by S. E. Hall
“I almost forgot,” she crawls back in my lap, which tells me undoubtedly she wants something. It’s pretty cute really, she has yet to figure out she need not persuade; she asks—it’s hers. “You’re paying for Samantha and Andy’s in vitro when they’re ready, okay? I really think that’s the deeper reason for Sam’s anger. She wants kids, and Andy can’t, well, and—”
“Done, baby. Nothing would please me more. I will pay for them to have a whole damn bunch.”
“I knew you would.” She smirks, as pleased with herself as she is with me. “You’re magnificent like that.” Satisfied, she burrows into my chest, her arms around my waist. “Big day; tired,” she says with a yawns.
“I got you, gorgeous,” my lips find her hair, my hand her back, “get some sleep.”
She sleeps against my chest, graceful, beautiful, and truly all mine. All this time I’ve lived with my guilt, hiding it from her, full of fear she’d find out and leave me. All that time wasted, shame I didn’t have to bear alone; she supported and loved me through it, despite it. She has my back no matter what, and I know, more so than ever now, that she always will.
Landed, lighter than I’ve felt in years, I carry my sleeping girl from plane to car, car to bed.
THIS LITTLE PIGGY…
“What song is that? I love it!”
“Yeah?” Yes, I may have snuck a ringtone for myself onto her phone, one of my “things” I’m willing to keep doing. Every guy has one—this is my special way of peeing on her leg.
“Oh my God! Yes, it’s beautiful. I wanna look it up and hear the rest of it, what is it?”
“‘Hey Pretty Girl’ by Kip Moore.”
“Ohhh,” she coos, the sweet sound pleasing me to no end.
Yup, perfect ringtone. Gonna have to call her more instead of text to make sure she hears it and thinks of me…lots.
“What are you doing today?”
“I have Larks practice in a little while, but after that I’m free, why?”
“I was thinking of heading to see Parker later. I’m done with classes at one, and nothing tomorrow until weights at 11, so if you’ve got a block, I thought maybe you’d want to go with me?”
Parker needs to meet her. The introduction at the funeral had been short and probably didn’t register with him or Angie. It’s time to do it right. And if we happen to swing by and say hi to my parents, well, that’s just because we’re in town and it’s convenient and all.
“You want me to go home with you?”
“Yeah, Whit, I do.”
The pause is killing me; too much too soon? Shit! I could have sworn she’s feeling me like I am her. About the same second my heart decides to drop to my stomach, her breathy voice comes back.
“That’d be wonderful, Evan. You just wanna pick me up at the Amp after your class?”
No, I wanna pick you up right this damn minute.
“I’ll be there. You need me to load anything or grab your bag or whatever?’
“Are we spending the night?”
I hadn’t planned that far ahead. We could spend the night at my parent’s, where they’d make her sleep in a different room for sure, which is proper and exactly what I should be thinking…which isn’t even close to what I’m thinking. Parker would more than let us stay there, but how tacky is that? I know I’m in town, parents, but I’m gonna sleep at Jones’ instead cause he doesn’t cockblock.
“Um, how about we pack for it and play it by ear?” Yes, this was the gentleman answer.
“K,” she exhales.
I’m pretty sure she was holding her breath, waiting for my answer, but I have no idea what she wanted the answer to be. Glad I went neutral.
“I’ll just bring my bag with me to practice then.”
“All right, so I’ll see ya at the Amp ‘bout 1:15. Sound good?”
“Perfect.”
We head to Parker’s first, since I figure it’s probably a good idea to ease her into meeting my hometown importants, aka let her get warmed up before taking her to my parents. My mom has a tendency to, well, mother.
Angie opens the door to us, looking more put together than the last time I saw her, but desolation is still lingering in her eyes that I think probably won’t ever totally disappear. “Evan, come on in!” She props the door open with her back to grab me in a hug. “And who is this beautiful young lady?” she asks affectionately when she spots Whitley waiting timidly behind me.
“Angie Jones, this is Whitley Thompson, my girlfriend.” I beam, grasping Whitley’s hand and pulling her forward. “Whitley, this is Parker’s mama, Angie.”
