“She’d do anything to make you happy,” I say, mostly for my own benefit. My smile falls. “Must be nice.”
“Sit down,” he says, sitting back on the blanket. There’s a frog or two singing the song of their people and a light breeze blowing that fights a bit of the humidity. “Your mama loves you. In her kind of way. You know that, right?” She would slaughter me if she thought it would gain her societal standing.
“Right,” I say. “They are going to try to stop me from leaving,” I tell him. “It’s going to be so hard.” I brush some of the mud splatter off my jeans.
“Come over here, get on me,” Mercer says, holding out his arms. I smile and go into his waiting arms, pressing my back against his chest. We’re overlooking the water. “They can’t stop you and I have a feeling if you’re honest with them about your dreams, they’ll be happy for you.” He doesn’t know them like I do. “Parents want their kids to be happy even if it means doing it away from them.” He kisses me on my temple. “Confessing the first lie is the hardest. You’ll break your mama’s heart when she knows you can’t quilt.”
I break out into laughter. “Is it stupid though? Throwing away my life here?”
“This life isn’t going anywhere, but your life somewhere else isn’t even created yet. If you think about it that way, you’re missing out now.” He reaches next to us into the basket and pulls out a big mason jar filled with sweet tea.
“Tell me that has real sugar and I’ll make out with you right now.”
Mercer chuckles, opening it, both of his hands in front of my chest, the jar right in my face. Once the top is twisted off, he says, “Try it and tell me.”
I take a sip and moan. “Sugar,” I drawl, spinning in his arms to face him, the jar in hand.
“Now you gonna give me some sugar?” Mercer licks his lips. A breeze hits my face.
Leaning in, I kiss his lips once, closing my eyes to feel this moment more deeply. I feel his hands taking the jar from me, and I break away.
“Let’s put the lid on it and take this sugar a little more seriously. What do you say?”
“I’d say that’s a fine plan, Mercer Ballentine.”
He places the tea back in the basket and rolls onto me, lips crashing into mine. His tongue finds mine and as the kiss turns to fire, his hand traces the side of my waist and hip, I catch his gaze. “Do we really only have three weeks?”
The turned-on smile he wore all last night and right now fades into something more somber. “Don’t bring that up now. Not when I’m trying to forget it.”
“If it’s that horrible, why do you want to go back?” I ask, running my thumbs across his wet mouth, memorizing the bow of his lips—the slant of his chiseled jaw.
“I have to. It’s my job. My dream.” And with that, he’ll never have to explain further. I know what it’s like to have a dream that seems unobtainable. Something you don’t think anyone else will understand. “You’re going to be a hard goodbye, Clover Wellsley. Of that, I’m certain.” He pushes up on his hands so he can get a better look at me. “If you finally get on out of here, and make it to Cape Cod, I’ll be there when I get back from my deployment. We could have a crack at real time, darlin’.”
“We’d be more than just a three-week fling?” I ask, raising both brows.
He quirks a brow. “Would you want that? I’m just your scapegoat right now.”
I hit his shoulder. “You’re more than a scapegoat. I’d like more than a three-week fling. What little girl dreams of growing up and having a three-week fling with a military man. That’s not in the textbook. I hate to break it to you.”
He grins. “Okay then, it sounds like we can count on Cape Cod. You. Me. More snow than you’ll know what to do with. It grows on you.”
“You’re assuming I escape Greenton with my life.”
“You will. I’ll make sure of it. Wanna have some lunch?”
I nod as he rolls off me and starts taking stuff out. Removing my boots, I cross my legs. “This place is so beautiful. How many girls have you taken out here?” I ask, my tone light.
He chuckles. “A few, but not for the reasons you’re thinkin’. This is Bentley’s fishing spot. I’m the only other person who knows how to get here, I reckon. I’ve brought girls out here to hang out with him.”
“He’s letting you borrow his spot? How sweet of him. It really is beautiful. If my dad knew about it, he’d have a park built here in no time.” I hug my knees up to my chest. “Something to make more money.”
“Mercer shrugs. “I didn’t ask Bent. Better to ask for forgiveness than ask for permission.”
