The Beaumont Series
Forever My Girl – Beaumont Series #1
My Everything – Beaumont Series #1.5
My Unexpected Forever – Beaumont Series #2
Finding My Forever – Beaumont Series #3
Finding My Way – Beaumont Series #4
12 Days of Forever – Beaumont Series #4.5
Lost in You Series
Lost in You – Lost in You #1
Lost in Us – Lost in You #1.5
The Archer Brothers
Here with Me
Choose Me
Tyler King never forgot the blue-eyed, pig-tailed girl that lived on the ranch next door. So when he hears that she’s coming back for the summer, he can’t wait to reminisce about the good ole days. He soon finds out life in the Big City means a life with big ambitions and Tyler soon learns that Savannah has left the memories of small town living long behind her.
Savannah McGuire never thought she’d return to the ranch she once called home. Now she’s back and trying not to become attached to everything she’s missed by growing up in New York City. Determined to hate her surroundings, Tyler works to remind her of everything’s she’s missed. With her future planned out and a trip to Paris imminent, falling in love with Tyler King was the last thing she expected.
Tyler
Savannah McGuire, the girl who was taken from Rivers Crossing years ago by her power-hungry mother, is due to return. I’m excited and nervous, a deadly combination. Diagnosis: pure anxiety. My palms are sweaty, my leg is bouncing up and down and I don’t know why. Sure, it’s been five years since we’ve seen or spoken to each other, but her coming back here shouldn’t make me feel like I’m about to go on a date with Miss America.
When I see the old Greyhound bus come rumbling down the road, I straighten in my seat, clutching the steering wheel until my knuckles are white with tension. I’ve known about her return for a week now, but haven’t let the news set in that my one-time best friend is returning. Half of me thought this day would never happen because something would prevent her from coming home. I’m still not convinced that it will be her getting off the bus in a few seconds.
The Greyhound comes to a halt, its brakes squealing from the pressure. The door swings open and my eyes instantly scan the windows to see if I can spot Savannah. I hold my breath when I see candy-apple-red heels hitting the last step before reaching the cracked pavement. Her long blonde hair sways lightly from the exhaust blowing behind her. It’s stifling out and this is as much of a breeze as she’s going to get. She moves her head back and forth just like those stupid hair commercials my mom is always watching. She looks up and down the road before setting her hands on her hips. I shake my head, knowing that this ain’t my Savannah.
The bus isn’t pulling away so I know Savannah is still on it. I lean into the steering wheel to get a better look. The blonde side steps and allows the next passenger off the bus. This is my Savannah, with her shoulder-length brown hair and oversized clothes. She was always wearing her Uncle Bobby’s shirts when we were younger, afraid of how her body was changing. Jeremiah used to call her Mouse, and he’ll be happy to see that she hasn’t changed.
After throwing my shoulder into the door, I hop out and clap my hands once out of excitement. I rush over to Savannah and pick her up, twirling her around. “God, I’ve missed you. Are you ready to have the best summer of your life?”
“Uh, put me down, please.”
Fulfilling her request, but not ready to let go, I pull her into a hug. Her hands push firmly against my chest as she steps away. Savannah brushes off her clothes as if I’ve contaminated them. The blonde clears her throat and smiles. I roll my eyes. I know it’s probably real hard for her to stand here and watch this reunion, but it’s not my fault that her family isn’t here on time. By her looks, I’m sure she gets all the attention she wants.
“Are you ready to go, Savannah?”
“Yes, I am.” The blonde speaks up. I look at her. With her hand on her hip, she taps her toe on the ground and smirks.
“Look ma’am, I’m sorry your kinfolk aren’t here to get ya and if ya want we can wait, but I’m sure they’ll be along soon.” I reach for Savannah’s bags, but her hand stops me.
“I don’t know you,” she says quietly as she removes my hand from her suitcase.
“Excuse me?” I question, as I stand tall. “What do you mean you don’t know me?”
She shrugs. “I don’t know you and my name’s not Savannah.”
