Love Me Like I Love You

by Willow Winters

  “So I take it you don’t want to go into the family business, right?” I ask slowly, recalling her voicemail about getting into grad school. I don’t know what her focus was, but I doubt it was agriculture.

  “Not in the same way my dad runs things. The plan was for the three of us—my brother, sister, and I—to take equal parts. Scott wants nothing to do with farming, obviously, and Sam can’t wait to take over.” Sierra lets out a breath and spreads butter on her biscuit. “But the Belmonts have been farmers for years, and I like that family history. I’m a part owner of the farm whether I like it or not, and there’s no way I’d sell my share. When I was a kid, I wanted to be a farmer, like my dad. My sister wanted to be a farmer’s wife. That’s the Belmont way, after all.”

  “That doesn’t suit you. At all. You’re not the kind of woman who can sit idly by and be a trophy wife.”

  Sierra raises her head, looking into my eyes. “What kind of woman am I?”

  “That’s a loaded question,” I say with a chuckle. “You are smart and kind. You won’t sit around taking orders from someone, and you won’t let anyone use your gender as a handicap and play that role of ‘farmer’s wife.’ You want to make the world a better place, even though the last year or so hasn’t been kind to you. You believe people are inherently good, and for some unknown reason, you make people like me see it too.”

  Sierra’s eyes gloss over, and for a beat, she stares at me. Then she blinks and looks away. “Sounds about right.”

  “I wanted to be an Avenger when I was a kid,” I tell her, digging into my food. “At least you had more ambition than me.”

  “Aspiring to be a superhero is pretty ambitious.”

  “Ambitious but not realistic.”

  Sierra’s fork goes limp in her hand, resting against her plate. “What did you do? Before you came here, I mean.”

  I lean back in my chair. “A lot of things. I never found anything that stuck.” It’s a half-truth, but I still feel like shit for saying it. Though I did do a lot of things, like I said, none are things I’m proud of. All are far from anything I’d share with Sierra. I don’t want her to look at me differently than she is now.

  “I bartended a bit before I came here,” I say, which is true. To an extent again. Fuck. I mentally sigh. “At a bar on the shore in New Jersey.”

  She scoops up rice with her fork and snickers. “You lived on the Jersey Shore?”

  “It’s not as bad as the show makes it.”

  “So you’re not D.T.F. tonight?”

  I raise an eyebrow. “I should be glad I have no idea what you’re talking about, right?”

  Sierra laughs. “Yes, and I am too. Is that where you’re from originally? You don’t have a Jersey accent, but you do sound northern.”

  “And you sound southern. Though not as much as other people in this town.”

  She nods. “It’s because my mom doesn’t have an accent.”

  “Oh, right. You said she’s from the east coast.”

  “Yeah. Though she’s picked up on the Mississippi accent more and more over time. Stay here long enough and you’ll pick it up too.”

  “Maybe mine will rub off on you.”

  “Lisa and I used to pretend we were from New York and see if we could get people to believe us.”

  “Did it work?”

  She shakes her head. “Not at all. But we were usually drinking when we’d play that game.”

  “I was born and raised in Indiana,” I tell her. “Northern Indiana, close to Lake Michigan, to be exact, and not all that far from Chicago, actually.”

  “Does it get cold there in the winter?”

  “Very. With lots of snow since we’re by the lake.”

  “I like snow. It’s so pretty.”

  “Has it ever snowed here?”

  “A few times,” she says. “It’s never much though. I went to Park City, Utah a few years back for a New Year’s ski trip and party. It was breathtaking.”

  “You’ll have to see the piers in Lake Michigan in the winter then. The ice build-up is insane.”

  “I’d like that.”

  “I’ll take you someday.”

  Sierra smiles. “I’m going to hold you to it.”

  Chapter 17

  Sierra

  I rake my fingers through Chase’s hair, and he lets out a soft moan in his sleep. Leaning back into the pillows, I close my eyes as well even though I’m not tired. I know Chase only got a few hours of sleep last night and didn’t nap like he intended to during the day. We have time before the bonfire at Rob’s tonight, so he might as well sleep.