I accept a small sandwich he’s handing me and take a bite. “I did see my forever in Greenton until a few years ago, you know? I’m not sure what happened. What changed for me.” Chewing slowly, I look at Mercer eating. “I want a dose of what you have. You got out of here and you’ve seen the world.”
“I’ll give you a dose, alright,” he replies. “The world is a bit of a mess right now, Clover.” His eyes glass over as he gazes at the pond. “The safety and security you have here is so rare it’s hard for me to tell you to leave it behind. It’s one of the few untouched places since the war began.” I know this fact. “Maybe that’s why it’s been hard for you to leave the known.” Mercer recalls the start of the war when the terrorist attacks sparked in nearly every city in the United States and abroad. No place was safe. Greenton was.
“I think you’re right. I think that combined with the fact that all of my family and friends are here made for a lethal combo. I’m ready though. I’m calling Goldie. When you leave, I’m leaving too. She said she’d need a couple weeks to get ready for me.” I tell him everything that I’ve never told another living soul. About the duplex Goldie owns that I can move into. About the salon and how I’ve been driving up to the city to the teaching salon to keep my skills up a few times a week for nearly two years. That’s my quilting class. The first six months, I kept quilting stuff around my house, then I just told my mother I kept it where my lessons were. I tell him about the exams and practicals I will have to take to transfer my license. I have done my research; my plan is solid.
“I know I said it before, but I like you in those clothes,” Mercer says, wiping his hands on his pants.
I clear my throat after swallowing a large bite. “This beautiful man picked them out for me.”
“He has good taste,” he replies. “About dinner at my house tonight,” he adds hesitantly.
I shake my head. “Unless you don’t want me there, I’m eating dinner at your house.”
“My mama gossips as much as Tannie,” Mercer says.
“We’ll give her something to gossip about,” I reply.
He runs a finger down my shoulder. “On second thought, as much as I love these clothes, I think I’d rather see them on the ground.” Mercer tugs on the tight fabric of my shirt, and then my jeans.
“Oh, sir, you are really forward.”
Instead of replying, he pulls off his shirt and slides his jeans off. I watch his every move closely. Mostly because watching his muscles bunch and ripple is mesmerizing, but also because I want to see how far he’s willing to go. “You wanted adventure, mayor’s daughter. Take off your clothes and meet me in the murky water. If that’s not a euphuism, I don’t know what is.” He stands up to his full height of six feet and waits for my reply. “Come on now, darlin’. Caution to the wind.”
My eyes widen, as I take his hand to stand. “What’s in there?”
“I don’t know, but I’m not scared. Are you?”
“I’m not going to think about it. I’m just going to do it,” I reply, blowing out a breath.
He chuckles. “Thatta’ girl. Now strip.” Mercer steps away, placing his hands on his hips. Crickets are squawking loudly as I strip off my jeans and socks. “Let me help a bit because you didn’t let me last night.” Confidently, he grabs the hem of my shirt and pulls it up and over my head and tosses it on the blanket. He sighs dreamily
. “That felt just as good as I thought it would.”
I laugh. “Taking off my shirt?”
He nods. “Yes. Do you know how many boys dreamed of doing that and never got the chance? If I had a dollar for each one, I’d never have to work another day in my life.” He presses his lips together. “Now taking off your bra? That’s worth two dollars.”
I tilt my head back, letting true happiness spark. “Better beat all of those boys then, right? Take it off. I wouldn’t dare let your dreams slip away.”
He reaches behind my back with both hands, cradling me. I feel when his fingers land on the clasp. “This,” he says, leaning in to kiss me. “Is for every boy who dreamed of doing it and couldn’t.”
I lean up to twine my arms around his neck. My bra unsnaps and Mercer slides the straps down my shoulders and steps away, holding it in his hand. “Living the dream,” he says, smirking. “Joking aside, I’ve never seen a more magnificent sight.”
“You’ve been to places around the world and you’re telling me—” I say, he cuts me off with a look.
He nods. “I’m telling you that Clover Wellsley standing nearly naked by this pond, is the most spectacular sight in the entire world.” He shakes his head. “Highlight reel of my life type of stuff.”
