
A Risk Worth Taking Page 12