Her mouth fell open. “You’re trying to make me jealous.”
“Is it working?”
“Yes!” She smiled at me and relaxed, dropping her tone. “Everything feels lighter when we’re together, Maggie.”
I opened my mouth to respond but was interrupted handily.
“Well, well,” Rene said and sashayed up to our table. She’d owned and managed the café since its opening some twenty-five years prior. Blond. Plump. Friend to everyone. “This is a nice surprise! The two of you grinning it up at my café. Warms my heart.” I smiled up at Rene, who was known for her no-nonsense demeanor but also her zest for life. Not to mention, she made the best cakes, pies, and ice cream I’d ever experienced. “Facebook says you two are thicker than thieves, and this seems to prove that true.”
“Facebook says so?” Courtney asked curiously. Her gaze moved from me to Rene and back again.
“Tanner Peak now has a Facebook page, remember?” I explained. “It’s full of sensationalized gossip. An unfortunate development.”
“Our very own National Enquirer,” Rene gushed proudly.
I had a feeling she was a regular contributor.
Courtney’s smile dimmed noticeably and I knew why. We placed our orders with Rene, and I turned to Courtney. “You’re worried about our forbidden relationship popping up on your dad’s news feed?”
She shrugged. “I’ve never known him to troll social media, but I suppose anything is possible.”
“On that subject, I did a little detective work into our families’ history.”
“Oh yeah?” Her interest was piqued. She leaned in. “And what did you find out?”
“You were right. My mom and your dad dated in high school. It ended badly.” She closed her eyes for several seconds before opening them again.
“I can only imagine. What happened?”
I recounted the details my mother had shared and watched as Courtney seemed to shrink smaller and smaller in her seat.
“I’m really sorry he did that to her. You have no idea how sorry.” She shook her head and stared at her hands, but said no more.
“You don’t have anything to be sorry for.” She nodded to the table numbly. “Did you see that side of him growing up?”
“Unfortunately, I did.”
I felt like I’d been punched in the stomach, but I had to know more. The next question left my lips with terrifying calm. “Did he hit you?”
This time she didn’t look away. She met my gaze square on. “A few times, sure. My mom had it worse. I’m glad she got away from him.”
“God, me too. But what about now? I don’t want you living there. You can move in with us. I’m serious. Pack a bag tonight.”
“No. Absolutely not. I can handle my father. His temper’s mellowed over the years. Though he still likes calling all the shots, even when they’re not his to call. That part hasn’t changed.”
“Like him not wanting you around me?”
She nodded. “Notice it hasn’t stopped me. I wouldn’t let it.”
“But there could be ramifications. You realize that, right?”
“I’ll live with them,” she said, lifting a shoulder.
“You shouldn’t have to. Is it wrong that I can’t wait for the day where you’re as far away from him as possible? I know you love Carrington’s, but have you considered opening your own store?”
“No.”
“You could start with just one, something small, maybe after graduation, and see where it goes.”
“No. Maggie. God.” She stared at me incredulously. “I realize that you’re not exactly sure what you want to do with your life, but that’s not me. I’ve known from the time I was small that I wanted to climb the ladder at Carrington’s, and I’m so close. I’ve put in so many hours, and when I graduate, that’s where I want to be.”
“That doesn’t mean you wouldn’t be equally happy doing something else, far away from your father. Put in the hours there.”
“Do you even hear yourself? He’s not far off from retirement. If I work hard enough, and stay the course, the board will see that. I know they will, and someday this company will be run by me.”
“But at what cost?”
Courtney stared blankly at the milk shake Rene placed in front of her, the unanswered question echoing in the hollow space between us.
*
Nothing felt right for the next few days. Courtney and I had chatted on and off, but since our disagreement, the proverbial elephant in the room made its presence known. She’d come to the farm after work three days later, but try as we might, we couldn’t seem to get back on track.
I lay there next to her, staring up at the stars, trying to figure it all out.