“It’s a pleasure,” Whitley offers her dainty hand, “thank you for having us. This is for you.” She presents Angie with a red box.
Where had that come from?
“Look at the manners on you!” Angie pats her cheek. “You make sure to rub off on my Parker. He’s not near as sweet as Evan here.” She laughs. “Y’all come in now. Parker and Hayden just went to check cattle, they should be back soon.”
I step back and let Whitley go first, my hand at her back. We take a seat in the living room and Angie remembers the gift in her hand. “Now what in the world could this be, Miss Whitley? Bringing me a present,” she says, then playfully tsks at her.
I’m anxious to see what it is too and can’t possibly restrain my chuckle when Angie lifts the lid to reveal a large, wrapped circle of cheese, complete with crackers along the edges and a fancy little silver knife thing with a bow on it. “Well, my goodness!” Angie exclaims, as delighted as she is shocked, I’m sure. “Whitley, you shouldn’t have, really.”
“It was the least I could do, having us in your home, especially on short notice. I hope you enjoy it.”
“Oh, Evan, honey,” Angie smirks at me, “she’s gonna whip you right into shape, isn’t she? Unless, of course, you get her over to the country side first.”
“I was thinking we’d meet somewhere in the middle.” I wink at Whitley, thinking how precious she is.
Only Whitley brings a gourmet cheese circle to a farmer’s wife on her first visit. And speaking of short notice—where the hell does Whitley spring these gifts from, one for any and every occasion? She must have a secret closet in her house filled with “just in case” presents.
“That’s usually the best place.” Angie smiles. “So Whitley, have you ever been on a farm?”
“No, ma’am.”
“Evan! Go grab one of the four wheelers and show this girl around. Something tells me she’ll love it.”
“You wanna go check it out?” I ask her, hopeful brows raised. She nods eagerly, eyes shining with excitement.
“Well, come on then.” I give her my hand. “If Parker beats us back, tell him we won’t be long.”
“Will do. You kids have fun. Oh, and Evan?” she calls, and I turn back. “Show her Dale’s favorite oak tree, why don’t ya?”
With that comment, I know Whitley has a true fan in Angie.
Whitley skips beside me to the barn, so full of life, so accepting of new things. Her naïve innocence and carefree zest is contagious, spurring me to run up behind her and haul her up in my arms.
“You’re awful excited,” I comment, smiling down at her.
“I’ve kinda been floating since you called me your girlfriend.
There’s not much that wouldn’t make me happy right now.”
“You caught that, huh?”
“Uh huh.” Her teeth grip her bottom lip with nervous excitement.
“You good with that?”
“Very.” Now she adds the tip of her tongue, wetting said lip.
I bounce her up, catching her around the hips and she knows just what to do, wrapping her legs around my waist and arms around my neck with a squeal.
“You make me happy, Whit,” I sigh, resting my forehead on hers, “more than I thought would be possible again. Better even.”
It’s true what they say—if you look for the really freaking amazing in people, that’s what you’ll f
ind.
Found it.
Her lips crash to mine, ravenous and greedy…she did not learn how to kiss in her mother’s refining classes. I try to keep up, lick for lick and nip for nip, simultaneously keeping my balance and tilting my hips back so I don’t send the wrong message. Luckily, I could walk this barn in my sleep, so I’m able to navigate us, joined and hungry, to one of the bays, setting her down on top of the half door.
“Uh,” she whines into my mouth, clenching onto me tighter. “Let me, ahhh,” okay just a little more, “get us out of here,” one more taste, “killing me.” Fuck it, so what if we get caught?
Sebastian must feel the electricity in the air, letting out a loud whinny.
“Ahh!” Whitley startles and shrieks, “what was that?”
“Oh, Whit,” I snort, keeling over in painful laughter but keeping one hand on her so she doesn’t fall. “It was a horse,” still hee-hawing at her, I try to catch my breath, “down there.” I point down the row. “Woman, you crack me up.”
“Can we go see him?”
Suffice it to say our heated moment has passed, every part of me already craving the next one.
“Of course.” I grip her hips and help her down, leading her to Sebastian’s stall. “You ever ridden a horse?”
