Then He Kissed Me: A Cottonbloom Novel

by Laura Trentham

  The two men walked from the storage area, their heads close, laughter trailing faintly to them. It dried up when Jack noticed Ms. Leora. He quick-stepped toward them. “What’s going on? It’s Nash, isn’t it?”

  Ms, Leora’s hands tightened on her pocketbook, the patent leather squeaking. Tally pointed at Jack. “Apparently, your son has set up a rematch with Heath. Either of you know about this?”

  Reed mouthed a curse and ran both hands over his hair while Jack shook his head and said, “I had a feeling something was going on, but no, he didn’t mention it.”

  “To me either,” Reed said. “Told him to steer clear of Heath and his crew.”

  “If not here, where would they go?” Tally asked. The four of them exchanged glances, but no one had anything to offer.

  Tally slid her phone out of her back pocket and hit Sawyer’s name.

  “What’s up, Sis?” Sawyer’s voice was teasing but tired.

  “Do you know anything about Nash and Heath having a rematch tonight?”

  “Nope. Haven’t heard anything.”

  She rubbed her forehead. “Any ideas where they would go? Another gym, maybe?”

  “Sit tight. Let me see what I can find out.” He disconnected, and Tally tapped the phone against her chin. Without anyone having his back, things might end very badly for Nash. Hadn’t he learned the hard way that Heath didn’t follow the rules?

  Her phone buzzed, and she bobbled it before regaining control and hitting the button. “Tell me you found something out.”

  “I did.” Her brother sounded grim, which threw some wood on the anxious fire making her muscles twitch. “Get down to my place. We’ll have to take my truck.”

  “They’re out in the swamps?” She tried to massage the lump out of her throat.

  “Not quite that dire, but we might need four-wheel drive.”

  “On my way.” She hit the red end button.

  “I’m coming with you,” Jack said.

  “Reed, can you lock up and then walk Ms. Leora to her car?” Tally was halfway to the door.

  “Tallulah.” Her name quivered out of Ms. Leora’s throat. “Will you call and let me know?”

  Tally almost gave the woman a hug, but settled on patting her shoulder. “I will. He’ll be fine. I’ll make sure of it.” The confidence in her voice felt false.

  She and Jack made the drive to Sawyer’s farmhouse in relative silence. She parked by the willow tree and ran up the steps.

  Sawyer met her on the porch, truck keys in hand. “Let’s hit it.”

  He and Jack exchanged brief greetings while they piled into Sawyer’s truck. She took the middle, straddling the gearshift. “Where are they?”

  “A track of land out in the boonies where we used to have bonfires and party in high school.”

  “You mean out behind old man Benson’s cotton field?”

  Sawyer side-eyed her. “How would you know?”

  “Puh-lease. I’m surprised we didn’t run across each other at some point or other.”

  He harrumphed, but amusement superseded any disapproval.

  They were silent the rest of the way. The truck rocked back and forth through washed-out ruts, the headlights illuminating recent tracks of other tires. She gripped the edge of the dashboard. Heath and his buddies could gang up on Nash and pulverize him. Who would stop them? She scooched on her seat as if she could move them along faster.

  Dim light shone through the trees. The bonfire outlined a dozen or more people milling around and a wall of backs on one side. Yells carried on the air. Sawyer pulled to a stop along a row of mud-splattered trucks. As soon as feet hit the ground, she ran.

  By the time she squeezed through the wall of backs, she was out of breath from exertion and fear.

  Nash and Heath circled one another, both bare-chested, bare-knuckled, and with no protective gear. Someone was going to get seriously injured. She’d taken one step into the clearing when hands grabbed her upper arms and pulled her back into the wall of bodies.

  Jack and Sawyer stood on either side of her, each with the grip strength of a bear. She twisted her arms. “Let me go. We have to stop this.”

  “We’ll stop the fight if it gets out of hand. But Nash has something to prove. To you and himself,” Sawyer whispered close to her ear.