“I don’t want to fight with you,” Courtney said quietly from her spot next to me on the blanket. “We have less than a week left, and I want to spend as much of it as possible with you.”
I turned to face her. “I don’t want to fight with you either, but I’m worried. About you. About us. About what’s going to happen.”
She crawled slowly on top of me and stared down into my eyes. “I love you.”
I blinked up at her and replayed the sentence. “You do?”
She nodded.
“I know in my heart that this summer was meant to happen, that you’re the person I’m supposed to be with forever. I want that. I want there to always be an us. Because I love you.”
The ever-present voice of reason wanted to point out to her that we could be pulled in a thousand different directions by life or fate or who knows what else, but I didn’t. Because I knew she was right. “I love you, too,” I said simply.
I’d never been more sure of anything.
Her mouth descended on mine and she let out a tiny little murmur when our lips came together. “And you drive me absolutely insane with this body of yours,” she said, before devouring my mouth once again. Luckily, I didn’t mind at all. We kissed and touched and touched and kissed and moved against each other until I thought all the air had been sucked out of the universe. Slowly the clothes were subtracted one piece at a time. I didn’t know if this would be our last chance to be together, but our time alone came with a measured desperation to memorize each kiss, each touch, each caress.
“I want to taste you,” I whispered, and crawled down her body.
I let my breath caress her and watched as she squirmed beneath me in anticipation. With the first touch of my tongue, she moaned, a low and hungry sound. The intimacy of the contact was like a drug, and I couldn’t get enough. With the flat of my tongue, I traced her perimeter and then kissed every spot for good measure.
“Maggie,” she said softly, drawing out my name for literal seconds. God, I loved that sound.
In response, I let my tongue sweep across her center once, and then again. I dipped it inside and out, quickening my pace until her hips told me she was close. Hoping to satisfy her, I pulled her firmly into my mouth and sucked until she called out, twisting on top of the blanket.
“Oh my God. Oh my God,” she breathed. “That was so good. Like beyond.”
I smiled up at her and dipped my head. It had been over too soon. I wanted more. She jerked at the sensation of my tongue but softened to the delicate little touches, surrendering once again. “Maggie, I don’t think I can—oh man.” I smiled against her and slipped inside. She began to move, sexy and sure. That was Courtney, all confidence, and I loved that about her. She let her hands loose in my hair, holding on only for brief moments when she needed an anchor, a move I found incredibly hot. With a final push of my fingers, she tumbled for a second time, closing her eyes and arching her back in release.
Minutes later, when we came back to ourselves, she pulled me to her and cradled my face. “I don’t want to say good-bye to you. I can’t.”
“Then don’t,” I said, tracing her breast. I never got tired of looking at her body.
She kissed me long and deep and held me tight up against her. “Maggie. Promis
e me it’ll always be us.”
I found her baby blues and held on. “I promise.”
We made love until the sun came up, not caring about the wider world. I had her and she had me and the rest would sort itself out in time.
Chapter Eleven
The fourth summer
“Timothy, have you ever missed someone so much that you simply couldn’t wait another moment to lay eyes on them? Because that is what I’m feeling right this very moment.” My four-month-old little cousin cooed at me from his baby blanket on the floor. I touched his little tummy from my spot alongside him and made the funny faces I knew would pull a smile. Jackpot. His wattage didn’t disappoint. “I bet that’s how you’re going to feel when your mommy and daddy get back from their date night, aren’t you?”
Timothy giggled, which meant I had to die of cute overload, a recurring activity where Tim the Tiny Man Oakham was concerned.
“Where’s Tiny Tim?” my brother asked, poking his head into my cottage.
“Do you ever knock?” I asked. “As in, ever?”
“I don’t have to. I’m your older, wiser brother and have rights to do whatever I want.”
“One day you’re going to have to explain that logic to me.”
