The Reeducation of Savannah McGuire

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The Reeducation of Savannah McGuire Page 14

by Heidi McLaughlin


  “Did you ever read them?”

  I shake my head as my fingers move along the wall. Tyler needs to know this about me. He needs to know the real me. Not the girl that was sent to her Uncle’s ranch for breaking the rules. Not the girl who wore cowboy boots and cleaned horse stalls. That wasn’t me.

  “No time,” I tell him. “There were parties and social gatherings that had to be attended. Shopping had to be done. Teachers didn’t care about our homework, just who our parents were. The firm my mom works for, they’re the legal council for the school so I had a free pass. A bunch of us did. There was the Senator’s daughter, the CEO’s son. It didn’t matter as long as the school saw the money.

  “So we partied, and we went to clubs. Everyone slept late on Saturdays except for me. I’d wake up and take the train out of town while all my friends slept it off. I’d find a farmer’s market and just spend hours and hours looking at everything. My mother hated everything I brought back and so did my friends,” I trail off. He knows about my so-called friends. The moment shit went south they bailed and acted like they didn’t know me.

  “I like your room. It’s different, but I like it.”

  “It’s me. The pink room with the box full of My Little Ponies isn’t me. I’m sure it could’ve been had I never moved, but New York is so cultural, so diverse. One weekend, I sat in Central Park and listened to an African band play for hours. I just sat there and when I got home my mom was livid because the maid hadn’t shown up yet and she needed coffee.” I laugh even though it’s not funny. If the maid wasn’t there, it was my responsibility to keep her focused on her job and if that meant she needed coffee, I was to get it for her.

  “You could –”

  “Don’t say it,” I say, as I step in front of him and put my fingers to his lips. “I don’t want to talk about why you’re here. I just want to be with you. I just want to hold you, touch you.” My fingers trail down the front of his shirt pulling each button. “Tomorrow I want to be like those other couples I see at the Eiffel Tower, kissing in the sunset. Can you give me that?”

  “I’ll give you anything you ask for, Savannah,” Tyler says as he walks us backwards toward my bed. “I think you know that.” He stops when I fall onto my bed. He finishes unbuttoning his shirt, rolling it over each shoulder one at a time. His sculptured chest beckons as I let my lips press against this skin.

  Tyler lifts my chin, pulling me away from him. “Where’s the lady you live with?”

  I sit back on my bed and pull him with me. We both lay on our sides facing each other. I have to put a pillow between us because his chest is distracting and I need to focus on him and not his body.

  “When I left you at the airport, I wanted to turn around. I wanted to go back to you and ask you to take me away. It didn’t matter where, just away from Texas, New York, even here, but I knew you wouldn’t leave the ranch and I could never bring myself to be selfish enough to ask. So I got on the plane because that’s what my mother wanted.

  “When I arrived, I was in the city I had only dreamt about...the city I wanted to be in even though I had only seen it through pictures. My first weekend, as you know, was everything I thought it would be. But then the workweek came around and Alexis disappeared. She works more than my mother does and I never see her. I’m alone again at dinner and on weekends, left to figure life out on my own.”

  I’m ruining Tyler’s surprise with my less than stellar parental life. I can see the anguish in his eyes as he keeps eye contact with me. His touch is soft as he pushes my hair behind my ear. I turn slightly and kiss his palm as it rests on my cheek.

  “What are your dreams now, Savannah?”

  I close my eyes as tears start to flow. He’s my dream, but I’m not ready. I’m not yet eighteen and have always said I don’t want to end up like my mother. What if I grew to resent Tyler when he’s been nothing but good to me? I’m not sure I’d be able to live with myself.

  Then there’s the ranch. He loves it. I outgrew it. One of us would have to make a sacrifice and I’m not sure I can do that.

  “I’m not sure my dreams are worthy of what dreams should be,” I tell him.

  “Everyone’s dreams should be followed.”

  “What if they hurt the ones you love?”