  And he has to be exhausted from the sex we just had. Hell, I am, and I wasn’t the one holding me up against the wall the entire time.

  We’re in his bed, both still naked. Chase’s head is nestled against my breasts, and he has one arm lazily draped around me. I hook my leg over him, and a foreign feeling of peace falls over me. It’s so pleasant it’s almost startling. I didn’t think I’d ever be able to get on with my life after Jake, let alone find another person who gets me the way that Jake did.

  I’m drifting to sleep when Chase’s phone vibrates on the nightstand next to me. Chase jerks awake, eyes wide as he sits up.

  “It’s your phone,” I tell him and reach for it, pulling it off the charger. “Is this new? I thought you had a different one.”

  “I do,” he says and pushes himself up.

  “Whoa, that’s a lot of missed texts,” I blurt when I see the screen. Chase takes the phone before I can get a better look. “Did that say you have thirty-seven texts from someone named Jax?”

  “Yeah. This is my phone—my real phone. The one I’ve been using is a temporary, so to speak.”

  “What?”

  “Dakota, my niece, broke the screen my first day here. I sent it away to be fixed and forgot about it until it came back today.”

  “Who’s Jax?” I ask, trying to get another look at the phone. I can be a bit nosey regardless, and right now I really want to know why Chase has so many missed texts and calls.

  “A friend.” He sets the phone down and reaches for me.

  “Shouldn’t you text him back?”

  “Nah, it’s not important.”

  “He sent you like forty texts. I think that warrants at least a look.”

  Chase shrugs and grabs me by the waist, sliding me to him. “Later. We should probably leave, right?”

  “Probably. I don’t know what time it is.” The sun set a while ago, and soft moonlight filters through the window in Chase’s bedroom. He presses the home button on his phone to check the time, and I see that has a slew of missed calls as well as texts. How is he not dying to read them?

  “Nine twenty-three,” he tells me.

  “Wow. I did not realize it was that late.”

  “We’re good at losing track of time.” He grins and moves closer.

  “Very. Maybe we can lose track of time again later?”

  His lips graze mine as he talks, his deep voice rumbling through me. “Not maybe. Definitely.”

  Dark clouds blanket the sky, and the smell of rain sits heavy in the air, mixing with the thick scent of the bonfire. The crackles and pops of the fire fight to drown out the late-night singing of the crickets, and talk and laughter weave between the two, muted by the country music that’s coming from the barn. Humidity clings to the night, blanketing us in sticky heat.

  This is summer the way it should be. I’ve spent most of my summers like this, outside with friends, partying in some sense or the other.

  “You look lost in thought,” Chase says, handing me a can of beer. I crack the top and take a sip. I’m not a fan of beer. The idea of it sounds nice, refreshing even, but I can’t get past the taste. It’s terrible.

  “I am. I was thinking of how these get-togethers have evolved over the years. From innocent slumber parties with my girlfriends to crazy parties in college to this…low-key, more adult fun. I missed that last transition.”

  Chas
e puts his arm around me and kisses my forehead. Sometimes saying nothing is the best thing to hear, and Chase knows how powerful his silence can be.

  “Siiieerrraaaa!” Lisa calls from across the yard, throwing her hands up.

  “I think she missed the transition too,” Chase jokes and I laugh.

  “Lisa will always be in the crazy stage. She’s been in the crazy stage since birth.”

  “I told you to be here at nine, hooker,” Lisa bellows as she rushes over, throwing her arms around me. She’s already drunk and the party just started. “It’s like ten…ten…something.”

  “It’s ten fifteen. That makes me fashionably late.”

  Lisa pouts. “But I had no one to tell me to stop taking shots. Or take shots with. Want one?” She turns before I can answer. “Rob! Bring me those tequila shots.”

  “I don’t think Sierra wants one of those,” Chase says, eyes meeting mine. He arches his eyebrows and smiles, and I roll my eyes back at him, knowing he’s referencing that time I almost had a threesome with Mr. and Mrs. Backwoods.