“Mine is though, and just wait until I tell my Uncle Bobby how you tried to take someone else home, Tyler King.”
Slowly turning and eyeing the statuesque blonde, my heart stops beating. The smirk is back, or it never left. I step closer so I can see what happened to the mousy brunette I used to know. Her gaze follows mine and I look her over. She’s taller, leaner and, besides the obvious hair color change, looks nothing like she did when she left here. Her teeth are straight and missing the metal that used to clog her mouth. There’s no way this woman is only seventeen years old.
I swallow hard and break eye contact. This ain’t gonna be good. When I thought she was this other girl, I pictured us hanging out. Now that I’m looking at her, the hanging out idea doesn’t seem to be the best thing for me. One thing’s for sure: New York did a number on my Savannah.
“Wow, Savannah.”
She nods, pursing her lips. “It’s Vanna,” she informs me as she stalks past me toward my truck. I follow her and mentally scold myself when my eyes fall on her cotton-covered ass. The mousy-non-Savannah mocks me in disgust. I run my hand over the back of my neck and sigh.
“Sorry ‘bout that,” I say. “Um… do you need a ride?”
She shakes her head and I deduce that I’m better off just leaving her. I’ve already embarrassed her and myself enough to last us a lifetime. I pick up Savannah’s bags and hustle back to the truck. I have a feeling it’s gonna be one long summer and once her Uncle Bobby sees her he’s gonna flip. She’s going to be every man’s wet dream in a forty-mile radius and I just know I’m going to be tasked with taking care of her. Just call me the glorified babysitter of the mousy farm girl turned New York socialite.
I remember the day she left. I thought her momma was joking when she said they were moving, so when they packed their bags and got into the car, I was left standing there, stunned. I was so hurt that I refused to say good-bye. We didn’t promise to write or even call each other. We were too young for those types of commitments. Watching her being driven away from me is my most vivid memory and one that has been replaying in my mind for the past week.
I was fifteen when she left. We’d grown up together, attending the same school, church and having Sunday suppers on her uncle’s wrap-around porch. Our mommas always joked that we’d end up married to each other as soon as she turned eighteen and we’d start spitting out babies. After a while, I just believed them. It seemed like destiny. That was until my teenage hormones kicked in, and when I discovered girls, Savannah wanted nothing to do with me. She caught me a time or two with my hands in places they shouldn’t have been and each time she’d just pretend like nothing was happening.
Even though our mommas wanted us to get married, there is an age difference between us and I matured faster. Savannah was quiet and shy, never really showing any interest in anything but her horse. Living in a small town, people have expectations and there was one on her and me, but it wasn’t like I could take her out on a date or anything. Looking at her now, I wish I could’ve.
I climb into the cab of my truck and pull the door shut. She jumps in and clutches her purse tightly to her body. I let my hand dangle over the steering whe
el thinking about all the things I want to say to her. Right now the only thing forming is the idiotic sentence of “damn, you grew up”, but I have a feeling that will earn me a slap and I’d rather save that for later in the barn. I instantly chide myself for thinking I’ll get her to the barn like that. She just got here and I’m sure she has a rich pretty boy waiting on her back home.
“Hello, Savannah. Long time no see.” She adjusts slightly, turning farther away from me, and stares out her window. Her mood has changed from somewhat friendly to icy cold. I don’t blame her. The warm reception I gave the other woman was probably what she was expecting and didn’t get.
“It’s Vanna.”
I want to laugh at how straight-laced she sounds but hold back. Something tells me she’s turned into a spitfire and that would be the spark to set her off. I’ve already pissed her off enough for one day. Her uncle said something about her getting into trouble one too many times at school and that her momma is too busy with her job to keep her under control. Apparently the answer was to send her back to where she got her start, even if she’s not going to fit in around these parts anymore.
“Savannah,” I reply purposely. There’s no way in hell I’m calling her Vanna after that middle-aged letter turner that my grandma watches nightly.