  Heath went on the offensive first, lobbing a fist toward Nash’s face. He swerved and the hit glanced off his ear. She pulled forward again. “But—”

  “No buts.” Sawyer firmed his grip. “Let’s assume I understand men a bit better than you do. If Heath or his crew try anything, I’ll pull my Cottonbloom Parish commissioner card and break it up.”

  “You will not. Nash would never forgive you for busting in to save him.”

  Was Sawyer right? Was Heath a demon Nash had to wrestle on his own? It was like her dyslexia. Nash may have shoved her in the right direction, but she’d had to locate the courage to make that call to the center. Heath represented a shameful part of Nash’s past.

  Nash’s foot slapped against Heath’s calf, a red welt rising. Heath went in for a takedown. Nash sidestepped out, but Heath laid a couple of body blows before Nash could put distance between them.

  Tally closed her eyes. She couldn’t watch Nash be hurt. Even though Heath might be a demon from his past, responsibility weighed on her. If she hadn’t dated Heath, if she had only reported his creepy stalking to the police, if she’d been stronger, then would Nash be in a darkened field fighting him?

  The answer was a resounding “maybe.”

  “Time.”

  She opened her eyes. Bryce had stepped into the clearing and laid a hand on each man’s shoulder. Was that it?

  “You each have one minute.”

  Heath and Nash retreated to opposite sides of the makeshift ring. Tally ran toward him.

  He did a classic double take. She ran her hands up and down his sides, but nothing felt out of place. “Ms. Leora came to see me.”

  “Was she mad?”

  Tally made an exasperated sound while she checked the side of his head that took the first jab. It was too dark to tell much, but he was at least in one piece and talking. “She was worried. Same as the rest of us.”

  Sawyer and Jack pushed in behind them. “Hey, Dad.” Jack and Nash exchanged a half hug, and he and Sawyer exchanged a fist bump.

  Tally propped her hands on her hips. “I suppose this is why you’ve been avoiding me all week.”

  “Didn’t want to lie to you. Didn’t want to worry you either. Figured we could talk things out afterward.”

  “What if you get seriously hurt out here? What then?”

  “I can hold my own.” Both defiance and resentment hid poorly in his words.

  She was either with him or not. She either accepted his need to prove himself or didn’t. She circled a hand around his damp neck and planted a bracing kiss on his lips.

  “Okay, listen. Your strength is your boxing skills. Heath’s is his grappling. If he gets you on the ground, you’re toast. He’ll choke you out. But he tends to drop his left hand, especially as he tires. You might sneak some good jabs in.”

  “Why are you helping me all of a sudden?” He sounded more bemused than suspicious.

  She leaned her forehead against his, so only he could hear her words. “Because I don’t want to see your handsome face messed up, Professor. And because I love you and understand you need to do this. Even if I think it’s crazy and adolescent.”

  His lips parted and her gaze dropped to his mouth. “I love you too. Will you be waiting after it’s done?”

  “No matter what happens, I’ll wait.” Nerves pinged through her body, making her feel electrified and numb at the same time. “Where’s your inhaler? Just in case.”

  Nash fished it out of a duffle at his feet and held it out. She clutched it tight to her chest like a talisman.

  “Let’s go, asshole.” Heath bounced on the balls of his feet in the middle of the clearing, the bonfire’s light giving him a devilish
glow.

  Nash gave her one last look and circled toward Heath. She didn’t want to watch, yet couldn’t tear her gaze away. Sawyer slipped his hand around hers, and she gratefully hung on. The fight proceeded with a series of jabs and parries. The longer Nash stayed upright, the better chance he had of winning.

  Heath retreated and Nash followed, kicking at his shins. Heath didn’t try to defend against them. A tingle zinged up her spine. She had observed Heath train enough to recognize a trap. She opened her mouth and croaked a warning. It was lost in the calls and yells of the mostly male crowd.

  Heath made his move, pulling Nash first into a clinch and then moving to hang on his back, his arm tucked under Nash’s chin. Tally closed her eyes. It was a matter of seconds now. She counted to ten.

  The crowd roared. Sawyer dropped her hand and yelled encouragement to Nash. She opened her eyes to see Heath on his back, gasping for air while Nash bounced on his feet and rubbed his neck.

