Crime and Periodicals: Green Valley Library Book #2
Page 18
“Sabrina, it’s Wyatt!” I shouted as I approached.
“It’s the Harvest Moon, Wyatt. I forgot it was tonight. Isn’t it amazing?”
“Yeah, it’s beautiful. I’m so sorry, Sabrina—”
“Don’t.”
“Okay.” I stood there and studied her face, trying to discern her features in the dark. I wished I’d left my headlights on or brought a flashlight. Or knew where my fucking cell phone was so I could use the light on it.
“This is my favorite spot in the world. I always come here to think.”
We were in an old horse pasture. It was a wide-open space, bordered by trees on one side and the Great Smoky Mountains National Park on the other side. She pointed to the distance, and I saw the dark silhouettes of the trees up high in the mountains. The dark muted their colors to varying shades of gray and black with the ever-present mist filtering down through the trees toward the pasture. In the daylight this place would be amazing—colorful and bright. It would have been pitch dark tonight if it weren’t for the golden glow of the Harvest Moon.
“This used to be one of the pastures for the horses,” she told me. She turned and looked up toward the mountains. “I love it here.” She leaned back on her elbows before lying flat on her back in the grass. “Isn’t it beautiful?”
I stood there and looked at her—hair splayed out on the grass like a dark halo around her head, her sweet face relaxed and smiling up at me. “Yes, more than anything,” I answered.
“Wyatt,” she murmured and held her hand out.
I sank to my knees and took her hand. I stretched out next to her with my other arm bent under my head. “I didn’t mean to stand you up.” I moved to my side, resting my head on my hand so I could watch her face as I explained. “I was at the hospital in Maryville with Mel. She fell off the slide at school and sprained her wrist. She’ll be fine. But I wasn’t fine; I was all worked up with worry and I lost my phone. I couldn’t remember your number to call you. Please tell me I haven’t screwed everything up with you.”
She turned to her side, matching my position. “You haven’t messed anything up with me,” she said, making me smile. “At first I assumed you stood me up because I did something to make you not want to go out with me. But then I realized I have to stop thinking like that. You’ve done nothing to cause me to assume the worst. You’ve always done the opposite and made me feel like it’s okay to open up. And honestly, my feelings got in the way of my logic. I’m sorry I assumed the worst about you—I won’t do that again. And I’m glad Mel is going to be okay.”
Compelled to touch her, I brushed her hair over her shoulder with my free hand letting it sift through the soft strands. “Thank you, Sabrina. I don’t want to screw this up. I wanted to go out with you tonight. I want to try again with you, but I don’t want to keep letting you down. It’s been twice now. I know that this kind of thing will happen again. My girls are my life.” Looking into her eyes made my chest constrict with need. I saw her shiver as the slight breeze picked up again. I wanted to wrap her up in my arms to keep her warm. Instead I trailed my hand down her arm to link our fingers between us on the grass.
“They should be your life. They deserve that, and I wouldn’t like you so much if you felt differently,” she said decisively. “I want to try with you too, Wyatt. We both have responsibilities. You have your girls and I have Harry and I’m sure I’ll have times when I have to drop everything and take care of him—”
“Can we have an understanding between us? Can we take it slow?” I asked.
She squeezed my hand. “Yes. I don’t want to give this up.”
My eyes traced the deep curve of her waist, down her long legs and all the way back up again over her full breasts to her beautiful face—I wanted my hands to follow that same trail. What I wanted from her was the opposite of slow. What an idiot I was for suggesting slow.
Instead of touching her I let her hand go and sat up.
I didn’t quite understand why I held myself back. Why I was having such a hard time succumbing to this moment—other than I strongly believed that the rest of my life could be lying on the grass next to me. I didn’t want to mess it up like I had with most everything else.
She sat up next to me and I chuckled, nervously, like a stupid kid. She leaned against my side and looked up at me. “Everything will be okay, Wyatt.”