She huffs, but doesn’t say anything. I get the impression that she’s used to getting her way, especially with men. Sadly for her, life doesn’t work like that in these parts.
“How far ‘til my uncle’s house?”
I look out the windshield, pretending I need to gauge the distance. I shrug. “Twenty minutes or so.”
“Well, shouldn’t we get moving?”
I shake my head and mentally kick my own ass for how this day has started. I’d like a redo, please. Hell yeah I’d jump out of this truck and scoop her up in my arms if I knew what she had grown into, but I was remembering my reserved Savannah, not the model sitting next to me.
Cranking my key to start the engine, I’m happy for the loud roar to drown out my thoughts about her and us… in the barn. It’s never gonna happen so I just need to stop thinking about it. I need to remember mud pie, cow tippin’ and catching lightnin’ bugs.
“Hang on tight, sweetheart.” I press down on the gas as I throw my truck into drive. She slams back against the seat, her door barely closed. I’m trying not to laugh but her high-pitched squeal is cracking me up. She’s turned into such a girly girl that someone is going to have to break her out of it and it ain’t gonna be me.
Savannah
My hair is blowing in all kinds of directions as the deathtrap I’m stuck in barrels down the road. I don’t see the automatic window lever and I refuse to acknowledge or even look at Tyler. He forgot who I was! How does that happen? I haven’t changed that much and you would think that when I’m smiling at him like a freaking buffoon he would know it’s me. Who forgets their supposed best friend? The moron beside me does, that’s who.
I look over at Tyler to find him smiling. With the way my luck has been going this past month, he’s probably remembering some horribly disgusting moment in my pre-teen life that he’s all too happy to drudge up at the most inopportune time. Like when I’m hitting on my uncle’s ranch-hand. I overheard my mom asking my uncle Bobby about his ranch-hand, leading me to believe she doesn’t want me near him. She took me out of school, refusing to let me finish out my senior year because her parenting skills blow, so I’m going to do what I can to entertain myself. I need some excitement in my life and if that comes in the form of a guy I’ll never see again, so be it.
His left arm hangs out the window while the other rests on top of the steering wheel. At some point in my attempt to ignore him, he’s put on a hat and aviators cover his eyes. Chicks dig aviators. Who knew someone like him could actually wear something fashionable? I look away, not willing to get caught staring. I don’t want him to think I’m interested, because I’m not. I don’t care if he’s good looking with his tanned arms and defined muscles. So what if his shirt stretches across his chest and I can see the outline of his pectoral muscles? He made me look like a crazed fool standing there at the bus while he doted on that other girl.
My head falls against the door as I take in the passing scenery. I don’t want to be here. I’ve made my thoughts on the idea of spending my summer here loud and clear. No one was listening, least of all my mother who has it in her head that I’m some type of juvenile delinquent. One incident and I’m slapped with a label. She’s not exactly a good example of a perfect parent. Once I started high school, I was left to figure shit out on my own. I suppose when you’re one of the most sought after divorce attorneys in New York City, you put your job before your family and forget that it’s dinner time or your daughter’s dance recital. Truth be told, if my mom knew half the shit I’ve done, she would’ve sent me out here a long time ago. Getting caught was never in the plans. Who knew she’d finally decide to come home early?
My mom is being unreasonable though. Every kid experiments; it’s a part of life. My punishment shouldn’t be finishing out my senior year and spending my summer in a Podunk town away from my friends, shopping and any vice I need to numb my wandering thoughts on the miserable life I have.
We turn down another dirt road and my uncle’s ranch comes into view. My mom said I loved it here when I was a kid, always running around barefoot and catching frogs down at the pond. The thought makes me shudder as I look at my freshly manicured toes. I do believe my mother laughed when I asked about manicure and pedicure services and said something on how I’m nothing but a spoiled brat who needs a lesson in life. Of course my eyes rolled. She raised me, so if I’m spoiled it’s because of her childrearing abilities, not because of me.
