Wes shakes his head and scoops me up off the ground, hugging me to him. My arms bind around his neck as I look down into his striking blue eyes. “I love you, you know that?”
I nod. “I do. I love you, too. But you better be careful, or I’ll kick your ass myself,” I whisper as I lean in for a kiss.
“All right.” He chuckles, and placing me back on the ground, hands me a piece of paper with the number thirteen printed in big black bold numbers. “Will you put it on the back of my vest?” He turns away from me.
“Why 13?” I’m not really a superstitious person, but even the number 13 has me a little weary.
“I don’t know. It’s what they gave, and it just so happens to be my favorite number.”
I attach the paper to the back of his vest, ignoring the comment about thirteen being his favorite number. It’s odd, I admit that, but to each his own, I guess. My fingers linger on the numbers as I smooth out the paper. “All good,” I say, patting his back.
“Thanks.” Wes points to a set of bleachers, and tells us that’s where we all need to sit. Just as I spin around to follow everyone, I’m pulled back into strong arms, and spun back around. “I want y’all, but especially you, sitting front and center. I want to be able to see your face when I’m on that bull. I want you to see me do what I do best. I want you to be proud of me,” Wes says, staring into my eyes with an intensity that I’ve never known or felt. My only response comes in the form of a nod. “I love you, and I’ll see you when I’m done.” With that, he leans in, kisses me one last time, and spins me back around to leave.
I’m out of breath as I take a seat between Brantley and Sarah. “You all right?” Brantley asks patting my knee.
“Yeah. It was crowded back there. I had to shove my way through just to get over here.”
The breeze that I felt when we entered the arena no longer exists. Instead, I feel like I’m suffocating. I know it’s been a while since I’ve been to a rodeo, but damn, this place is packed. Not one bleacher is empty. Some of the people are sitting while others stand. They gather in, trying to get as close as possible to the iron gates that separate us from the contenders. I fan myself with my hand to cool off, but the hot, stagnant, humid air makes my attempts useless. As my eyes continue to search the arena, a loud noise draws my attention to the chute where Wes is currently located. People surround him. I have no idea what they’re saying, but I can see them all nodding their heads. “Ladies and Gentleman! Boys and Girls! Up next is the famous PBR riding champion of 2012! Tonight, he’s riding one of the rowdiest bulls we’ve seen in a long time, Damion. With an average buck off rate of ninety-five percent, he’s one hell of a beast to hang on to!”
Before the announcer has a chance to introduce Wes’ name, the crowd is already chanting. “WESLEY ADAMS! WESLEY ADAMS! WESLEY ADAMS!”
I shoot to my feet, cup my hands around my mouth, scream, and chant along with the rest of his fans. I am proud of him, proud of my bull rider. As boots stomp against the metal bleachers, more angst builds within the arena. The metal gate to the chute springs open and out flies a very pissed off bull, and a very serious bull rider. Wes’ left arm is suspended in the air above his head, while his body twists and turns with the movements of the bull.
Damion bucks back and forth. His front hooves stomp on the dirt floor below, and then his back hooves follow. Violently, he thrashes his massive, brown body from side to side, back and forth. His hips twist with the motion as he tries his damndest to buck Wes off his back. My hands fly to mouth as I gasp when I watch the bull’s large, white horns swing with the motion, barely missing Wes’ head as the momentum of the bull swings him forward. I’m stuck, frozen in the moment. Everything around me plays in slow motion. Even the numbers on the board changing, trying to reach eight seconds, barely move. My eyes stay glued to Wes, but even the brutal force tossing his body about is sluggish. “If you are going to be with him, then this is a part of his life that you will need to accept and support.” I know it is Brantley’s voice, but it seems so distant.