“When I was little, my mother tried to put me in some kind of lessons. But those horses were stuffy,” she wrinkles her nose, “they didn’t run or jump or anything; they just kinda walked around beside the teacher.”
“Did you have to wear the little jacket and hat?” I tease her.
“Ugh, yes.”
I was kidding; my bad.
“Well, Sebastian here loves to run and jump. I’ll show you one day. And he’s a sucker for pretty girls, aren’t ya, boy?” I let him nuzzle my hand. “Look in the bucket over there. He’s really a sucker for pretty girls who give him treats.”
She reaches in the pail and scoops up a handful of honeyed oats, his favorite, extending out her arm as far away from her body as possible. I slide in behind her, pressing up against her. “He won’t hurt you.” I scoot us, as one, closer. “Flatten your hand. It’s okay if some spills, he likes your hand flat.”
“It tickles!” She giggles when Sebastian eats from her hand…I think. I have no idea what’s happening really, having gotten lost in her silky blonde strands and the sweet smell of strawberries.
“Evan?”
I love strawberries. “Evan?”
“Hmm?”
“He ate it all.”
“Oh,” I straighten, “right, okay. You ready to go see the farm then?”
“Yes!”
I place her to the side and back the four wheeler out, patting the spot between my legs for her to sit.
“Do I get to drive?” she asks hopefully, blue eyes as clear and bright as I’ve ever seen them.
I’m thinking country looks real good on her.
“We’ll see.” I wink, scooting flush against her once she’s seated. “Hold on tight.”
Now I admit, once again, I’m a bit of a romantic, but any tough guy who thinks he’s not… I’m thinking he’s never given a sexy girl her first farm tour. Every time she gasps, wiggling her little ass into my crotch while she points to some new sight excitedly, well, it does something to a man; I don’t care who you are.
Sharing this with her all but takes away the trace of sadness in me when I get to thinking about Dale. He loved this place, his land and home, and made sure to make it all it could be for his family. I will always miss him, but I know he’s watching (hopefully not the part in the barn earlier) and I know he would get a kick out of my girl here.
I show her the creek, the cows, all the chicken coops and the king of the farm, Mufasa, the Jones’ prize Angus bull. Whitley doesn’t much care for him and begs me to drive away quickly. Next stop--the pig pens. Now this… For this, she jumps off the four wheeler and splashes through the mud. It seems some babies have joined the farm and Whitley spots them right away.
One would think, upon first meeting Whitley, of which even I was guilty, that the only way to get this girl to “oooh” and “ahhhh” would be to take her to Tiffany’s or maybe shoe shopping. But no, all it takes to elicit the sweetest sounds and smiles you’ve ever seen from Whitley Suzanne Thompson are muddy, squealing baby pigs.
When I heard Laney tell Dane she loved him, I thought bullshit, not possible, too soon… I’m not sure what it is I’m feeling right now, but I am sure that I understand Laney’s predicament a tad better now. Maybe your true self only thrives in the accompaniment of the one made to bring it out in you.
Hmmm.
“Evan! Come over here and look at these precious little babies!”
I saunter over, not splashing mud everywhere. The vision of Whitley tugs at my heart. She seems blissfully unaware that she’s covered, on her knees in a swamp of…well, pig shit, and that one big sow really wants her to unhand those babies. “Whit, we probably need to go. You’re making their mama real uncomfortable, sugar. ‘Bout time to meet Parker, too, after we get you cleaned up.”
“What do they do with their pigs, Evan?”
They don’t rub them against their cheeks and blow on their bellies, of that I’m sure. She’s definitely not gonna like my answer.
“Well, they sell some,” I rub the back of my neck nervously, “and they…um, some I guess probably serve as food.”
The response you’re expecting, girl goes crazeballs at the thought of her “precious babies” being eaten…that’s exactly what happened. There’s a few tears, some wailing and stomping (all of which I find mesmerizingly hot) but mostly one pissed off, brooding female the whole ride back to the house. She doesn’t smell great, either.
“Feel better?” I ask Whitley as she joins us in the living room, looking perfect once again.
