by Mj Fields
“Kendall, don’t.”
“Fine, then let’s talk about the fact I never thought I wanted to have kids until today.”
He glances over at me sternly.
I continue, “And let me talk about the fact that I want them to know their grandparents because they’re good people.”
“Kendall,” he nearly growls.
His anger sparks mine. “And let me tell you that, if the boy—who I love— heart gets broken because his father just gave up, I’m going to be so pissed at you.”
“That’s enough,” he warns.
“No, it’s not, Frank. Because that boy I love is someday bound to face something similar, and if he chooses not to fight because he looks up to you, then I’m going to tell those grandkids you never got a chance to meet that I blame you.”
He looks at me in shock, and I continue, “Do you want Becky to think you didn’t love her enough to fight? Because, if you give up, she’s gonna think that, and I’m gonna help her find someone who will fill your stubborn ass’s shoes!”
“Kendall!” Ben’s voice booms from behind me.
I bat away tears that begin to fall as I look at Frank. “I expect you to fight.”
When I turn around, I see Ben and Becky standing together.
I walk toward the door and stop in front of them. “I’m sorry.” Then I walk outside.
31
Into The Mystic
Ben
If you asked me three months ago if I’d choose a girl over my own father, I’d say hell no. That’s because I hadn’t realized I had always been in love with Kendall Ross.
I kiss my mom on the cheek then look at Dad. “She’s not wrong; you need to fight.” Then I turn and head out the door.
I yell her name over and over until I finally spot her sitting on the dock over the pond. I walk quickly toward her and sit down behind her, pulling her back to my chest.
“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to cause—”
I push my lips to the back of her head. “Shh …”
“I stepped over the line.”
I chuckle softly. “Apparently, you did it for our future children.”
She looks back at me. “I think I want your babies.”
“Good, ’cause I wanna give them to you.”
She crashes her lips against mine, thrusting her tongue into my mouth hungrily, as she turns to straddle my lap. My cock immediately stiffens.
When she pushes her hand between us and grabs it, I gasp. My brain tells me to stop her, but my hips thrust upward as she moves her hand up and down my length, outside of my fucking shorts.
“Kendall,” I growl in warning as she bites my lip and doesn’t stop. “Fuck, I don’t want you to stop, but I … I … Stop, stop, stop.” I move my mouth back.
“No.” She leans in and kisses me again.
“You’re gonna make me—”
“Ben, get in here!” my father’s voice booms through the evening air. “Kendall, you, too.”
“Did you finish?” she asks, grabbing her boobs and scrunching her eyes shut.
“No, but believe me when I say it still felt fucking amazing.” My eyes are glued on her hands that are clearly trying to … Fuck if I know, but it’s hot.
She opens her eyes and scowls. “You need to go.”
“Sweets”—I take her hands and pull them back—“you keep doing that, I’m not going anywhere, and this situation between my legs doesn’t have a chance in hell of calming the fuck down.”
Kendall slides off my lap and sits in front of me, hugging her knees, face buried against them.
I reach over and rub my hand over her silky, blonde hair.
“I’m so sorry, Ben.” She peeks up at me. “I think I should head home.”
I stand up, adjust myself, and then hold my hand out. “I need you here.”
She takes my hand, and I pull her up.
Standing on the end of the dock, looking beyond the pond at over a hundred RVs that started rolling in early this afternoon, I smile and shake my head, trying to wrap my brain around how this all worked out. And not just the race, but all of it.
“You did good, Ben.”
I look back and see Dad walking toward me. “We did good, Dad.”
He claps his hand on my shoulder and nods as he takes a sip of his coffee.
“How are you feeling?”
He smiles and shakes his head. “So far, so good.”
Dad started taking the pills prescribed to him the night Kendall went off on him. Popped the first pill right before he dropped them, or so he says.
After our talk, in which he was pissed but hugged my girl and told her that he was glad she was around to keep me in line and when everyone was in bed, I came down to Dad’s office and sat behind that desk—that I never wanted to sit behind—and was in the middle of making sense of it all when Dad walked in.
He admitted to me that he was afraid of what the medication would do to him physically. His main worry was that he wouldn’t be able to be intimate with Mom and that he wasn’t sure he would want to live if he couldn’t take care of her. I told him there were plenty of ways to take care of a woman, and then I told him that Kendall was still a card-carrying member of her V-card, so if shit went south while he was fighting his battle, he and I were essentially in the same boat.
“She coming over tonight?” Dad asks.
“Yeah, should be here soon.”
The day after the blowout, Tessa gave birth to a little girl, Harper Ann. Always wanted boys, but after seeing that little beauty, who looks more like Kendall than Tessa, to me anyway, I want a girl, but only one. That way, I would have two sets of eyes on any little bastard who will undoubtedly come sniffing around my little beauty.
“She heads back to school soon?”
I nod.
“And you’re going to Nashville.” He chuckles.
“Still love rock, Dad, but the money’s good.”
“Sure as hell is.” He laughs. “More than we’d make selling hay after an 80s harvest.”
“You gonna miss it?” I ask.
He looks at me. “I will, but I’m gonna enjoy the hell out of whatever time I have left.”