  He knows what I’m talking about and doesn’t pull away knowing that we could end here. “If you love someone, you let them follow their dreams and hope that eventually their dreams lead them back to you.”

  “When did you get so smart?”

  “I’m not Savannah, I’m just scared of losing you forever, so I’m willing to let you go in hopes you’ll come back to me in the end.” Tyler trails his hand down my side until it’s gripping my hip. “I know we’re different, but we haven’t always been. I know I can make you happy if you give me the chance.”

  “And what if I can’t make you happy?”

  “Impossible,” he says, as he kisses my nose.

  “Tyler…”

  He stops what I’m about to say by sealing my lips with his. The pillow separating us is thrown across the room and before I can catch my breath I’m under him. Tyler pulls away, but not before grinding into me.

  “I didn’t want you to think I came here just for sex, but I’ve missed you too much and seeing you… well, shit, I’m going to sound like Jeremiah here and tell you that you’re just too damn hot and I’m horny as hell.”

  I can’t help but laugh. “So what you’re saying is you like me?” I ask, thrusting back.

  “A little more than like,” he says as he leans back on his knees, pulling me with him. He pulls at the hem of my shirt, bringing it over my head and unclasping my bra as soon as my shirt is off.

  “More than like?”

  “Mhm,” he mumbles as he places kisses over my breasts. He looks at me as he pulls away. “I’m in love with you Savannah. I’ve been in love with you since before I knew what love was. I’m so in love with you that I’ll do anything you ask of me.”

  “Is that so?”

  Tyler nods, pulling his t-shirt up and over his head. His abs are on full display and much more defined than I remember. I can’t resist the urge to touch them as my finger starts to trace each curve, valley and dip along his abdomen.

  “You’ve been working out?” I look up quickly, waiting for an answer to my question.

  Tyler nods again. “I have nothing but time on my hands right now.”

  My finger stops at his belt for a brief second before I give it a tug. As soon as it’s free, it dangles there, the metal pieces clanking against each other and echoing throughout my room.

  “We should turn on some music and lock the door.”

  Tyler agrees and goes to the door while I turn on my iPod. The music is classical, and he looks at me questioningly. I raise my eyebrow and eye his pants before looking back at him. He laughs and slowly unbuttons his jeans, one painstakingly slow button at a time. I swallow when his bulge pushes through from its own eagerness to come out.

  “You have… um, quite the package there,” I say, barely able to spit it out before I start to laugh.

  “What the… have you been secretly talking to Jeremiah?” he asks, as he shimmies out of his jeans. He stands there in front me, clad only in boxer briefs with his hands on his hips. “I think you need to get undressed.”

  He grabs my ankles, pulling me toward him. I giggle, but quickly use my hand to cover my mouth. Even though Alexis isn’t home, the last thing I want is for our neighbors to say they heard noises coming from my room. Instead of taking my shorts off, he kisses my bare stomach, moving softly along the waistband and around my belly button sending a spark of fire right to where I want him... where I need him.

  I clumsily work at getting my shorts off while Tyler’s mouth makes love to my stomach. He has me moving any which way to get him to move south. He smiles, teasing me with his tongue. I sigh loudly when I feel his fingers grip the sides of my underwear, swiftly taking them off before he removes his own.

>   Tyler moves toward me, causing me to back up. He hovers, his naked body lining up with mine.

  “Sometimes I think I’m dreaming when I look at you.”

  “Why would you say that?” I ask cupping his cheek and letting my fingertips play with his hair.

  His answer comes in the form of a kiss, a deep penetrating one that lets me feel what he means. My fingers tangle in his hair as our tongues move against each other. My legs spread, inviting him to center himself, showing him that I want this. Tyler rocks on his knees, the tip of his erection rubbing against my clit. Even the lightest sensation is causing the heat to rise in my body. Instinct causes my hips to buck. Knowing he’s so close is unbearable. I grip his cock, stroking him as he moves above me.

