Under the Dusty Sky

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Under the Dusty Sky Page 3

by Allie Brennan


  Suddenly she turns and glares at me.

  “Gracie, why do you have to be such a bitch?”

  “La-cy, I’m telling Mom you said the B word.” Mason starts swimming to the edge of the pool, his small pudgy arms and legs flailing and splashing. I laugh as Lacy dives under the water and catches him before he makes it halfway to the edge.

  “She’s fast,” Bentley says. My heart gives a short burst that vibrates through my limbs.

  What is happening to me? And is this guy like a ninja or something? I pull myself together fast and lower myself into the water next to him. Our elbows are touching on the edge of the pool. Bentley shifts and breaks contact.

  “She’s the captain of the swim team. Being so tiny makes her super hydrodynamic.” I’m proud of myself when Bentley laughs, but there is something about his laugh that isn’t quite right. It’s a practiced laugh, and I have no idea what that means. It doesn’t take long before I’m distracted by a drop of water falling from his hair and landing on his shoulder. It rolls down his collar bone and slides down the center of his chest, which is covered in a light dusting of hair. I don’t even need one whole hand to count how many guys I know that have chest hair. I have no idea how I feel about it, but I’m definitely staring at it, watching the water bead weave its way back down to the pool.

  I’m wondering where I suddenly developed superhuman vision just as Lacy returns and snaps me out of my Bentley-induced coma.

  “Thanks, friend.” She rolls her eyes at me but smiles. I shrug. I’m not stupid. I know she likes touching my brother. However gross that might be…But I refuse to choose between my brother and my best friend, and they know that. Because one of them will get hurt. I will eventually have to choose if they get together because these things never last.

  ***

  I grab my T-shirt from Lacy’s car after we’re done swimming and pull it over my head, soaking it through immediately.

  “You should let me drive,” I say, and the twins both howl with laughter. I punch Archer. Bentley looks between us, the same thinking face he had on when we met.

  Archer wraps his arm around my neck and bends me over to tangle my hair and rub my head until it hurts. I scramble to get out of his grip and glare as hard as I can.

  “Yeah, not happenenin’, Gracie Marie. Didn’t go in our favor last time.”

  “You’re a jerk.”

  Asher laughs this time. Bentley’s still studying our sibling interaction.

  “He’s not a jerk, Bug. You just can’t drive.” Asher shakes his head and slides into the old truck.

  “I can sit in the back,” Bentley says, pointing to the dirt and grease covered truck bed.

  “It’s fine. Just get in.” I’m still glaring. How am I supposed to learn to drive if no one will teach me?

  Bentley slides in next to Asher, and I hoist myself up to get in. Distracted, I drop down onto Bentley’s lap hard, and he makes a choking noise. He hunches over, and I clamp my hand over my mouth.

  “Oh my god, I’m so sorry.” I lift up. My brothers are laughing at us. Asher grabs me and pulls me to him. His chest heaving in uncontrollable laughter.

  “Way to go sis. You broke your car, and now you broke Bentley’s junk.” He’s snorting he’s laughing so hard, and my cheeks feel warm. It’s a strange feeling. Blushing. It’s not something I do. Embarrassment is rare for me, and I don’t know how to deal with it so I just sink into my brother and glare.

  “Are you okay, dude?” Asher pats Bentley’s shoulder, and he forces a smile.

  “I’m good,” Bentley mutters and looks out the window.

  Getting a guy to like me has never been this hard, and this is definitely not helping. My legs are stretched out under Bentley’s and I shift so my shin rubs on his calf. He doesn’t budge, doesn’t react, like usual. I slouch down into my brother. This wobbly feeling in my stomach totally sucks.

  Maybe he doesn’t find me attractive. Maybe he has a girlfriend. I hadn’t thought about that until right now. Asher wraps his arms around me and hugs me like he used to. He leans down and rests his head against mine. I don’t like when the twins do nice things, or comfort me when they think I need it. That’s Hunter’s job. Hunter is the nice, caring one. The twins don’t do things like this, or at least I’m not used to it. Not unless it’s serious.

