by Mj Fields
I shake my head. “No one shines like him.”
He moves from one song to the next, switching genres, a ballsy move with this crowd, but if anyone can pull it off, he can.
“Love, I get so lost, sometimes. Days pass and this emptiness fills my heart. When I want to run away, I drive off in my car, but whichever way I go, I come back to the place you are.”
Melting, falling, falling, falling …
He squats down as he sings directly to me. “In your eyes the light the heat …”
“Oh my freaking goodness.” Phoebe sighs. “Maybe it’s not just Ross boys. Maybe it’s farm boys.”
I couldn’t take my eyes off him if I tried. He’s mesmerizing.
When the song finishes, he puts the mic back in the stand, and the crowd goes crazy. He lifts his hand and waves to them as he makes his way to the edge of the stage, jumps down, and walks directly to me.
His eyes are blazing, heat and desire resonating. I’m so delighted to see because now I know that my worry caused by the stale conversations over the past few days, by the distance, space, and time that I thought would surely ruin what I felt between us was just an insecurity. The flame is still there. It hasn’t turned to ash.
I hold my breath, anticipating a very public display of affection that I would have balked at weeks ago. Now, no part of me is thinking clearly, or maybe it is because all I want right now is to feel Ben’s kiss, feel his hug, and go to sleep in his arms tonight.
He surprises me by hugging me tightly, burying his head in the crook of my neck and spinning me around.
When he sets me on my feet, he smiles. “Missed you, little Ross.”
“I missed—”
“You need to go sing to me.”
I laugh and hug him. “No way.”
He picks me up and carries me.
“Ben Sawyer put me down.”
And he does … on stage.
“I’m gonna kill you.”
“You’re gonna sing to me, then you’re gonna kiss me.” He hops down, and the music starts.
Looking out over the crowd, I see people staring at me. Catty bitches from high school are gathered together, whispering and giving me dirty looks.
Tessa shined this way. Me? Not so much.
I look back at Ben, who seemingly tries to figure out what the hell my problem is. He points to himself and holds his hands over his heart.
I clear my throat and begin to sing a song that he or Sarah picked out for me. “I don’t want another heartbreak. I don’t need another turn to cry. I don’t want to learn the hard way …”
The way his eyes light up, and the way he rakes his lower lip between his teeth encourages the hell out of me. Slowly, very slowly, I allow myself to get lost in the song that pretty much nails the way I feel about Ben. And, by the time it’s nearing its end, I’m actually enjoying myself.
When the song does end, he throws his hands in the air and cheers. He’s kind of making a spectacle of himself, actually. I should be embarrassed for me … him, but I’m not.
He walks to the edge of the stage and holds his hands out. I take them and hop down. Releasing my hands, he then cups my cheeks and kisses me.
“Fucking starving for—”
“You’re at a fair. There’s tons of food. I could get you some free sausages.”
He smirks. “I could give you one as well.”
Even though he’s being a perv, I laugh and hug him.
I never expected I would feel entirely comfortable with this kind of banter, but I have come to love the attention.
I always thought that when the day came —Ben and I as a couple—with our families together for the first time, I would have been uncomfortable. I have literally had nightmares about it. But, sitting at a picnic table with our parents, Alex, and Phoebe, and every type of food laid out in front of us, I feel completely relaxed.
“How are things on the hill?” Dad asks Frank.
Frank nods to Ben. “Better now that Ben’s back. All the hay is in.”
“You selling this year?” Dad asks.
“Not yet, I’m not. Prices are down lower than they have been in eight years. I’d rather burn it than give it away.”
“Now, don’t do that.” Dad laughs. “Got some good folks downstate and in Connecticut that are buying the little we did for their horses. Not a bad price either. Five a bale.”
“You make money on hauling it. You’d just as sure burn it, too, if not for that.”
Dad laughs. “Like hell I would. I’m retired now. Need all the extra money I can get. When are you gonna retire?”
I watch Frank look at Ben. “Not sure yet. Will let you know in a few days.”
I look at Ben, who looks down.
“You gonna get in the game, Ben?” Dad asks.
“Not sure yet. I’ll let you know in a few days.”
26
Almost Paradise
Kendall
“You wanna get out of here?” Ben whispers in my ear.
“Sure.”
After excusing ourselves, we walk away from our families. Ben weaves us through the crowd until we get to the midway. He’s nearly an arm’s length ahead of me, his head hung down, and his shoulders are slumped.
I tug on his arm, and he turns back. Gone are the sparkling eyes and a sexy smile. In their place is … annoyance?
“You okay?” I ask.
He nods, turns, and then walks to the ticket booth.
I don’t push. From what I understand, he’s been working very hard.
With tickets in one of his hands and the other still holding mine, he pulls me toward the Ferris wheel. The line is short, so we board quickly.
Once halfway up, he looks at me pensively.
“Ben, what’s—”
“I think I’m going to buy the farm.”
Before I have a chance to reply, he groans out, “I knew you’d hate it.”
“I didn’t say that, Ben.”