A strange feeling blooms in my chest and tears prick my eyes. He’s living life to the fullest right now and if I pause for a second to understand why, I’ll lose it completely. He has to. Tomorrow isn’t promised for a man like Mercer Ballentine. It’s infuriatingly haunting. His honesty is on display every single second we’re together.
“Would me standing here without my panties make the highlight reel, too?” I ask, tilting my head to watch him as he appraises me, thumb and forefinger cradling his chin.
“Trick question?” he asks, blue eyes meeting mine.
I pinch my lips together with my teeth and cross my feet at my ankles. “I hate to mar your highlight reel, but if we’re going in that water, I’m leaving my panties on.”
He laughs, a big hearty laugh. “Why?” Mercer furrows his brow.
“Okay, I’m sure this is unladylike to say, but you’ve said the next few hours are kind of canceled out, so I’m just going to be honest.”
“Always the right thing to do,” he adds, scratching his stubble.
I blow out a breath. “I don’t want little fish to swim into my lady parts.”
He laughs. I put my hands on my hips. He notices I’m not laughing. “You’re serious. Oh.” He collects himself. “Fish aren’t going to swim inside you, Clover.”
“How do you know? Haven’t you ever watched those medical shows?”
He chuckles and takes me into his arms. He presses a kiss on my bare shoulder. “There is a better chance of something else finding its way inside you than fish, ma’am.”
My skin prickles and wetness floods my panties. “I admit. That was a good line.”
He drags his lips against my neck, a languid soft touch that sends fire to my belly and below. “I’ll be here all day. And a few after that if you want a repeat show.”
I roll my head to the side to give him better access. Closing my eyes, I say, “Haven’t had the first show yet.” His tongue licks a trail up to my ear and a moan escapes my lips.
“We’ll fix that. I want all of you,” Mercer rasps against the rim of my ear. “Patience.”
I’m so consumed with the longing and lust, I don’t see what he’s planned next. Mercer picks me up, hands tight, and runs into the water. It smells a little bit like mud and God knows what, but that doesn’t stop me from laughing. I clutch his neck and try to capture his waist with my legs to keep away from the murk. He carries me easily into the water that ends up being up to his chest. The tip of my ponytail dips into the lake.
“This is how I die. This is it. Alligator,” I shout. “Come and get me. Take down the man first. He has more meat!” I realize the double entendre the second I speak.
Mercer tightens his grip on me as he laughs, a bright smile lighting up my world. I wonder if he’s always this happy. Do I have anything to do with it? Is that even possible? Do I have this power over a man who seems to own everything surrounding him? “Alligator,” he says, calling out in the same direction I just did, mocking. “My meat is no good here.”
I giggle. “It’s not! I changed my mind.”
“Eat her first,” he adds, sexy gaze flicking to dance with mine. “Or not. I’d like to do that before the alligator does.” He tilts his head, like he’s considering eating me, going through the motions in his mind.
I swallow hard at the visible, feral hunger. Our eyes remain locked as he leans in and kisses the ever-loving sin out of me. If ever a kiss declared ownership, this is the one. Neither of us question it. We’re both hungry for more when he pulls away. “Something just brushed my leg,” he says against my mouth. “And I don’t even care. I’d lose a leg if it meant I get to kiss you every day.”
“That mean you wanna be my boyfriend?” I ask, licking my lips to make sure he sees.
His dark lashes blink a few times as his gaze slides across my face. He pauses, kisses my lips, inhales my neck, kisses it for good measure then faces me dead on. “Yeah, darlin’. You’re muddied up enough for me now.”
My smile might crack, it’s so big. His matches. He kisses me again and it’s interrupted by the sound of a gruff four-wheeler engine. Mercer’s head pops up, eyes narrowed. He lets me fall into the water so my breasts aren’t exposed to our visitor.
“Oh, good heavens,” I declare when I see the perpetrator.
Mercer holds up his free hand. “Jimmy! What in tarnation are you doing?” His voice booms in a deep baritone command full of testosterone. I’d follow him into battle if he shouted at me like that. I get it now. How women say they go weak in the knees. Mercer Ballentine makes me weak in the everything on my body.