  “Be careful, Bug,” Asher whispers so soft I barely hear him. I glare up at him then stare at the back of Bentley’s head the rest of the way home.

  ***

  Hunter’s supposed to be home by now. I’m waiting on the porch like I’m twelve, but I miss him so much it hurts. Hunter’s the reliable one, the one who’s always there. Asher and Archer are at football practice all the time. When they aren’t, they’re working the farm. Hunter was the one we all could count on. Always.

  I see a little dust cloud in the distance, and I stand. This is one of those times when living on such a flat open stretch of land is really annoying. Rasp jumps up from my feet and takes off. That’s definitely Hunter. Rasp would know. I hold onto the post and stretch and swing as far forward as I can. The screen door slams, and I spin around. Bentley’s wearing a tight white sleeveless work shirt and faded jeans. There’s a gash in the material across the one knee.

  “Hey, Graceland.” He looks up from his cell phone and smiles at me. Suddenly I wonder about his story. I’ve never asked him where he’s from. Why he’s here on our farm. Where he’s hoping to go when he leaves us.

  “Hey.” I study him from back at my place against the porch rail. For some reason I feel incredibly awkward.

  Even though he’s smiling, his crystal eyes look at me with no emotion. He looks bored, his face slack and his lips pressed together. The smile is fake. He doesn’t want to know my story.

  Not that I want to tell him.

  He does make me want to rip my hair out, though, then scream at myself for caring. The only thing he cares about is his cell phone, because he is always on it. Whispering. Texting.

  “Excited to see your brother?” He runs his thumb over the screen of his phone, only half looking at me now.

  I shrug and lean back on the railing, my hair sliding off my shoulder and hanging behind me. I push forward and walk past him, standing on the steps and brushing against his chest with my shoulder. Slowly. I hold his gaze as I pass.

  Nothing. He’s ice. Guys are easy to read. At least they’re supposed to be.

  I’ve never had to try this hard. One hip, one lean in, one whisper, and they are like gum. Sticky and pliable and losing their flavor after ten minutes.

  But not Bentley. He either looks at me like I’m a research project or like I’m not there at all. But never the way I want him to look at me.

  CHAPTER 5

  Bentley

  I sneak past Gracie and duck behind the house while she watches for her brother. I have to take a few deep breaths to calm my body, particularly the parts of me she rubbed up against. My head falls back against the wood of the huge farmhouse.

  I don’t know if I can stay here. I don’t know if I can do this. This is exactly what I don’t need. Summer break just started, which means every day for sixty days I’ll be up against her and whatever this plan is she has for me. Although I have a pretty good idea. The smooth stroke of her leg against mine in the truck the other day told me enough. Her smoky eyes exude sex. She knows exactly how to move, how to talk, how to get a guy going, but I’m not sure she gets it. There were a lot of things that kept me from stealing her from the pool party and having my own fun with her and that amazing bikini, mostly how her father is built like a tank and could crush me. But she also reminds me of the girls back home. The girls that I’m used to. The girls I usually go for. I can’t get involved. But goddamn is she hot. And that laugh, the real one where her eyes sparkle is like a lure, pulling me in even when I know it's dangerous. Her faint accent attracts to more each time it comes out because it only happens when she’s not paying attention. It's addicting. It also makes me think that maybe th
ere might be something more to her. Maybe she’s just hiding behind those mile long legs and golden skin.

  I slide down the rough wood of the house and run my hands through my hair for the thousandth time. This is my luck. A girl looks at me like I’m something to eat, and she is the only girl on the planet I can’t, no, I shouldn’t, be with. But a distraction would be just what I need.

  No, Bentley. No. I take a slow breath to slow my mind and settle back into logic. This isn't why I came here. I don't need Gracie jumbling up my thoughts right now.

  If she knew half about my life she wouldn’t be quite so keen to be pressing up against me, smelling like apples and straw and fresh air. That part of her is not what I’m used to at all. The naturalness. That part throws me every time she gets close.

  I shake my head and stand, dusting the dirt and grass from my jeans.