  Tyler tugs at my lip when I set him at my core. His eyes meet mine asking if I’m ready. He should know that I’m ready for anything when it comes to him. Someday I’ll be able to tell him that, but until then, I can show him that he has every part of me. I raise my hips, meeting him half way.

  The gentle way he presses into me causes my back to arch. Tyler pulls out, only to enter again. He feels weightless against my skin as he sets our rhythm, pumping in and out. The annoying squeak of my mattress is a turn on and I dig my nails into his lower back, pushing him harder into me.

  Tyler peppers me with kisses as our slick bodies move against each other. He hitches my leg over his shoulder, changing positions. Our tempo increases, the pressure building for me as he picks up the pace. My leg is dropped, and he rears back on his knees, gripping my hips to meet his thrusts.

  I scream out, with a stern reminder to be quiet, but that doesn’t last when he rubs my sensitive clit. My headboard slams against the wall, for sure alerting the neighbors of what’s going on. Right now I don’t care because the tightening of my walls around his cock is the best feeling ever.

  “Savannah… shit… oh fuck…” his words are said breathlessly as he dives into me without reservation. I take all of him as he lands on me, pounding hard until he’s reached his release. He moans, twitching with an aftershock while he kisses my shoulder and neck.

  “I’m not trying to ruin the moment, but I think that was better than our first time.”

  “Every time with you is like our first time,” I tell him with a kiss. We’re going to have to have a lot of first times before he leaves. They’re going to need to be enough until I see him again.

  Tyler

  Cowboys don’t belong in Paris or maybe they do and I just need to find a way to fit in. After one of the best night’s sleep I’ve had in a long time, I’m a tourist. This is only after we had to stop and buy me some decent tennis shoes to compensate for the amount of walking we’re doing today. Savannah said as comfortable as my boots are, they’re no match for the streets of Paris. She would know by the way she’s dragging me around.

  We slept in, or at least that’s what I assumed until she begged me not to make a peep. She was waiting for Alexis to leave before we got up to start our day. It pained me to think I put her in that position and suggested that I get a hotel for the remainder of the week. She refused, saying she wasn’t leaving my side. I really want her to remember that when I get on a plane and she’s left standing there, waving goodbye. She knows it doesn’t have to be like this.

  Meeting Zach for lunch wasn’t high on my list of things to do, but after spending an hour or so with him I’m pleased that Savannah had him to hang out with. This is his last day in Paris and as he told Savannah so, I watched for any sign that I was, in fact, intruding on something between them. There weren’t any, much to my relief. As much as I hate to admit it, there was a nagging feeling inside telling me she wanted to be with him. He’s far worldlier than I am.

  And now we stand on a cobblestone path surrounded by Claude Monet’s flowers. We toured the do-not-touch-anything-house and marveled at all his paintings just like the other tourists next to me. I’m a simple guy and honestly don’t get it. He painted some pictures, they’re nice, but to have your house turned into a museum seems to be a bit much. Of course, if this were John Wayne’s house, I’d be happier than a pig in shit. I’m slowly learning that I have to give in order to take from her and right now I’d give her the damn world if it meant she’d come home with me.

  Broaching the subject of returning to Texas ain’t going to be an easy one. The timing has to be right and I have to make sure not to ruin anything special she has planned. This is where I wish I had Jeremiah’s courage. He’d blurt it and not worry about the consequences. Maybe that’s why he doesn’t do relationships. He’s not the tiptoe around type of guy. Maybe that’s why we get along so well.

  “Aren’t the flowers so pretty?”

  The dumbass cowboy in me wants to say they’re nothing but flowers. It’s not like this Monet dude created the flower. He just painted them. And not even the ones we’re looking at since those are long gone. But I can’t. That would be insensitive and I’d probably insult the people around us. So I squeeze her hand and smile. “They’re beautiful.”

  Are they? As I look around I see people taking their pictures in front of them, all smiling and happy except this one lady who is standing there looking like she’s about to die. She sneezes, not once or twice, but consecutively for something like ten times in a row. Her face is red, puffy, and she looks irritated. I’m thinking that it’s allergy season for her and this probably isn’t the best place to be.