My movements are languid as I turn to him, my eyes slowly blinking. He’s right. This, bull riding, is a part of Wes. It doesn’t make him who he is, but it is a part of him. Now that I’ve seen what he does for a living with my own eyes, what his passion is, can I handle it? Am I strong enough to support him? Do I have the strength to watch him get hurt, only to turn around and watch him get back on for the ride of his life again and again? Is my love for him strong enough to overcome my own fears with his occupation of choice? The only answer that comes to mind is yes! I love him enough to be with him through anything and everything. My thoughts freeze as the sound of a buzzer goes off. My eyes snap to the electronic board where the timer has stopped. The eight seconds every bull rider dreams of reaching is plastered against the clock. Immediately, my eyes fly to the arena, but there’s no sign of Wes, only the people corralling the bull into another gated area. My head whips from side to side as I search for Wes, and it’s all because I checked out for a minute, and now, I don’t know where the hell he is. “Where is he? Oh my God, did he get hurt?” My words are frantic as I continue looking for him.
“Kenleigh, it’s fin—” Brantley and Sarah say at the same time, but I cut them off.
“IT’S NOT FINE! WHERE THE HELL IS HE?” I shout at everyone and anyone who is trying to make me see reason to the situation at hand.
“I’m right here.”
That voice, his voice, makes my heart stop. Relief floods through me like a drought stricken area finally receiving that one good rainstorm it’s been seeking. My hair whips me in the face as I spin around and see Wes standing there behind me. Dirt covers his chaps. Pieces of his shirt have become untucked from his pants. I have no clue where his cowboy hat is, but I don’t give a damn because he’s here, safe. Sweat trickles down the sides of his face as I search for any cuts, scrapes, or bruises. Feeling satisfied that he doesn’t seem to be injured, I launch myself into his arms. Tears well up as I start to cry. I hold myself to him as if he might disappear. I try to listen the beat of his heart, but I can’t hear it through the damn vest that’s still secure over his chest. It’s as if I’m on autopilot. First, rip off the damn vest. Second, hear the heartbeat that calms me like nothing else. Third, make sure he has no injuries that I can’t see, and then yell at him for scaring the hell out of me. Last but not least, I need to kiss him, and tell him how much I love him, and how proud of him I am. And in that order, I do exactly that.
I lean back, and with a scornful tone, I slap his arm. “You scared the shit out of me! I thought you were hurt. Then I couldn’t see you. I couldn’t find you anywhere.”
With an arm around my waist, he brings up his other hand to the nape of my neck and presses my head into the crook of his shoulder. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize that you’d be that worried about me. I mean, I knew you were before, but not to this extent.”
I squeeze my arms tighter around his neck, just basking in the feel of his warm body pressed against mine. “But I’m very proud of you. You lasted the whole eight seconds. Well, at least I think you did. I’m so sorry that I freaked out,” I whisper. I pull, and my blue eyes find his.
“It’s okay.” A grin pulls at the corners of his lips. “Did you just say you’re proud of me?”
I nod in reassurance. “I did. And I love you. So much. You did amazing out there, but if you could try and do one little thing for me?” I make a barely there space between my thumb and forefinger. “Could please not get too close to the bull’s head again, or let those damn horns get anywhere near you?”
The vibration of his silent chuckle causes my eyebrows to rise. “You know I have no control over that, right?” His lips curl in, and I know he’s trying to control his laughter.
My lips begin to form a smile. “Just humor me. Please?”
“Okay, I’ll try for you.” He sighs through a smile.
“Good.” I peck his lips, not once, but twice, and then wiggle free from his hold. W
es links his fingers through mine as I turn to see everyone else looking at us.
“That was fucking awesome! You did great out there,” Brantley says, slapping Wes on his shoulder.
“I don’t know how the hell you got off that bull without getting kicked in the head. Man, I haven’t seen you ride like that in ages,” Liam says, shaking Wes’ empty hand.
Sarah leans up on her tiptoes and kisses Wes’ cheek as she says, “I’m just glad you’re safe. Kenleigh here had me freaking out a little myself.”
As we all sit down on the bleachers, Jackie is the last one to say something. “I knew you could do it. You’ve gotten better since the last time I saw you ride.”
I bite the inside of my cheek, trying to contain the retort on the tip of my tongue. After the talk we had at the bonfire, I was sure she would have given up her quest for Wes. I still want to believe it. The rational part of me knows that it’s ridiculous, childish even, to be jealous that she’s seen a side of him that I haven’t. With a couple of deep breaths, I let it go.