“Yes, much. Thank you, Angie, for letting me use the shower.”
“You bet, honey. I put your clothes in the wash.”
She comes and settles in beside me, smelling like Whit again, so I throw an arm around her and pull her into me side.
“So, Whitley, Evan tells me you have a bone to pick with me?” Good idea, Parker, poke the sleeping bear with a stick.
Whitley had briefly met Parker and Hayden before heading up to shower, but had yet to unleash her wrath. I warned him though. “No,” Whitley shakes her head, “I thought about it and I understand. I’m not an idiot, or a vegetarian,” she bites her lip, eyes welling up, “but maybe, in this particular case, uh, well, I will buy the whole herd from you!”
Done for. Heart—tapping out.
Parker rolls off the couch, emitting hyena-like hysterical giggles, and Angie and Hayden both cover their mouths, trying not to join him.
I kiss her temple, absolutely enamored. “A herd is cows,” I whisper in her ear. “It’s a litter of pigs, but Whit, where are you gonna keep a bunch of pigs?” Now even I have to stifle a laugh; the thought of Whitley corralling a bunch of pigs just too tempting.
“Whitley, why don’t you come help me?” Hayden stands. “Let’s see what we can come up with for supper.”
“I’ll help too,” Angie says as she rises. “You boys will be lucky to get fed, teasing sweet Whitley like that. Evan, why don’t you invite your parents to come over and eat with us?”
Whitley’s already smiling when I look at her and gives me a slight nod.
“Yes, ma’am,” I reply. If Whit’s comfortable with it, then it sounds great to me. I can’t wait for summer and being home again sans driving back for training, helping Parker on the farm and…damn, I need to find out Whitley’s plans.
I’m not going all summer without her.
Mom and Dad accept immediately, my mother practically leaping through the phone when I inform her she’ll be meeting Whitley. I may have called home a few times and mentioned her. Tonight doesn’t worry me a bit; my parents are the two most loving and accepting people on the planet, but there’s no sense blindsiding anybody.
“You lad
ies need any help in here?” I ask them in the kitchen. It’s good to see Angie smiling; I think having Hayden around will be very good for her. And wait until a baby comes—I know that’s Parker’s ASAP plan; she’ll be over the moon.
“I think we’ve got it, don’t we, girls?” Hayden wipes her hands on a towel and pours two glasses of tea, handing them to me. “You visit with Parker, Evan. He loves it when you’re home.”
“Whit, you good?”
She turns from the counter where she’s busily cooking, giving me a shaky smile. “Are your parents joining us?”
“Yep, oughta be here any minute. My mama can’t wait to meet you.”
No one else would have caught it, but I do, her fleeting glance down at herself, followed by a lip bite and quick swipe smoothing her hair. “You’re beautiful.” I wink, watching her consideration, then acceptance, before my very eyes.
I hear the tires on the gravel outside and couple farm dogs barking. “That’ll be them pulling up now. Come on, pretty girl.” I hold out my hand, loving how she slips hers in mine without hesitation.
“I’ll be right back,” she tells the other ladies.
“No you won’t,” Angie points out with a smile, “you let us finish this. Charlotte’s not gonna want to share you and we’re not gonna make her.”
“Oh, okay.” Whitley questions me silently and I grin, knowing Angie’s right.
“Come on.” I kiss her nose briskly and pull her out.
“Will we see you at the house tonight?” My mom stops and asks at her door.
“I don’t know.” I look at Whitley, who looks at the ground. “We may stay here, or head back; we hadn’t really thought about it.”
My mom gets a knowing smirk on her face, shushing my dad as he hollers at her to “leave those kids alone and get in the truck, you busybody!”
“Whitley, it was so great to finally meet you; my boy talks about you all the time,” she says, snagging Whit’s little body up in a big hug. “He probably just doesn’t want you to see his room. I swear, it still smells like gym socks. I don’t think that smell will ever go away. Now, you call me the next time you have a performance, because I’m coming to watch. Oh, and make sure Evan brings you down for Mother’s Day, unless you’re going home, of course, cause we have a great big lunch with games, and—”