For my twentieth birthday, my father and brother had surprised me with my very own place on the eastern portion of our property line. How they pulled it off so quickly and without me driving through that portion of the land had me stumped. I now had over two acres overlooking the farm all to myself, which was awesome. The one-bedroom house had become my personal project over the past year, and I never got tired of finding new ways to spruce it up. It turned out decorating was a favorite pastime of mine, as was figuring out how to make space functional, and eye-catching with color, layout, and light.
“How long do we have this little dude?” Clay asked.
“They should be back within an hour.”
“Well, that’s plenty of time,” Clay told Timothy in a baby-talk voice, “for us to get into all sorts of bro trouble. Can you say ‘kegger’? Repeat after me. Keg-ger.”
I gasped. “Stop that. You’re going to ruin his innocent wide eyes.”
“Your Aunt Margaret is no fun at all.” Clay shook his head at Timothy. “No, she is not. You don’t like her as much as you do your handsome Uncle Clayton. I can tell.”
“I don’t know about handsome anymore, Clay. Your boyish good looks might be fading with age.” I casually flipped through a brochure on California real estate, and Clay looked like I’d just put his beloved puppy in the basket of my bicycle.
“You wound me.” Couldn’t have wounded him too bad because he moved on quickly, stealing my brochure and flipping to the front. “Real estate, again?” It was an avenue that bore exploration. Because I’d taken extra hours each semester, I’d graduate early with a bachelor of business administration. I was beginning to wonder what that would look like paired with a real estate license. “You gonna do it? Become a broker? Make deals happen all over strawberry city?” Clay asked.
“Well, nosy,” I stole the brochure back, “I’m starting to think I might. I would wait until I graduate, though. Not a lot of free time between school and the farm.” The Pick-Your-Own operation had pretty much been turned over to me, and I’d run with it, doing what I could to turn us into the place you had to stop if you wanted the freshest strawberries in creation. As a result, we were more popular than ever. I’d convinced Clay to plant one of our empty fields with pumpkin vines, which had translated to tons of foot traffic in the fall. People loved pumpkins and even more so loved having their photos taken in a giant patch of them. As a result of the growth, I now had a couple of employees who manned the place when I was in school, and my mother, hotter than ever in the world of historical romance, pitched in on occasion when her hands weren’t full with Luke, Sebastian, or some other alpha male du jour.
“I think you’d rock the real estate world,” Clay said. “You’ve got a great head for business, Scrap.”
“Can I quote you on that?”
“No. I will disavow all compliments. Can’t have folks in town thinking I’m soft.” He growled and I rolled my eyes. “When does Courtney get in?”
“Tomorrow,” I told him, smiling at just the mention. “Late afternoon. Time hates me. It’s crawling by.”
“Kudos to the two of you, though, gotta say. The long-distance game is not something I’d be very good at.”
I blew a strand of hair off my face. “Please, the short-distance thing isn’t something you’re very good at either.”
“That’s true.” He smiled guiltily. “I’m getting to be an old man, though. Might need to start changing my skirt-chasing ways. What do you think?” he said to Timothy. “Does Uncle Clay need to find him a girl who can make an honest man out of him?”
“This little guy,” I said, taking Timothy and planting a kiss on his cheek, “will never chase skirts. He’s the tiniest gentleman on the planet.” My phone buzzed from its spot on the coffee table. I read the text and smiled.
“Courtney?” my brother asked. “The love of your life? The reason you wake up in the morning?”
“Mm-hmm.” I typed my response. “She says her plane lands just after lunch, but she shouldn’t make it into town until midafternoon.” I couldn’t dim the smile on my face if I tried. It’d been there all week. I couldn’t believe that this time tomorrow she’d be here, in front of me, after so many months.
“So what time is Pictionary?” Clay asked. “I want to give her a chance to set her bag down, the little artistic genius. I’ve been practicing up, though. She’s in for a reckoning.” He cracked his knuckles.