Jimmy grabs the sweet tea from the picnic basket and downs the whole mason jar. “Hey,” I shout. “That is not polite!”
“You know what’s not polite? Not making the bed and leaving my hunting camp a mess! I don’t care if you’re home from war, buddy. Fair is fair!” Jimmy shakes a fist at us, but his grin is huge and mocking. He stoops down, gathers our clothes, taking special care with my bra and dashes back to his four-wheeler before we’re even out of the water.
“Farm truck,” I shout when we reach the grassy spot.
“Pardon me, ma’am, but this deserves a true, oh fuck.” Mercer shakes the water out of his hair and rubs water off his arms.
In my panties, standing on the blanket, I catch my breath from the thrill. Also, a bit of anger, but mostly thrill. We talk about a plan. I’ll wear the blanket and he’ll be fine in his underwear. “Mercer,” I say, tapping my foot.
“Yes?” he asks, after apologizing for the twentieth time. He can’t even look me in the eye as he gathers everything to get ready to head back.
“Look at me.” When he does, I shake my head, wearing a coy smile. “Is this a bad time to tell you I think I might have a fish up in my lady parts?”
He chuckles. “Only if you won’t let me go in and find it.”
I shrug and cast a nonchalant smile over my shoulder. “Might be good fun locating it tonight. When we’re alone.”
“Or a stinky mess to deal with when it dies inside of you,” he fires back.
I widen my eyes. “Okay, not a funny joke anymore.”
Mercer bites his bottom lip. “Thanks for being such a good sport, Clover.”
“Thanks for the adventure.” I jump into his arms and kiss him so hard the blanket falls off.
Chapter Seven
___________________________________
Clover
EVEN THOUGH I don’t have fish in my honeypot, I smelled a little funny from our mucky swamp expedition. There were a lot of jokes made about flesh-eating bacteria and brain inhabiting amoebas. So many that I broke my own rule and showered at Mercer’s parents’ house when we arrived back. I couldn’t help it.
We snuck into the bathroom attached to the pool and took turns showering in the tiny stall. Mercer was smooth. He told his mom my clothes got covered in mud and I needed something to change into for dinner. She didn’t ask any questions. Or she knows we came home without clothes and doesn’t care because that means Mercer is happy. I think she’s the kind of person who would turn a blind eye at any cost if it meant her darling boy was happy. My parents could do with a dose of that.
I’m wearing a pink sheath dress that Mercer’s mama wore when she was twenty years old. No panties or bra. I’m beyond inappropriate. I called my mama, Winnie, and my best friend when we got back to check in and make sure there weren’t any fires that needed dousin’. Tannie seemed remorseful, offering to do whatever I wanted for the festival to make up for telling Sue-Ellen Kline about Mercer and me. That’s the thing with having a best friend who can’t keep her mouth closed. She will always owe me something. She can’t help herself and I live with it because I always have. It’s a weird, mutually beneficial relationship. I don’t even tell her I know she told people about my romp with Mercer. She knows I know. Enough time has passed to assume correctly.
“Hand me the mandolin so I can cut the apples, Mercer,” I say, holding an empty hand out. He fell into a helper position quickly. We’re baking the pie in the mini maid’s kitchen off to the side of their main kitchen. Most of the older homes in the South still have these. The Ballentines have remodeled over the years to modernize the space and it’s completely functional without being gaudy.
Mercer hands me the tool and lingers as close as he can. “Jimmy followed us into the woods earlier. He saw dad’s truck and knew it was me,” he says, breath brushing my shoulder. “Bentley promised he would clean up after we left and I suppose he didn’t. You have to believe me.”
“We’re still on this?” I ask, slicing carefully, tossing the apples in a bowl. “I’m over it. I’m a tough woman. You don’t have to worry about me.” Being caught naked with Mercer by Jimmy is low on my worry list at the moment. Crazy Jimmy Cotter, the only taxidermist in the two surrounding counties may be a lot of things, but he won’t tell anyone about what he saw. Not right away. He’ll want to use it as leverage.
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