“Are we partying tonight?” Brantley asks. “You know, in celebration for that great ride.”
My eyes close as I hope Wes says no. It’s not that I don’t want him to spend time with our friends and celebrate. He really did do great out there. He did something I never would have had the guts to do. But I want it to just be us tonight. Last night, I told Wes that I needed to start packing to get ready to return to the dorms. We discussed it somewhat, but then, he once again evaded the conversation as much as he could. Finally, I told him that on Sunday, which is now tomorrow, I needed to pack. “Naw… can’t, man. I’m gonna spend some time with my girl.” Wes lets go of my hand only to drape his arm over my shoulders. I lean into his comforting embrace. As the guys give him shit for choosing me over them, a twinge of dread sinks to the bottom of my stomach because all too soon, my time with Wes will be up. One more day… That’s all we have left, and I have no clue where we will go from there.
The past couple of days, I’ve been a nervous wreck, and have spent every second that I can with Wes. On Friday, at the end of camp bonfire/birthday party, we barely left each other’s side. Yesterday, we lounged around the house until it was time to go to the rodeo. When we returned home, he snuck into my room, and we talked about anything and everything. When we weren’t talking, we were making love. I didn’t want Mrs. Sandy or Mr. Will to wake up and find Wes in my room, but it was worth the risk because I realized that this would be the last time I’d be sleeping in his arms for a while, if ever again.
Now, reality is slapping me in the face like the bitch that she really is. I’ve been packing all day, preparing to return to school tomorrow. My stomach’s filled with dread and twisted in knots. Anxiety streams through my veins, knowing that Wes and I are still where we were a few weeks ago when I first tried to talk to him about what will happen when I return to school. But every time I bring it up, he finds a way to evade the seriousness of the situation. I’m not ready to leave, not by a long shot. When I left my dorm, I thought I was happy with the way my life was going. Then I arrived at the ranch, and met the man that turned my world upside down in the best possible way ever. I heave a deep sigh because I know that when I go back to campus, my life will no longer be the same. Just the thought alone makes me feel empty inside.
I last saw Wes this morning when he woke me by peppering small kisses all over my face, neck, collarbone, and the swells of my breasts. My body quivers with anticipation at the thought of how he touched every, last inch of my sensitized flesh and the huskiness of his voice as he whispered sweet nothings in my ear. Tears slowly obscure my vision when I think about how much I’ll miss him. I tried so hard to protect myself so I wouldn’t get hurt, but he worked his way in. And honestly, I couldn’t have stopped him even if I wanted to. The heart wants what it wants, and mine wants Wes. Inhaling a deep breath, I will myself not to burst into tears. When a knock sounds on my door, I quickly blink back the tears, and clear my throat. “Come in.”
The door cracks open. “Hey hon—” Mrs. Sandy stops, her eyes widening with concern when she sees me. “What’s wrong?” she asks, walking in and shutting the door behind her.
“I don’t wanna leave, Mrs. Sandy. I don’t want to leave Wes.” The dam bursts, and my tears break free. I can’t hold them back any longer.
“Shh… It’ll be okay,” she says softly in my ear as she envelopes me in a hug. With a tender touch, she strokes her hand up and down my back, attempting to soothe my sobs. “Have you two talked?”
I shake my head. “No. When I try to bring it up, he changes the subject. I don’t know what else to do.”
“Well, if I know my son at all, I know this. Your leaving is just as hard on him as it is for you.”
I take a shuddering breath. “Why won’t he just talk to me about it? I know there’s a way we can work it out.”
Mrs. Sandy removes her arms from around me only to cup my face in her hands. She lifts my tear stained face, and her sapphire blue eyes bore into mine. “All I can tell you is to try talking to him again. Okay?”
I nod while wiping my face clean of tears. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Good.” Smiling, she tilts my head down and kisses my forehead. “I’m gonna go, but if you need anything, I’m here for you.” She steps around me and pulls the door open.
I look at her over my shoulder. “Mrs. Sandy?”
“Hmm?”
“Thank you.”