“You’re going to be okay.”
He nods. “Have to be. If I die, Kendall’s going to make my future grandkids hate me and set your mom up with another man.” He looks at me like it’s insane then winks. “You better not ever piss that one off.”
I can’t help laughing at the way it all went down. Kendall was embarrassed, red-faced. Hell, her hands were shaking for the entire next day whenever she saw Dad. Still, to this day, she apologizes, and I tell her the same thing every time: it gave him the push he needed.
She and Mom often talk about his treatment plan and his “counts.” I know damn well it makes Dad feel better about everything. He not only has his team of doctors, Mom, and me but Kendall, too.
“I have no plans to do so,” I tell him.
“Good.”
Half an hour later, I’m standing in the driveway, moving the blockade so that Kendall can pull her truck up to the house. She is wide-eyed, mouth gaping, no doubt shocked at the scene she just drove through.
For two weeks, along with some buddies of mine, we busted our asses, getting ready for this weekend.
When she puts the truck in park, I open the door.
Rio barks at me as I lean in to hug my girl and give Rio a pat.
“Holy shit, Ben! This is,”—she squeezes me—“crazy, right?”
I kiss her cheek then lean back and look her up and down. “Crazy beautiful.”
“I missed you.” She shakes her head and turns toward me. “I mean, I was just here a week ago, but—”
“Missed you, too.” I turn my ball cap around, lean in to kiss her proper, and Rio barks again. “You wait your turn, miss thing.”
I hold my lips against Kendall’s, breathe in the scent I love so damn much—a mix of country air and sweet goodness—and kiss her softly and slowly.
When she twists her fingers into the back of my hair and tugs gently, I run my hands down her back until they rest on her hips. Then I pull her toward me, running my hands down to grab her ass, lift her up, and kiss her again, before setting her on her feet.
“I’m already dreading you going back to school, sweets.” I kiss her forehead.
“You’re going to be in Nashville to digga-digga-twang it,” she jokes. “But you’re coming home for Thanksgiving, right?”
I love how her cheeks pinken at the mention of Thanksgiving.
“You bet your ass I am.”
“Hey, Ben,” I hear Cody call out from behind me. “Need your help on turn four.”
I look back. “Give me a minute. I gotta talk to a girl about a dog.”
“Go ahead. I’ll catch up,” Kendall says.
I turn back and look at her. “If you think you’re coming and I’m not going to be stuck to you like glue, you’re out of your mind.”
She smiles and throws her thumb over her shoulder. “She’s healed up pretty good.”
I look over her head. “Rio, you’re missing a cast.”
“I should’ve left her at home, but your mom mentioned that Frank asked about her.”
“He asks about you, too,” I smirk, and she sighs exaggeratedly. I laugh. “We’ll get her inside, put on some music to drown out the sounds, and then you need to come check the place out.”
Walking hand in hand down the main dirt roads as the sun begins to set, I watch her look upon the RVs, pickup trucks, and tailgaters in awe.
I squeeze her hand. “What do you think?”
“I think you’re pretty amazing, Ben Sawyer.”
“We, little Ross. We are pretty amazing.”
I point out the massive pile of logs in the center of an open field, surrounded by a makeshift fence so no one gets too close. “Those are all the old logs, dead trees, and fallen limbs we pulled out this week. We’re going to have a bonfire tonight to celebrate Sawyer Hill’s first annual race.”
“Is your mom all set with the crafts tent?”
“Yeah, and the food tent.” I laugh. “She and Dad decided we might as well cash in on this thing in a big way. Hamburgers, sausages, and hot dogs tonight; tomorrow, after the qualifying races, a pig roast; and Sunday, chicken barbeque. Pretty sure your parents are coming Sunday to help out.”
She nods. “I knew they were coming up. Alex and Phoebe, and Jake and Sarah, too. Molly and Tessa can’t be here but said they wish they could.”
“How are the boys doing with a baby sister?”
“They’re so sweet, Ben.” She grins. “It’s amazing.”
Thirty minutes later, Kendall and I are sitting up high in the ultimate tree stand. Well, it will be after the race, and hopefully for ones that come in the future. We’re looking down on the wooded and rugged terrain where, tomorrow, the races begin.
Cody stands below us, pointing toward an area that he feels needs further trimming out since it’s the corner we expect to be the most difficult. I nod and give him a thumbs-up.
“Needs more clearing out?” Kendall asks, leaning over the railing, looking twenty feet below us.
Putting my hands on the railing beside hers, I lean in and rest my chin on top of her head. “I suppose we play it safe, but when I was riding these races, the trails weren’t half as groomed as these ones.”
“Well, I’m glad you’ll be up here.”
“We’ll be up here.” I turn her around and pull her close. “And I’ll be trying my best to pay attention to what’s going on with the rest of the world when all I wanna do is kiss those pretty lips.”
32
I’ll Stand By You
Kendall
“If you kill me, I’m going to—”
“What’re you gonna do, little Ross? You’ll be dead.” Ben laughs as he straps the helmet under my chin. “I assure you, I’m looking forward to the day you drive. Your hot little ass will be safe, I promise.”