I closed the distance between us and took her mouth. I swept my tongue out to taste her bottom lip. I needed to be close to her. I needed a taste of her. I wanted to taste her everywhere.
She moaned into my mouth and darted her tongue out to meet mine. “Wyatt.” It was breath, not voice, and it drove me crazy.
I lost my mind and all my barely leashed control. I lifted her by the waist and pulled her forward to straddle my lap as I pressed myself up against her warmth. She made a sexy little sound in the back of her throat as her body relaxed over mine. That felt good, but I wanted her underneath me. I scrambled to my knees to lower her to her back on the grass and followed her down to cover her body with my own.
She wrapped her arms around my neck and captured my mouth with her sweet lips. And I took from her what I’d wanted since I’d met her. But I didn’t need to take it—she generously gave it—yielding her body to mine. Opening her mouth to let my tongue come inside, wrapping me up in her long, long legs, and sliding her fingers into my hair to hold on tight, to not let me back away from her. As if I could, now that I’d gotten started.
I let one hand sink into all that soft midnight hair to support the back of her head against the grass, supporting my weight on my forearm. I let my other hand run up and down the length of her body, over the supple curves I’d been dying to touch, to rest on her hip and grip the softly rounded flesh. I caressed her hip, then up over her ribs to swipe over her nipple with my thumb and cup her full breast in my palm.
She gasped against my mouth and arched into me, pressing her breast further into my hand.
Her grip on my neck tightened, as did her legs around my waist. She raised her hips upward, seeking the friction I knew we both needed. I thrust my hard length against her once…twice. She moaned against my lips. God damn.
My lust filled brain wanted to take, take, take—get her clothes off, get inside her, make her come, make her mine. But the part of me that knew I could fall in love with her someday told me to stop. To slow the hell down because there was no way our first time together should be on the grass in the middle of a horse pasture without even a blanket to keep her off the cold, hard ground.
I want her. I fucking adore her—and I really need to be inside of her right now.
I disentangled from her soft warm body and sat up. Hard as a fucking rock and half-insane with lust, I sat there, panting like I’d just run a six-minute mile.
My head was filled with images of fireworks and stars, planets realigning in the universe, that enormous Harvest Moon illuminating us from up above like it was there just for us, and the feeling that everything in my life had shifted into place so I could be right here at this moment—exactly where I needed to be.
I scrubbed a hand down my face. I’d never had a kiss like that in my life. It had laid me bare.
“I won’t take you on the grass, Sabrina. I won’t do that; you deserve better than that,” I growled more to myself than to her.
“Okay, Wyatt,” she whispered. She was smiling at me from her back in the grass.
I grinned sideways at her.
“But I don’t want to leave,” she said. “It’s beautiful out here tonight. Will you stay with me? For just a while longer?” She sat up and leaned her side against mine.
I wrapped an arm around her. “Yes, I will stay with you,” I whispered.
A soft smile crossed her face. “Thanks,” she murmured before letting her eyes drift closed and darting her tongue out to wet her lips in anticipation.
I took a moment. I really needed more than a moment to regain my control, but I didn’t want to keep her waiting.
I met her lips with mine—slowly. Soft and gentle. Her hand found the side of my cheek, caressing a warm pattern that led down to my neck and into my hair to hold me to her mouth. I returned that soft touch and wove my fingers into her silky hair letting the soft strands fall through my fingers. My hand eventually came to rest against her throat. I liked the feel of her pulse beating against my palm.
We stayed like that—barely touching, softly kissing—taking only a small portion of what we needed from each other. Until the breeze picked up, and I felt her shiver against my side.
“I’ll drive you to the house; it’s late,” I said against her lips. Then kissed her one more time.
“Okay, in a minute.” She drew back and kissed my dimple, which made me chuckle. She seemed to have an affinity for it.
A strong gust of wind kicked up. Leaves stirred on the grass and blew against us.
“I guess we should probably go,” she said with a disappointed grin.