  “Why don’t you let Sierra make her own decisions,” Lisa slurs.

  I love and hate Drunk Lisa. She lacks a filter most days, and when she’s been drinking, the filter is completely off and locked away in some repressed compartment in her mind that won’t surface again until at least three hours after her hangover wears off.

  “I don’t want tequila,” I say, grimacing. “Do you have any wine inside, though?”

  “Of course. Come with me. I have to pee anyway.”

  I take Chase’s hand and start forward after Lisa.

  “No,” she says, turning around. She holds up her hand, squinting at Chase. “Just the girls.”

  I shake my head. “Lisa, chill a little.”

  “Rob!” she calls, turning away from us. He jogs over a few seconds later.

  “What’s up, babe? And hey, guys,” Rob says.

  Lisa takes my hand out of Chase’s and loops her arm through mine. “I need to take Sierra into the house for some girl stuff. You talk to Chase. Because if we’re going to stay together and they’re going to be together, then the two of you need to get along.”

  “We do get along,” Rob says slowly, not following Lisa’s drunk logic.

  “Ugh,” she sighs, throwing her head back. “You don’t know each other. Go be friends. Start a bromance and become best friends. Come on, Sierra.”

  I look at Chase, who is amused by the whole thing, and gives me a small nod, telling me to go with Lisa.

  “What the fuck?” Lisa blurts as soon as we’re inside.

  “About what?” I ask her.

  She blinks, and then shakes her head. “I don’t remember. Wine is in the fridge. I’m going to pee.” She stumbles through Rob’s house to the bathroom while I open a bottle of wine, trading my beer for a plastic wine glass. I fill it halfway, take a few sips, and lean on the counter while I wait for my cousin.

  “Where’s my glass?” she asks when she’s back in the kitchen.

  “I’ll pour you one later. How about some food?”

  “I’m drinking my calories tonight.”

  “Take a break for a minute and dance with me,” I try, taking her arm and pulling her out the door. I see Chase standing by the fire, talking with Rob and his friends.

  “You like him, don’t you?” Lisa slurs.

  “Yeah. I hope so, at least, since we’re sleeping together.”

  “You know what I mean. Like really like him.”

  “I’m starting to.”

  “Good.” Lisa gives me a smile and rests her head on my shoulder. If she’s getting tired already, there’s no way she’s going to make it through the rest of the night. “But it is weird seeing you with someone other than Jake. When you guys were out there, backs turned, I thought it was you and Jake for a second. Then I saw you with Chase and it’s just weird.”

  I know she’s drunk, but her words hurt. Tears well up in my eyes and I work hard to blink them away. I grind my teeth the rest of the way to the fire, shaking Lisa off my arm as soon as we stop. She goes over to Rob, throwing her arms around his shoulders.

  “Sierra,” Chase says, smiling disappearing. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing,” I lie the same moment a renegade tear falls from my eye.

  “I don’t believe you,” he whispers, wiping my tear away. “Did something happen?”

  I shake my head. “Just my drunk best friend saying stupid shit.” Chase steps in, wrapping one arm around me. I rest my head against his chest and gather my composure. Chase cups my face, gently moving my chin up so he can kiss me. The guilt intensifies for a brief second before vanishing completely. Chase kisses me harder, tongue slipping past my lips. He slides his hand back into my hair, closing his fingers into a fist. If I weren’t holding my wine, I’d throw my arms around Chase and completely surrender to him.

  “Better?” he asks, breaking away.

  “Yes.” I take a few big gulps of my wine, mostly because I want to finish it and not carry a cup around all night. It takes me a while to feel like myself again, and no matter how hard I try, I can’t squish the ball of fear that starts to form every time I run into an old friend. Are they thinking the same thing Lisa is?

  “Those are the girls you went out with the first night I saw you, right?” Chase asks, watching Katie, Bella, and Heather draw near.

  “Yeah, they are. I’m surprised you remember.”

  “I’m good with remembering faces.”

  “I’m not. At all.”