“But you would.”
I shake my head.
“So, that’s it?”
“Hey.” I take his hand. “If that’s what you want to do, then do it.”
He nods, leans over the safety bar, and looks down.
I squeeze his hand, and he glances at me from out of the corner of his eye.
“Is that really what you want to do?”
“I mean, yeah. Someday, the music will stop anyway, right?”
The way he asks makes it clear he’s looking for me to agree.
“I don’t think it would, but if that’s where you want to be—”
“And what about you?”
I smile. “I have two more years of college.”
“Right, of course.”
One full ride around the wheel in silence and we stop at the top. When he doesn’t say anything, it nearly drives me insane.
“The Ben Sawyer I know is never radio silent.”
“Just tired.”
“Me, too.” I cautiously rest my head on his shoulder to be closer to him, to silently tell him I’m here, and maybe a little bit to see if he’s still here, too.
When he lets go of my hand, I lift my head from his shoulder. Then he stretches his arm out behind me and pulls me closer—the opposite of what I thought he was doing—and I release my held breath.
“If you want to talk it through, I’m right here.”
He sighs. “Not sure there’s a thing to talk through.”
“Okay, but I feel like you want to, but then I feel like you don’t want to.” I look up at him, and he smiles softly as he bends down and kisses my forehead.
“Some things I can’t talk about. And I know that’s fucked up.”
“It’s okay,” I assure him.
“No, Kendall, it’s not.”
“Not sure what you need from me, but whatever it is, I’ll be here when you’re ready to talk about it.”
After three rides on the Ferris wheel, the last two completely silent, we make our way back to the table
where our parents are still sitting with Alex and Phoebe. He’s feeding her funnel cake.
“Alex, I’ve had plenty,” she groans out, holding her belly, and he smirks. “Okay”—she leans forward—“but only one more bite.”
I look up at Ben, who is staring at them.
Frank and Becky stand up. “We’re gonna head back.”
Dad and Mom stand, too. “We’re heading out, as well. We’ll walk with you.”
I hug Becky and Frank and say goodbye.
Ben tells them that he’ll see them later, and I tell Mom and Dad the same.
“You wanna hang out more or you good?” he asks.
“I’ve been here for four days; I’d say I’m good.”
“We’re heading out, too.” Alex nods in the opposite direction of the exit. “Gonna grab Phoebe another funnel cake first.”
“Don’t you do that to me.”
“Fine, I’ll grab one for Remington.”
She sighs. “It won’t last till morning.”
After our goodbyes, we walk through the crowd.
“You drive?” Ben asks.
“Nope, rode with Sarah and Jake.”
“They still here?” He looks back toward the stage.
“I’ll send them a text. They’re camping at the Glenn with some of their friends.”
“Were you going to stay down there?”
I link my arm through his. “I couldn’t. Last time I stayed there; I was abandoned.”
“Oh yeah.” He smiles. Finally.
“Yep, my truck and dog were stolen.”
Now he smirks. “Whose ass do I need to kick?”
“Oh, don’t you worry, Ben Sawyer; I’m exacting a plan for revenge.”
He stops at my truck, and I smile.
“You washed my beauty.”
He opens the door, and the dome light turns on for the first time in years. “Get in.”
I gasp. “What did you do?”
“Little Ross, you haven’t seen a thing.”
He shuts the door behind me then hurries around the truck as I bounce a bit on the new seat. He hops in and watches me, smiling.
“I’m not sure if you like it or are realizing how much you’re gonna miss that spring.”
“Oh, shush.”
He looks me over, and not in the sexy way he has previously. “I can’t even make you blush anymore?”
I shrug and sit back. “Maybe I’m immune.” I pull the new seatbelt over and click it in place. I don’t even have to juggle with it. “Or maybe I like it.”
“I like you.”
I laugh. “Well, Ben, I like you, too.”
“You know what else?”
“What?”
“I’m falling so hard for you; it almost scares me.”
You know those moments you wish you could think of something profound to say to someone who just lit your soul up, yet there you sit, having no idea how to reply? I seem to be having one of those.
Brain fart with paralyzed vocal cords. Yep, that’s me.
“I like that.” I smile at my hands folded firmly on my lap.
“You still gonna like it if I’m just a farmer?”
I turn and look at him. “There is no such thing as just a farmer, Ben Sawyer.”
“Good to hear.”
“I’m not finished yet.”
“Carry on then.”
“Are you going to love yourself if you’re just a farmer?”
His hesitation and the way he answers, “Yeah. Yeah, of course,” which tells me he’s settling.
I reach over and grab his hand. I really like holding his hand. “Ben, all I care about is if you’re happy.”
“I really don’t want to farm, but I want the house, the land, the place I grew up. I want my parents to fucking retire and relax, not worry about how much a bale of hay costs or how financially strapped they’re gonna be if this year’s yield blows, you know?”
I nod as I sit and listen, knowing this is what he needs—to just vent.
“I should have gone to school to be a vet like Alex.” He laughs sardonically. “Then, I would have made him proud.”