“I want you to meet my parents,” I blurted. Shit, was it too soon?
She beamed at me. “I would love to.”
“What are your plans for the homecoming game next Friday? My family always goes. We could all sit together. Then you can meet them and not have to worry about too much conversation.” I was excited by the prospect of moving forward with her, moving her deeper into my life. But at the same time, what if it was too much for her? Was I rushing things?
“It’s like you know me or something.” She laughed and I let out an internal sigh of relief.
“I know how to pay attention when it’s important,” I whispered in her ear.
“Weston wants me to go to the game. I’ve never seen him play. Harry and my father are going. Maybe we could all hijack a row and sit together. What do you think?”
“Sounds good.” I tugged her close and lowered my face to kiss her again. I couldn’t get enough. I wondered if I would ever be able to get enough of her.
We held hands on the walk back to my truck where I couldn’t help but back her up against it to kiss her one more time. She grabbed onto me, kissed me back and the one more time lasted a lot longer than I’d intended.
Chapter Twenty-One
Sabrina
Homecoming was a big deal in Green Valley.
I took in a huge breath. I could do this.
You’ve got this.
I always hated it when people said that.
I’ve got nothing.
I had nothing but the feeling that this teeming crowd would eat me alive. There were people everywhere—milling about in the parking lot, chatting, and walking toward the stadium. Green Valley loved its football team. Even regular Friday night games were always packed full of people.
This was like a test for me. Like when Luke Skywalker faced Darth Vader. Would Luke turn to the dark side and rule the universe at Vader’s side? Or would he stand on his own and do the right thing? When I faced the huge Homecoming crowd tonight, would I turn to the scared side and hide under the bleachers alone? Or would I sit by Wyatt and his family and act like a normal human? Okay, maybe it was not the same kind of test…
This was a huge deal for me. This was a giant bunch of people, talking, laughing—probably judging. And I was about to voluntarily submerge myself within it. I tapped my foot on the floor and fiddled with the zipper on my jacket.
What would Sienna Diaz do?
This night was so huge, even my bravery mantra failed me. I didn’t care what Sienna Diaz would do right now. Sabrina Logan wanted to hide on the floor in the back seat.
I was about to officially meet Wyatt’s parents tonight. Meeting the parents was a massive thing, a relationship thing, a boyfriend/girlfriend thing. I wanted to meet them, but I couldn’t help but wonder what had possessed me to agree to do it at a football game. Less conversation was a plus. Being surrounded by a crowd of people was a massive minus.
I looked over at my father in the driver's seat, still diligently trying to find us a parking spot close to the stadium. Harry was in the back seat playing a game on his tablet, oblivious that I was up front silently fidgeting and freaking the heck out.
My therapist once gave me a list to use when I needed to ground myself and talk myself down from an anxiety ledge.
One thing I could taste.
Did the taste of fear count? I reached into the center console and stole one of my father’s lemon drops.
Two things I could smell.
I guess fear still didn’t count. I caught scent of dry leaves and fireplace fires wafting through my open window. I also caught a whiff of my minty shampoo when I fluffed my hair in the mirror. I shut the visor and looked out the window.
I had always been terrible at this—this exercise gave me anxiety. But going through the list would not leave me huddled in the fetal position on the floor of the back seat, so it was preferable to the anxiety creeping up on me. I twisted my lips and turned on the radio.
Three things I could hear.
Besides the voices from the one million people outside, I could now hear Firework by Katy Perry. I turned it off. I sucked on my lemon drop and reconsidered the radio as the noise swelled from my window. Maybe turning the radio back on with the volume up would mask the sounds of the people outside. Maybe getting this song stuck in my head would be good. I should try to be a freaking firework and let my colors burst.
Dad turned to me and gave me a smile full of sympathy before returning his eyes to the parking lot. “You’ll be okay, sweet pea.”
One more thing to hear. “Hey, Harry,” I called to him in the back seat.
“Hey, Riri,” he answered back. My name from Harry’s lips. The most perfect sound in the world.