  Katie catches my eye and waves. “Sierra! Oh my God, it’s good to see you again!”

  She hugs me and then looks at Chase, doing a terrible job hiding her smile. There’s no need to introduce Chase to them. They know who he is and that we’ve been spending time together. Not because I told them, but because this town talks. I go through a formal introduction regardless, for Chase’s sake. We talk to my old friends for a while then refill our drinks and go back by the fire. It’s already hot out, but the smoke keeps the mosquitos away.

  “I feel like I’m in a country music video,” Chase quips as we sit on a hay bale.

  I laugh. “Nah, all the girls would be wearing cowboy boots and cut-off jeans if we were. And we’d be sitting on a tailgate.”

  “We’re missing drunken fights and someone passing out in the barn, too.”

  “I’m sure one of those two will happen tonight.”

  “I think you just jinxed it.” Chase sits up straighter, looking over the fire. “Looks like a fight’s about to break out.”

  We stand and see three guys, fists clenched, staring down another guy. The leader of the offensive pack is Justin, a guy I’ve known since childhood. Behind the guys, who are exchanging heated words, is Francine, who’s the world’s fakest friend. Her arms are crossed and lips pursed, watching the men shout. Justin lurches forward, shoving the other guy in the chest. He stumbles back but takes a swing, fist colliding with Justin’s temple. Justin’s friends jump in on the guy, and another joins in on the fight, going against Justin and his crew.

  “I’ll get Rob,” I say but Chase shakes his head.

  “I got this.” He strides over and shouts, “Hey!” The brawl comes to a temporary halt and all five guys look at Chase. “What the fuck are you doing?” Chase goes on.

  “He touched my girl,” Justin sneers, pointing to the guy he shoved, that I recognize now as Daniel, who moved to Summer Hill not that long ago and has never quite fit in.

  “Take it somewhere else.” Chase goes right up to them.

  “Stay out of it, fucking Yankee,” Justin snarls and I shake my head. Way to further the southern stereotype. I turn, hoping to find Rob. He’s a cop in this town, after all. People listen to him. In that split second that I turn away, all hell breaks loose. I look back just in time to see Justin taking a swing at Chase.

  Horrified, I stand rooted to the spot, watching everything unfold. Chase ducks out of the way, catches Justin’s fist and twists his a
rm before popping him quickly in the face. Justin goes down and one of his friends moves in at the same time the other jumps on Chase from behind.

  Chase flips him over with ease and takes out the other friend in two seconds flat. Daniel and his friend stand there, arms out to their sides, looking at Chase and not knowing if they should fight him or not. Justin scrambles to his feet and pulls out a pocket knife. He flips open the blade and charges at Chase. My eyes widen in horror and my mouth falls open, but no words come out.

  Chase turns, grabs Justin’s wrist and has him disarmed in the blink of an eye. He twists Justin’s arm behind his back, apprehending him until Rob and one of his police officer friends run over. There’s a gleam in Chase’s eyes, and I can’t deny that he looks almost disappointed the fight is not only over but was easy. For him at least.

  “What the fuck?” Rob exclaims, seeing the knife on the ground.

  “That guy’s fucking psycho!” Justin yells, pulling away from Chase and mopping blood from his bleeding nose with the back of his hand. “He just attacked us!”

  “Give it a break,” Rob says. “We saw the whole thing. You charged at him with a knife. That’s assault, Justin. If he presses charges against you, I’m hauling your ass to the county jail.”

  Chase holds up his hands. “I’m not pressing charges. Just don’t be a dumbass anymore.”

  Justin spits blood onto the ground and glares at Chase. Francine stares daggers at me from across the yard, and now I know why she was standing there so smugly, watching the fight take place. It was about her.

  “Why didn’t you tell me your boyfriend is Jason Bourne?” Lisa asks, coming up behind me, unable to look away from the guys.

  I’m just as shocked as she is. “He’s not my boyfriend.”

  “Close enough. I wanna learn how to do that,” she goes on. “That was badass. God, it’s not fair you get to go home with him tonight.”