“There will be no Pictionary tomorrow night.”
“You plan to jump right into the sack?”
I winced painfully. “Do not say the word ‘sack.’ Or talk about sex. You’re my brother. It’s weird.” I covered little Tim’s ears for good measure.
He stared at me like I was crazy. “You do realize I have sex, don’t you?”
“I choose not to think about it.”
“And if you ever need any tips, I’m just saying, let me know.”
“Gross. You’re a weird person.” But I adored him and we both knew it.
He smiled at me genuinely and dropped the jokes. “Seriously, though, I know it hasn’t been the easiest year for you. If you ever need to talk…or just complain a little. I’m here. You just gotta knock on my door or knock me in my head.”
I had the warm fuzzies now because he really was a great brother. “I will remember that.”
“That’s all I ask.” He pushed himself up off the floor and planted a loud, smacking kiss on Tim’s cheek. “Be good to that baby. Don’t go out drinking together.”
“It’s tempting, but we’ll abstain. Oh, hey, Clay? How’s Travis doing at work?”
“The kid’s a natural. I give him more responsibility each month and he nails it every time. Gonna hold on to him.”
I smiled, happy that the good reports continued to roll in. “Awesome. Berta will be glad to hear it.”
“That Louis kid is another story, though. I’ve about had it on that front.”
“Really?” This was an interesting development. “Why is that?”
“Been missing work a lot lately. Not calling in when he does, either.”
“You still got him working the books?”
“Yeah, and he’s a whiz at it, but I need someone I can count on. I put him on probation yesterday.”
I winced. “Ouch. He’s not used to that kind of thing.”
“Hoping he turns it around. I know he’s your buddy.” He headed for the door.
“Don’t worry about that.”
Clay nodded. “Good to know. See ya, Scrap.”
“See ya.”
I made a mental note to check in with Louis, see if maybe he could use a friend in the midst of whatever it was he was going through. He would do it for me. Timothy babbled, and I pushed the thought aside because
the cutest baby in the world needed my undivided attention.
*
Phone calls, text messages, even the occasional package hadn’t made up for the fact that I hadn’t seen Courtney in close to nine months. As I sat on the steps in front of my cottage, I checked my watch for what must have been the nine hundredth time. I had all this extra energy moving through me, reminding me how nervous I was, which was silly. This was Courtney, the person who probably knew me best in the world, whose voice it was that I fell asleep to on the phone each night.
She’d had a good year at Northwestern and seemed to fit in the way she fit in everywhere—perfectly. She had tons of friends whose names I learned via posts on social media. There was Heather, Ryan, Bryn, Angela, Nathan, and a million other names and good-looking faces I’d seen splashed across my screen. Yes, Courtney seemed to be thriving at school and was even more of a social butterfly than ever.
This prompted a myriad of internal questions.
Would it be different when we saw each other again this time? How would I hold up against her more exciting friends from school, and would she still feel for me what she did last summer? I stood and walked the expanse of the porch, jamming my hands in my pockets as I waited, pulling them out again, willing myself to relax and squirming against the uncomfortable flutters in my stomach.
God.
A few minutes later, my breath caught. I saw the familiar blue Mercedes coast up the gravel drive to my cottage. She’d never seen the cottage, and I wondered what she’d think of the décor, the exterior, all of it.
I felt my smile start and grow as she pulled in. I caught sight of her through the windshield, her blond hair pulled back in a loose ponytail, tendrils falling out. She exited the car and I forgot to breathe, remembering now how beautiful she was in person, how heart-stopping. She wore denim capris and a white cotton button-up shirt. She paused for a moment, looking up at me, resting her head on the top of the car door and grinning. I met her gaze, and for a moment we just stared at each other. I tried to wrap my mind around the fact that she was actually here. And then she was on her way to me, taking the steps two at a time, and in my arms, her face nestled against my neck.
Strawberry Summer Page 14