Four things to touch.
I rubbed my palms down the length of my denim covered thighs and gripped my cell phone. I know what I wanted to touch. I wanted to touch Wyatt. I still hadn’t gotten my hands on that booty. I decided that could count. This was my internal monologue; I could count whatever the eff I wanted. I just needed one more thing to touch—I bumped my head on the window when we passed Wyatt, standing by the ticket booth. Ouch. Moving on…
Five things to see.
I peered out the passenger window. I saw Jennifer Sylvester—no, it was Jennifer Sylvester-Winston now. She had married Cletus, and they were holding hands and walking toward the gate. Jenn and I used to hide behind the big kids’ legs during choir practice at church. She was just as shy as I was back then. We’d communicated solely through our held hands and big eyes as we huddled together and tried to avoid being noticed. I waved to her. She smiled and waved back. Maybe I’d go into her bakery sometime and say hi.
My father passed the ticket booth again. Wyatt was still there texting on his phone. He was wearing a brown leather jacket with the sleeves pushed up, and a navy blue and yellow Green Valley High School football T-shirt stretched snugly over his wide chest.
I was wearing jeans and a GVHS T-shirt too. I had to borrow one from Ruby. I was bustier, so it was just a little bit tight. I had my brown leather bomber jacket on as well; we had inadvertently matched our clothes. So, what if it was a football game and there were hundreds of people in T-shirts exactly like ours? That made no difference to fate.
I declared my list done. I hated to admit it worked, no matter how annoying it was.
My father, oblivious to anything except finding a good spot, kept right on driving. I leaned back into my seat and shut my eyes. We would be driving around this lot forever. My father always wanted to find a well-lit spot up front and that was just not going to happen. We would end up parking on the street next to a dumpster full of criminals. I didn’t even care. I just wanted to get out of this car and go see Wyatt.
“Jackpot,” Dad said a few minutes later.
My eyes popped open. Finally.
Whoa, he did it. While we were not in the front of the lot, we were safely ensconced in the middle, right next to a ta
ll light post. I turned and gave him a sideways smile. He smiled back. We got out of the car and headed off to meet Wyatt.
I needed to concentrate and try to remember all the football crap I’d read about on the internet. Like what a touchdown was, and that Weston was the quarterback, and Wyatt had been a defensive—uh, something. Damn it. He tackled people. I saw one of his college games on YouTube. Tackling looked painful, but also strangely hot. Football pants were very tight, and I had watched Wyatt play football on YouTube longer than I intended to last night.
I was getting love drunk—I could feel it. I froze in my tracks, pulling Harry to a stop when my nerves got the best of me. My father smiled down at me and took my hand with an encouraging squeeze. Harry was busy just looking around. He was handling this evening far better than I was. All the things I had thought of to say to Wyatt’s family tonight flew right out of my head.
I walked again, faster this time. Harry giggled and jogged to keep up, and my father laughed as he lengthened his stride to match mine.
Wyatt hadn’t seen us yet.
“Wyatt,” my father called out.
His head snapped around and a smile lit up his face when he caught sight of us.
“Hi, Sheriff Wyatt,” Harry waved and yelled.
Wyatt grinned and waved back as he headed in our direction.
I said nothing because I had lost my words. All I could see was him.
“Are Mak and Mel already here?” Harry asked Wyatt.
“Yep, they’re inside, saving our seats, and they are excited to see you.” He turned to my father. “I already got tickets; we can head inside.” He reached out a hand and shook my father’s.
“Sabrina.” He grinned at me. “Are you ready?”
I smiled. “Yes.” No. Maybe. Sort of.
He chuckled and took my hand. “You’ll be fine, darlin’. Stick with me.”
Wyatt handed our tickets to the kid at the gate and we headed to the stands. Homecoming started earlier than regular Friday night games. The sun was just going down. The tall stadium lights surrounding the football field burned like midnight suns, casting everything in a bright golden glow.