The truck comes to a stop and idles in the driveway. By the way Tyler looks right now, with his cheek pulled in, he’s not getting out. That also means he’s not going to help with me with my luggage so I’m going to have to do it myself. I sigh heavily and lift the handle to get out. The door doesn’t budge. I try again, and nothing. Tyler, the asshole, starts to laugh before reaching across my legs and pushing the door open. The tingling I feel when his arm brushes across my leg leaves a burning sensation, as if glowing embers are resting on my skin. I look at him quickly, but he’s focused on the house, not me. Everything in me is telling me that I need to say thank you, but I can’t. The words aren’t forming on my lips. I’ve never felt… tongue-tied?
I shake my head and slide out of the truck, but don’t close the door until my suitcase is securely on the ground. Once I do, he’s driving so fast out of the driveway that rocks are flying toward me. A few hit my legs and I cry out in pain, anger and frustration. There’s no way I liked living here. It’s dirty and nature makes my skin crawl.
“Well, well, well, if it ain’t my little Savvy.”
As much as I don’t want to be here, I love my uncle. He’s been a father to me for as long as I can remember. My dad passed away when I was two and I only remember him from pictures, but my memories of Uncle Bobby are fresh – well, as clear as they can be after being gone for so long. I smile as he comes stomping down the steps of his old farmhouse. It looks the same, but more modern and very clean. It warms my heart to know that he’s kept it up all these years and didn’t suffer in the recession like others.
“Hi, Uncle Bobby,” I say as I wrap my arms around his neck. He picks me up and swings me around, earning him a girly squeal. This is what I would’ve done had Tyler been like this with me and not the other girl. But no, he had to make my homecoming awkward and remind me why I don’t want to be here.
“How’s my Savvy?” he asks as he sets me down.
I shrug, because I honestly don’t know how I am. My life is a wreck and is only made worse by being here. I don’t want to tell him that, but I’m sure he knows. He’s always known. If it was a bump on my knee or a bee sting, Uncle Bobby had the cure. I don’t know if he was making up for his brother, my father, not being able to be around or what, but he was t
he dad I needed until we moved away. I know I’ve changed and I suspect everyone else has, as well, but there are things that I hope are the same. If I’m feeling down, will he have homemade ice cream waiting for me? I’m hoping not because I’m down all the time and ice cream is the last thing I need right now. Uncle Bobby picks up my suitcase and takes my hand in his empty one, leading me to the house. The covered porch brings back memories of many dinners and camp outs I used to have with my mom. We lived here when I was younger because it was easier for everyone after my daddy died.
When I get inside I see that nothing - yet everything - has changed. My pictures from when I was little adorn the walls and the house still smells like home cooking, something that I can’t get in New York. The aroma of freshly baked pie and a chicken roasting in the oven wafts through the walls. I inhale deeply, closing my eyes to try to bring up memories of running through the halls of this house. When I open them, I notice that the furniture is new and looks unbelievably comfortable. I can see myself getting lost while I watch this ranch hand work the land… hopefully with his shirt off. I step closer to the mantle and run my finger along the wood. Living in an apartment for so long, you forget how much love goes into building a home. An old picture catches my eye. It’s of me and Tyler with our arms wrapped around each other. Both of us are covered in dirt and sweat, and he’s holding a frog in his hand. We were so close and probably would still be if I hadn’t been forced to move. When you’re young and dependent upon others, what’s important to you slips through your fingers. I thought of him until he just became a memory that I kept to myself. None of my private school friends cared about the stories I had to tell.
“Come on, there’s someone in the kitchen who has missed her girl and is dying to see you.”
I shuffle my feet into the kitchen to find my Aunt Sue hunched over the sink. She turns and gasps, covering her mouth as her eyes start to water. I fall into her arms and shed the tears that I had been saving for when I’d see her again. When we left, I begged my mom to bring us back to visit, but we never had any time. Her career was important to her and because of that I’ve lost time with my two favorite people.
The Reeducation of Savannah McGuire Page 1