  Savannah and I follow along with the tour guide, who is speaking English but not a version I’ve ever heard before. Every other word is French, or some self made word because he can’t remember the English equivalent. Listening to him makes me realize that if Savannah and I are to be together and she wants to travel, we must visit English-speaking countries because I want to learn about what I’m seeing.

  I pay attention when Savannah asks a question and make mental notes to plant flowers around my house. When I start thinking about my house, I start thinking that I could make it a home for her. Put up a fence, build an addition and maybe plant some trees for privacy. The thought of her living across the way at her Aunt and Uncle’s is nice, but I want her with me. She’ll be eighteen soon, she can do whatever she wants. I’m praying that whatever that is, she’s considering having me be a part of it. The five-year age difference is nothing to me now. It’s just a number. Just like the years that kept us apart.

  Making her life better is what I want to be able to do for her. Savannah needs a family. She needs to know and feel like people care about her. Her mother took that away from her when they left Texas. The promises of visits never happened, and we were soon missing everything going on in her life. If they had visited, I don’t think she and I would be in Paris right now. Or maybe we would, and I wouldn’t be worrying about how I’m going to convince her to come home with me.

  We follow the crowd back to the bus, except we don’t get on it. We didn’t actually pay for the guided tour; we sort of just blended in. And while they’ll get a comfortable ride to their next stop, we’re heading back to Paris on the train. I actually don’t mind. Walking alone, with only Savannah to occupy my mind is perfect.

  I never thought I’d want to be in love again after Annamae. Everything that she did gave me pause. Annamae convinced me that I could live both lives: the rancher and the socialite’s husband. Being away from her during the week is what led her to start lying and cheating. Rufus was there, weaseling his way into my role in her life. I should thank him because I have a feeling I would’ve been the one to lie and cheat the moment I laid eyes on Savannah.

  I always thought my mom was crazy with her “You’re meant to be with Savannah” talk. This came up every time Annamae would mention marriage. My mom didn’t like her, but she loves Savannah, even if she hasn’t seen her in years.

  There’s a field of flowers along our walk and even though it’s probably illegal, I stop and pick one.

  “What are you doing?” Savannah looks up and down the road for oncoming vehicles, but can’t
hide her giggle.

  “Well, as we’ve been walking and looking at flowers all morning I realized that something has been missing.” I slide the white and pink flower, the kind I have no idea what it is, into her hair just behind her ear.

  “What if this is part of Monet’s garden?”

  I look around and shrug. “So what? He’s long gone and won’t miss a single flower. Besides, it was screaming at me that it needed to be in your hair.”

  “It was, huh?” Her hands fist my shirt as she brings me closer.

  “It was. I know it’s not possible, but you’re even more stunning with this little flower in your hair. Your eyes are brighter and your cheeks are pinker.” I want to immediately take back every stupid cheesy thing I just said. That’s not me. I can talk about tractors, hay and horses. I’m not romantic. It’s likely my downfall, but looking at Savannah now tells me I’m wrong. The adoration in her eyes is telling me everything I just said is right.

  “Tyler… you make me feel special and wanted.” Her eyes glisten, making me feel like crap.

  “Don’t cry.”

  “Happy tears, I promise.” Her lips press against mine as images of rolling around in the field behind us tease me of what could be if we were home.

  “What’s next on our list?”

  “The Eiffel Tower. I want to hold you with the clouds behind us and the lights of the tower illuminating us while we kiss.”

  “Then off to the tower we must go!”

  Savannah

  The sun is setting and I’m on the second floor of the Eiffel Tower again, this time with the man that I love. He’s standing next me, letting the breeze blow through his hair. I take out my phone and snap a quick picture while his eyes are closed. Not only do I plan to look at it repeatedly, but I also want to show him that he once did have fun in a foreign country.

 

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