  I didn’t believe Archer when he said it would be so hard to say no. Her fire is contagious, beyond irritating, because I don’t know what to do with it, but contagious.

  Unfortunately, my future’s been planned for me so I have no choice anyway. This is the downfall of always having everything at my disposal. Always being handed things has its disadvantages. Or so I’m learning. I guess it's go home and deal with my family, or stay and deal with Gracie.

  Gracie startles me as she comes around the corner. That permanent strip of bare stomach made to torment me stretches and flexes with each step. Her arm is stretched out behind her and attached to her hand is another girl, who looks my age but like she was transported here from the 1960s. Her straight brown hair, flowing floral sundress, and no shoes are proof enough.

  “Oh.” Graceland jumps, and her friend stops.

  “Uh, hey.” I smile and try to pass, but the Flower Child grabs my arms.

  “Bentley?” She says it like we’re old friends meeting on a crowded street.

  “That’s me.”

  She pulls me in and wraps her arms around me, standing on her tiptoes, and I have to bend to her height. I hug her back, mostly because I don’t know what to do with my hands.

  “Emma, proximity. Not everybody loves everything in the universe like you do,” a male voice sounds, and I peek around the corner of the house. Hunter, I presume. He’s smiling and shaking his head. It’s not irritation. His expression is pure adoration and amusement as he walks toward Emma, carrying her shoes.

  Emma drops her arms and smiles the sweetest smile I’ve ever seen. She almost glows she looks so pure and flawless. I’ve never seen someone so natural, but I guess I come from a world of fake. Emma’s tiny features bunch together on her face, and she reaches up to touch my cheeks. My eyebrows raise.

  “Something’s bothering you. I’m sorry we have intruded on your thoughts,” she says.

  I look over at Gracie and frown. She rolls her eyes.

  “It’s so annoying when she does that. You get used to it.”

  Hunter reaches us and holds out a hand. He looks more like Gracie than the twins do. The twins look identical to their dad, Carter. Lighter features, stockier build.

  I take his hand, and he laughs. He exudes kindness and honesty, which puts me off balance. I'm always waiting to be assessed, but with Hunter it doesn’t happen. He just smiles.

  “The most annoying part is she’s usually right.” He slaps my shoulder.

  Emma wraps her arms around Hunter’s waist and winks at me.

  “We’re going to catch Dad,” Gracie says over her shoulder. “Comin’?”

  Her voice tilts up into that country twang. I wonder again why she’s always trying to hide it.

  I shouldn’t want to find out. But every time she let’s it out, it gets harder to say no.

  I jog to catch up and do my best to look straight ahead and pretend I don’t notice her sweet smile and the way her hair brushes her bare shoulders as she walks.

  CHAPTER 6

  Graceland

  He hasn’t looked at me once. Not once.

  The sky’s a dusty orange, turning everything a rust color, even Rasp’s yellow-gold fur. I sit on the steps with my dog between my knees and scratch his ears before hugging him around the neck and gazing out at Bentley talking to Daddy at the barbecue.

  I’ve seen hot guys before, guys with chiseled jaws and rock hard muscles. Guys I don’t much care what’s going on behind those perfectly defined features. Guys I just want to kiss or touch or dance with, and that’s it. Like, Dermott hot.

  This is different.

  Bentley glances over at me for the first time, and I suck in a tiny breath. There’s something behind those gorgeous features, and I’m starting to want to figure out what it is. Why it looks like nothing ever phases him. Like nothing’s good enough for him. Like I’m not good enough for him. I’m starting to want to know why.

  Daddy looks over, too, and he’s laughing. I narrow my eyes. They’re talking about me. Bentley shakes his head and shoves his hands into his pockets. He turns to me and starts toward the porch. My heart speeds up with every step, and I do a full body shake to calm myself down, masking it by wiggling Rasp back and forth between my knees. His tail thumps on the wooden step.

  “May I?” Bentley points to the stairs, and I nod. He sits and leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees, and laces his fingers together. His head turns, and he watches me from behind his dark chocolate-colored hair.