“He’s proud of you, Ben.”
He shakes his head.
“Oh, come on; how many people can say their son’s a rock star?”
“Not a rock star; a lyricist.”
“Well, how many people can say that?” I laugh.
“It’s not farming, Kendall. He’d have a problem with it.”
“Wait. You haven’t told them?”
He shakes his head. “Never a real good time to do that.”
“That’s a cop-out.”
He snaps his head up and looks at me.
“It is. Your dad would be extremely proud of what you’ve accomplished if he knew.”
“Now’s not a good time.” He sits back and holds my hand to his heart.
“Ben”—I squeeze his hand—“if you want me to be there when you tell them, I will. But you’re seriously nuts if you don’t think they’d be ecstatic.”
He lifts my hand to his lips and kisses the back of it, and then the ring he gave me that hasn’t left my finger for even a second, and says, “That’s really sweet, but now’s not a good time.”
Before I can say anything, he lets go of my hand and puts the key in the ignition. “You wanna turn on the radio?”
I look at the dash and smile when I see the new stereo with a CD player. “You did all this?”
“It was a joint effort. When I pulled the old seat out, half the floorboard disintegrated, so Dad welded you a new one.”
“Well, I need to thank him.”
“Give him a call anytime.” He puts my hand on his thigh then puts the truck in drive.
I squeeze his thigh. “I need to pay you back.”
“There are a million ways you can do that without breaking the bank.”
My face immediately heats up.
He glances over then chuckles. “Immune, my ass.”
He reaches up and turns on the radio, and through the speakers comes the song “Hook” by Blues Traveler.
“Where are we heading?” he asks.
“Your truck’s at the farm.”
“You trying to get rid of me already?”
“Of course not. I just didn’t expect to see you this weekend. Wait. Does that mean I won’t see you next weekend?”
He smiles. “Pray for rain, little Ross.”
“You do know I can drive a tractor, right?”
He laughs.
“What’s so funny about that?”
“My girl will never be driving a tractor.”
“Chauvinistic much?”
“Huckleberry’s don’t drive; they ride.”
“I’m not a Huckleberry; I’m a Ross. We drive.”
“Looking forward to that.”
My face is in flames immediately.
27
Everything I do…
Ben
I know I need to get back to the Hill, but I want to stay right here, for as long as I can.
I lift the console separating us, and she scrunches her eyes closed and laughs softly.
I turn, leaning my back against the window. “What’s so funny?”
“I didn’t realize until now that there’s a console.”
I take her hand and pull her toward me. She unbuckles her seatbelt and scooches closer. Then I lean in and kiss her lips softly, feeling her sweet breaths becoming shorter and heavier as I run my hands up her arms, her shoulders, her neck, and then take her face in them.
She presses her lips against mine, and not the innocent, flirtatious kind of kiss I literally jerked off to the memory of all week, either. She slides her tongue across the seam of my lips with passion, and when I open for her, she comes in with a fiery demand.
“Kendall,” I groan, prolonging each fucking letter of her name, savoring it like I will every part of her body.
She moves closer, so her body is flush against mine, places one of her hands
over mine, and guides it down her face, her neck, and then whimpers when she pushes her tit into my hand.
“You sur—”
She nonverbally answers by kissing me and climbing onto my lap.
I move our bodies to the center, completely ignoring the fact that I now have a seatbelt jabbing me in the ass.
Her knees are on the seat as she straddles me, deepening the kiss and intensifying the need pulsing inside my already painfully erect cock. I run my hands up her bare, outer thighs, and she whimpers, arching her back against me as she fists my hair and pulls on my lower lip with her teeth. Then I skim my hands up her waist, fingers flexing almost involuntarily until my thumbs rest just beneath her perfect tits.
Pulling her lips from mine, she looks down at me, her full lips swollen from how nearly feral she kissed me, her blue eyes darker and full of desire.
“You want me to play with your titties, Kendall?”
She closes her eyes, bites her bottom lip, and nods.
“You’re gonna need to lose the shirt for me because if I do it, buttons are bound to fly, and that’s a real pretty shirt.”
She slowly unbuttons the light blue shirt, and if not for the slight tremble in her hands, I would think she was doing it slowly just to watch me lose control.
Once her shirt is unbuttoned, I see the virgin white cotton bra, which is far from the typical lingerie I’m used to being tempted with, but this girl, my girl, she doesn’t need all that.
I take the liberty to slowly push one shoulder strap down at a time, watching her chest rise and fall quicker as she swallows hard. Then I outline her breast with my finger and push the white cotton cups down.
“Christ, Kendall, you have the sexiest tits I’ve ever seen.”
She swallows hard as I cup them both in my hands and squeeze them. A whimper escapes her sweet lips, and then I rub my finger around her areolas, avoiding her nipples and watching them tighten immediately into little knots.
I purse my lips and blow on them, one at a time, as I watch her eyelashes flutter.
“Fuck, you’re beautiful everywhere.”
“Ben, just … you know … just—”