Straddling his black and silver dirt bike, I wrap my legs and arms around him tighter than necessary and hold on tight as he spins his tires, throwing dirt and dust behind us as he heads around the circuit.
I love the way his lean abs feel underneath the black cotton tee he wears. I love the way he smells, the way he looks at me with either tenderness or fire in his eyes. I love the way I feel when I see him for the first time after a few days or even minutes. I love the way my heart beats and butterflies flutter. I love lying next to him, being beside him.
I. Love. Ben. Sawyer.
Ben slows down as he weaves us around the parked vehicles and pulls up beside a tent, where he kills the engine.
I laugh to myself when I realize I didn’t even pay attention to what was going on around me. All I cared about was being with him.
Ben takes his helmet off. “Careful when you get off, little Ross; wouldn’t want you to get burned again.”
I nod as I cautiously get off the bike.
He steps off then pushes my hands gently to the side, unbuckling my helmet for me. I shake my head and run my fingers through my hair, untangling it a bit as I smile up at him.
He rakes his bottom lip between his teeth as he eyes me from top to bottom. “Gonna need you to sleep inside tonight.”
“Okay. And where will you be sleeping?”
“Wherever it is, I’m gonna need to be shackled and cuffed to an unmovable object. You look just like”—he looks me over as he considers his words then shrugs easily as if the answer was always there—“just like mine.”
I swallow hard as I let his words sink in. It’s not that I didn’t know he felt this way, but now that we’re on the same page, completely, the sentiment doesn’t come with a weight anchoring me to the bottom of some murky waters, causing me to panic because I can’t breathe, suffocating, drowning out who I am, or who I want to become.
“I’ve never in my life wanted anyone to make me feel like I wasn’t my own wholly.”
He pushes my hair back from my face, tenderly tucking it behind my ear, before taking both my hands in his. “And now?”
“It’s not a sentence.” I smile softly.
“Then what is it?” Ben steps a bit closer.
“I think may be a”—I look down—“privilege.”
“Sweets, it is undeniably that … for both of us.”
I look up at him. “Then maybe we don’t have to wa—”
He places a finger over my lips. “We do, because now, as odd as it seems and as fucked up as it is to say, I want that for you, and I want that for me.”
I open my mouth slightly and flick my tongue against his finger.
“Little tease.” He smirks.
I place my hands around his, kiss his finger, and whisper, “No, you are.”
“I like this game, but sweets, I’m gonna win it.”
I know he will.
I smile to myself at the thought, and that makes me fall even more.
Six Weeks Later…
Laying in the single-sized bed, staring at the ceiling, knowing I should be studying but daydreaming about Ben, I’m miserable. So miserable, in fact, I am contemplating quitting school and following a boy around the world. And, when I’m not chasing him, I’ll be the best farmer’s girlfriend ever. Okay, not really, but seriously close.
I get it now, totally understand how people get lost in their idea of love and ditch themselves to become part of a pair.
I’m almost ready to call Ben, even though we agreed we’d adhere to the two calls a week deal we made, when the door to the quad opens and my roommate, Sandra, walks to the side of my bed, hands on her curvy hips, dressed to the nines in a black leather skirt and a matching cropped leather jacket over a lacy red shirt. She looks down at me and shakes her head, black curls shaking about as she scrutinizes me.
“Get up. We’re going out.”
“Thanks, but I need to study.”
“You’re not getting any studying done lying there, sulking as you stare a
t the ceiling.”
This is true.
I rephrase, “I’m going to study.”
“Not tonight you aren’t. That band you were talking about, the Murphey Brothers, they’re playing in a bar downtown.”
I sit up. “What?”
She walks over to my dresser and starts throwing clothes at me. “Yep, the U.S. tour starts in a week and, apparently, they’re friends with the owner and—”
“That’s insane.” I stop myself from saying, I wonder if Ben knows because, in the past, I’ve been very verbal about finding it nauseating when people obsess over their boyfriends when, a couple of weeks, sometimes a couple of months later, they’re broken up and have moved on.
“Do you need to ask the magic scroll first or have you given up on it completely?”
Holy shit, I think.
Apparently, my shock shows on my face because Sandy laughs. “You haven’t used its advice the entire semester. I think maybe that’s your problem—you’ve completely given up hope on finding love after the jock.”
I push myself off my bed. “I never loved Josè.”
“Such a realist,” she grumbles.
“You know”—I pull my Dublin T-shirt off, toss it aside, step out of my sweats, and then grab the wrap dress that I have never worn and put it on—“love can’t be forced, and I was forcing it.” I don’t look at her. I can imagine she’s shocked at my mention of love.
Without missing a beat, I tell her, “I’m gonna need your hooker boots.”
Why a sexy dress and hooker boots? Marna, that’s why.
Walking into Dougherty’s Pub with Sandra and a few other girls from our floor, I smile when I hear the words to a new song, knowing it’s one that Ben finished just a few weeks ago, ultimately fulfilling his contract with them.
I scan the room looking for her, being petty and wanting her to see what me dressed up and looking, well, better than she ever will for the man who definitely wants a girl just like me. As a matter of fact, it is me.