  I don’t breathe, pulling Rasp tighter to my chest, as if he'll shield me from this foreign feeling.

  “Hey.” He presses his hair out of his eyes, and my ribs feel like they’re shrinking. This isn’t happening. He’s just the sexy older experienced guy that I plan on losing my virginity to and then never talking to again. I can’t be having my heart go all crazy like this.

  “Hey,” I reply.

  “So your dad thinks I’m crazy, but he said I could fix up your car and then teach you how to drive it.”

  “What?” My crazy beating heart totally switches gears. I squeal. Before I can stop myself, I let go of Rasp and fling myself at Bentley. I have no time to enjoy the way his body feels pressed to the porch under me because Rasp starts barking and growling and jumping around our heads. He’s licking at our faces with his huge tongue.

  “Rasp!” I screech and push at his huge furry body. I sit up and grab his collar just before he hops back on Bentley.

  “I take it you’re up for it then?” Bentley’s on his elbows, smiling. I nod excitedly.

  “But you have to help me fix it. I hear you’re not mechanically inclined, and your dad thinks you should know some things before he lets you drive off on your own.” Bentley’s wiping Rasp drool from his face, and I can hear Daddy laughing. His huge figure blocks the setting sun.

  “Really?” I ask him, like Bentley was lying to me. Daddy’s always busy, and after I dropped the transmission or something like that, out of my car, my brothers all refuse to let me drive theirs.

  Dad nods, and I grin a huge wide grin.

  “We’ll start tomorrow then.” Bentley’s unwavering neutral gaze goes from me to Dad, then he stands and leaves.

  “Gracie Bug,” Daddy says in his serious tone, and I shift my attention back to him.

  “Ben’s a nice guy and it’s great that he’s offered to help you get your license, but he is off limits.”

  My face drops, and Dad shifts uncomfortably.

  “Daddy!” I shriek. He’s never approached the boy talk before.

  “Off limits, Bug.” He frowns then turns to leave.

  I look over at Bentley, now talking with Hunter and Emma. Emma’s holding Hunter’s hand and running her finger up and down his forearm, making patterns and designs and tugging on his fingers. Her head is on his shoulder, and she’s off in her own world with unfocused eyes. She’s so odd, but I’m momentarily stabbed with jealousy that she can touch someone like that without caring who’s watching. I shake it off and pull my eyebrows together. One of them is going to get hurt. Love doesn’t last. So why am I jealous?

  No, it's best t
o keep it fun. To keep all that feeling stuff out. Then it doesn’t hurt when they lose their flavor.

  I catch Bentley smiling again. The illegal smile that steals my breath.

  I shake it off and focus on my plan. My plan that just got more interesting.

  Fixing my car. Bentley teaching me to drive stick.

  There are so many ways I could twist that.

  CHAPTER 7

  Graceland

  I bribed my brother with cleaning chickens if he came swimming the other day, and he’s cashing in the favor already. I’m mad about it until I find out Hunter’s taking Bentley around the farm today and giving him the boss routine. Hunter always did more work than me or the twins, and he always helped and inspected the work we did to make sure it was good.

  Hunter’s a perfectionist to the most annoying degree. I’m glaring at him while sweat pours off my face, and Bentley looks back and forth between us.

  “Hunt, it’s a chicken coop.” I throw out my arms.

  “What does that have to do with anything?” he asks.

  I can only grunt.

  Did I mention he’s stubborn? But so am I.

  “It means it’s clean enough.”

  Hunter raises an eyebrow, and I grip the shovel tighter in my crap-covered leather gloves. Bentley still glances from Hunter to me.

  “It’s not, Gracie, and you know it. I know you want to get ready for the Summer Kick-Off tonight.”

  My glare deepens, and I march up to my brother and slam the shovel handle against his chest. He lets out a puff of air and grabs the shovel before it falls.

  “You’re right, Hunter. I do need to get ready for the dance. Thanks for reminding me. An’ if yer so gawd damn good at shovelin’ crap then by all means git at ‘er.”

  I squeeze my eyes shut and shake my head. I push through the two boys and leave the coop.

 

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