“Anytime, dear. That’s what mothers are here for.” She walks out the door, leaving it ajar. Her words settle over me like a blanket, giving me warmth. Mother. In a sense, she’s right. She is Wes’ mother, and in some sort of way, she’s like one to me, too.
I turn back to the mess on my bed, heave a deep sigh, and continue to pack.
“Hey.” I hear Wes speak as I throw the last bit of clothes in my bag.
My head turns to see him standing in the doorway. “Hey.”
He must be able to tell from my solemn mood that something is off. “What’s wrong?” He steps inside my room, and his eyes flicker between my packed bags and me.
I sigh and plop down on the bed. “We really need to talk.”
He crouches down in front of me, taking my hands in his. As his thumbs caress the backs of my knuckles, he says softly, “And we will. But I really wanna show you something. Will you walk with me?”
Defeated. That’s what I feel right now, because he has just brushed the seriousness of our situation off again. I nod and stand from the bed. My head lifts when I feel Wes’ fingertips touch my chin. Leaning down, his lips barely brush over mine. “I love you. Everything will be fine. We will be fine.”
After hearing those words, all I can do is hope he’s right, and have faith in us. “I love you, too.”
Hand in hand, we walk out of my room, down the stairs, out through the screen door, and head toward the barn. The soft, yellow lights from lightning bugs flicker against the orange, purple, and red hues of the setting sun. The sweet scent of honeysuckle blankets the air around us as Wes stops outside the closed barn doors. “Close your eyes.” He steps behind me and places his hands on my hips.
“You and your surprises,” I whisper, closing my eyes.
“I thought you liked my surprises,” he murmurs against my ear as he nips the lobe.
“Mmmhmm…” I shiver as tingles race down my spine.
He chuckles behind me. “All right. I’m going to open the doors and help you walk through. Don’t open your eyes ‘til I tell you to. Okay?”
“Okay.” Excitement makes my hands clammy. Anxiety causes my knees to wobble and sweat bead on the back of my neck. Wes likes to surprise me, but he’s never gone so far as to make me close my eyes. The creak of the wood as the door opens makes my heart beat in a faster rhythm. Slight pressure against my hips where Wes gently squeezes propels me to move forward. With cautious steps, I notice the normal crunch of pebbles and hay beneath my feet is no longer there. Instead, no sound resonates wi
thin the barn at all.
“You’re doing great. Just a couple more steps,” he encourages. “Okay, right here,” he whispers against my ear as he wraps his arms around my waist.
“Can I open my eyes now?” I ask excitedly.
He shakes his head in the crook of my neck, and I laugh. “Okayyyy.”
“My whole life, I’ve waited for someone like you. There’s something about you that makes a part of me come alive. I know that you wanted to discuss what will happen to us when the summer ends–”
“I have,” I interrupt.
“And I’ve evaded the topic all together. The truth is, Kenleigh, I don’t want the summer to end. I don’t what we have to end,” he whispers, kissing the shell of my ear. “Go ahead and open your eyes.”
My eyes spring open, and I’m left breathless at the sight that greets me. I turn my head in all directions, taking in the magnificent scene laid before me. Red and white rose petals lay delicately scattered along the breezeway floor. Candles ensconced in lanterns decorate the entire barn. Windows in each of the horse stalls are open. The sweet, light, airy smell of honeysuckle mixes with the scent of the rose petals. The soft glow from the candlelight bounces off the walls of the barn, creating the most romantic ambiance I’ve ever experienced. Wes has really outdone himself. His warm, gentle, tender, yet strong hands surround mine as he wraps his arms around me from behind. I lean my head back against his shoulder, and my gaze meets his. “What do you think?”
I clear my throat because I’m still at a loss for words. After a few seconds, I let him know what all this really means to me. What he really means to me. “This is amazing. You are amazing. I can’t believe you did all of this,” I answer breathlessly.
“You should know that I have never gone to extremes like this to catch a girl’s attention.”
“I can assure you that you caught my attention way before this.” I chuckle at his statement.
“I hope so,” he answers, his voice ringing with sincerity. “I wanted tonight to be special. I meant what I said, Kenleigh. I don’t want what we have to end. I love you, and those are words that I don’t throw around lightly. You’ve given me so much more than you think.”
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