  “What happened?”

  Jack wore a grin. “Nash flipped him all the way over his back. Where did he learn to do that?”

  Tally blew out a slow breath. It was Reed’s signature move. The man was getting a raise. And a big hug.

  Bryce stood to the side, looking lost. Sawyer stepped between the men, putting a hand on Nash’s shoulder. “I’m calling it. Hawthorne is the winner.”

  Whoops and the buzz of conversation drowned out the night sounds. Money exchanged hands. Men crowded around Nash, pumping his hand or slapping his shoulders. No one seemed upset Heath had lost.

  Nash emerged from the crowd a dozen feet away, and their gazes met and held. She took a few steps back and turned to walk past the line of trucks to a path that led through dark woods to the river.

  He caught up with her halfway down the path, the sound of the river snaking through the trees. She kept walking until the water came into view.

  “Do you feel better now that you’ve beaten Heath?”

  “I do.”

  His brief, honest answer had her searching for words. “This fight had nothing to do with me, did it? Not really?”

  * * *

  Tally’s voice was flat, unemotional. She’d told him she still loved him during the fight, but how hurt and mad was she? One thing he’d promised himself was to tell her the truth, if he got the chance. She deserved that much.

  “I’ve been thinking about the reasons all week.”

  “Did you make a list?” This time sarcasm weighed the words.

  He had to tread carefully, and in the dark he couldn’t read her expressions to know if he was on the right path. “It wasn’t even Heath I was fighting out there. It was myself. I couldn’t come to you until it was finished.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I had to prove to myself I wasn’t the same weak kid who couldn’t stand up for himself. Once I threw the challenge out, I couldn’t back down. It would have been like all those times in high school. The logical side of me knows that sounds crazy. I’m done being scared of someone or something from my past.” He ran his hands through his hair and leaned up against a pine. The bark bit into his bare back. “I hope you can understand that.”

  “Are you going to start looking up all your high school foes and challenging them to a fight in old cotton fields?”

  The lilt in her voice made him think there was hope. “Like some caped crusader? Not a chance. But Tallulah, you’re wrong about one thing. This was about you too.”

  “How so?”

  “I had to prove to myself, to you, that I deserved you.”

  His name came to him on a whisper. Leaves crunched as she approached. He didn’t move until her hands touched his sides. He wrapped his arms around her and hauled her close, his face in her hair.

  “I have an appointment with a reading specialist tomorrow.” She leaned away from him.

  “I’m glad.” And, he was, but the sudden veer of the conversation left him confused.

  “I had to prove I deserved you too.” She sling-shot his words back at him.

  Her admission absolved him. From the outside, people might wonder what bonded the two of them. Inside, however, they had imprinted on each other too many years ago to count. No one else on earth understood him like she did. He cupped her face, wishing he could see her better. The wind had picked up around them, gusts shushing the leaves like ocean waves.

  “You know it doesn’t matter. You don’t need to prove anything to me.” He skimmed his nose alongside hers.

  “You didn’t need to beat up Heath to prove anything to me either, but I get it. Because I’m going to deal with my dyslexia mostly for me, but for you too.”

  “We deserve each other, don’t you think?”

  “I love you, Nash.” She’d seen him at his best and worst, his strongest and weakest, and she loved him.

  “I love you too, Tallulah.”

  Her weight fell into him. A franticness overtook the sweetness of the moment. Their lips went in search of each other, meeting with desperation. Heat sped through his body, lighting his nerve endings like sparklers. A soft rain overtook the wind, and droplets worked themselves through the trees, skating down his shoulders and back.

  The taste of salt on her lips cast the moment in different tones. He brushed his lips across her cheeks. “You’re crying. What’s wrong?”

  “I’m sad that we were apart for so long.”

  “It was less than a week. I didn’t want to—”

  “Not that. I’m talking about the years and years I lived without you.” Her whispered words spoke of sadness and regret and what-ifs they couldn’t change.

  He gathered her close, his heart aching for her. For them. He’d missed her too. More than he thought he could bear some days. He’d lived with the hollow place in his heart for so long, he hadn’t realized until he’d come back that she was the missing piece.

  “Maybe we had to be apart to realize how much we needed each other.”

  “I think a couple of months would have been more than adequate. Not two decades,” she said, obviously not ready to give the universe such an easy pass.

  “We both had mistakes to make before finding each other.” He kissed the tip of her nose. Past pain would always be there, but Nash was less concerned about it now. Now was the time to look to the future. And the future was full of laughter and love with this woman. “You needed to date some losers so you’d appreciate how awesome I am.”

  “You’re not that awesome.” She huffed, but her tears were gone and a small smile tipped the corners of her mouth.

  “Maybe not, but you turned out perfect. What other woman would be okay with my comic book obsession or T-shirt collection? When I saw your Superman socks, I knew I’d always loved you and would love you forever.”

  She threw her arms around his neck and pressed her mouth close to his ear. “You know, if you ask me nice enough, I would wear a Wonder Woman costume for you. And, if you’re really nice, I’ll let you take it off me.”

  “That’d better be a promise.”

  Standing by the river with a soft rain making music in the leaves, he felt the moment shift. His words meant more than silly bedroom games and were weaved by elements of their past and future. “It’s a promise.”

  Epilogue

  Tally left the gym in Jack’s capable hands to mosey over the footbridge to where Nash was trimming out the new gazebo. She’d poured two glasses of ice tea she’d brewed especially for him the night before and transferred into a gallon jug.

  He straightened from hammering a decorative scalloped wooden lattice below the rails. Lifting his T-shirt, he wiped his face. His bare chest incited lurid fantasies involving him naked, his pleasure in her hands. How many laws would they be breaking if they made out on the newly finished gazebo floor?

  He took a glass. “You’re not going to give up until you convert me back, are you?”

  “Hot tea is unnatural, Nash.” She grinned.

  He killed half in a dozen gulps without coming up f
or air. “Okay, I’ll admit, that’s refreshing. Thanks.”

  They sat side by side on the gazebo steps, the roof shading them from the noonday sun. Green shoots of grass showed in the charred ground. The resiliency of nature always astounded her. People seemed so fragile in comparison.

  “What kind of deep thoughts are going on over there?” Nash asked.

  She took a deep breath and met his warm gaze and smile. He loved her and she loved him. It had only been a few days since their declarations on the river, and although they’d spent as much time together as possible, time was fleeting. She wanted more with him. “I know it’s kind of soon to be talking about this, but do you want to move in together?”

  His smile crumpled. Not into a frown exactly, but everything about him had tensed. “Are you sure?” He sounded as if his breath had been taken away—and not in a good way.

  The old Tally would have backtracked, made excuses. Along with finding Nash, she’d found a new type of courage over the past month. Not the kind needed to climb water towers, but a courage that ran deep.

  “I don’t want to waste another minute of my life. I love you. I want to go to sleep and wake up next to you. I want to laze in bed with you and make love to you whenever I want. But if you’re not ready for that, I can wait until you are.”

  She blew out a long, slow breath and waited. He stared at her, his breath wheezing in and out.

  “Ohmygod, are you having an asthma attack?” She popped to her knees in front of him and pulled at his pockets in search of his inhaler. He never failed to have it on him.

  He grabbed one of her wrists, stilling her hands, and pulled the inhaler out. Seconds after taking a pump, his breathing eased. He pulled her closer, using the hand he held captive and pressed his lips against hers.

  “I would love to move in together. I wanted to mention it, but I was worried I’d scare you off.”

  “I’m not scared anymore. I trust you.”

  He cupped her face, his thumb stroking her cheekbone. “I trust you too, Tallulah Fournette. I guess the only question is your place or mine or somewhere altogether different.”

  “I’ve thought about it a little. My apartment isn’t anything special, and while I’ll miss Ms. Effie, I’ll see her at the gym now that I’m teaching the senior classes. Your place is small, but I like it. Plus, your father and aunt are right there.”