A chuckle escapes him at my response.
“Well, I’d say the same, but nice wouldn’t be the word that I would use. I’d use gorgeous, stunning, captivating… sexy,” he replies with a cavalier smile.
“Aww… I’m sure you tell all the girls that. You ready to go?” I ask, laughing at his flirty ways.
“After you.” He waves his hand out in front for me to lead the way. Just as I pass by him, his hand catches my elbow, stopping me. “And just so you know, I don’t say that to all the girls. Just some.”
“At least you’re honest. I’ll give you that much,” I reply as he releases my arm. “Is Brantley going to meet us there or here?”
“There. He said he needed to take a shower and pick up some stuff, so I thought we could ride together.”
“That sounds good. Wanna take my Jeep?”
“Hell, yeah! Don’t get me wrong. I love my truck, but I’ve been eyeing your Jeep since I first saw it,” he says coyly.
“Ha! I knew it,” I shout. Earlier, I thought I saw him looking at my Jeep as if he couldn’t wait to get his hands on it. Then I took a look at his black Ford F-250 on a lift kit, and figured I was wrong.
“Oh, yeah? Well, don’t think I didn’t catch you eyeing my truck. Admit it. You wanna drive it just as bad as I wanna drive your Jeep,” he counters, laughing at my shocked expression.
I give him a curt nod, turning away from him. “Touché, Mr. Adams, touché.”
After driving down numerous dirt roads, the bonfire finally comes into view. Flames dance, swaying left and right, in the hot, Texas summer night. The sound of people laughing and singing mixes with the crackling of the fire as Randy Houser’s Runnin’ Outta Moonlight blares in the background. The soft orange glow of the fire illuminates the shadows as people dance in front of it. As we park, Wes looks at me, wiggling his eyebrows. “Let’s have some fun.”
With a wide smile, I nod. Adrenaline pumps through my veins as I take in the party. I may not be a big drinker, but I do love to dance.
The sounds of Boys Round Here by Blake Shelton blares from somewhere off in the distance. I crane my neck to look out the top of my Jeep, and then stand on the seat to see who it is. A wide smile reaches from ear to ear, and I start laughing. Figures. It’s something Brantley would jam to at a deafening level. His tires pick up dirt and rocks, kicking them back behind his truck, making it look like an Arizona dust storm.
The back of his truck fishtails when he comes to a screeching halt, and the smell of burnt rubber wafts through the air. “The party is here y’all!” Brantley shouts, hopping out of his truck and running around the front to meet us at the Jeep. “You ready to party, Kenleigh?” he asks, rubbing his hands together as if he has some kind of plan.
“You know, this isn’t my first bonfire, Brantley,” I say through a chuckle.
“Maybe not, but it’s your first one here. So, get your pretty little ass out of that Jeep, and let’s get you a drink,” he says, nodding toward the party.
“Brant, man, ease up on her, will ya? We’ll be here a while. I’m sure it’s more than enough time to try and get her drunk,” Wes intervenes, laughing at our friend.
“Yeah. Whatever. Look, since y’all are still sitting in the Jeep, I’m gonna go ahead and get a drink,” Brantley says, walking off. Looking back over his shoulder as he jogs toward the party, he shouts, “I’ll catch y’all later?”
As we climb out of the Jeep, someone yells in our direction, walking, or swaying–however you want to look at it—past Brantley. “No! Fucking! Way! Wes, man, how the fuck have you been?” The guy is a solid four inches shorter than Wes, and not nearly as built, but that’s all I can make out in the dim lighting.
“Hey, Reid. I’ve been good,” Wes answers.
“It looks like it.” Reid’s eyes roam up and down my body before he thrusts his hand out to me; I skeptically take it in mine. “Hey, there. I’m Reid, since he seems to have forgotten his manners. I’m this fucker’s closest friend. Well, until he moved away, that is.”
“I didn’t forget to introduce you, dick. You didn’t give me a chance to,” Wes interjects laughing. “This is Kenleigh.”
“I like it. I’ve never heard that name before.”
“Thank you,” I reply, pulling my hand from his grasp.
“Well, the party is over there, y’all.” Reid points in the direction of the fire, as if we can’t see that for ourselves. “The keg and cups are over by Leslie’s truck, so help yourselves.” He turns his attention back to Wes and me. “Later?”
“Later,” Wes replies with a nod.
Just as Reid turns around, sauntering back towards the crowd of people, he yells, “Y’all won’t believe who the fuck is here!?”
I watch as Reid stumbles his way back over to the party, but when Wes wraps his hand around mine, my attention shifts to him. His hand is calloused, strong, and warm—nice. My dad always taught me that calluses on a man’s hands prove that he works hard for a living. I notice how well my hand fits in his as I look down at our joined hands. Lifting my head to meet his stare, he whispers in my ear. “Stay by my side, okay?”
“All right,” I reply breathlessly. Maybe I shouldn’t drink tonight, because his proximity alone leaves me already feeling intoxicated. With a tug on my hand, he leads me towards the amber colored flames of the bonfire.
The stifling heat of the fire reaches about ten feet away from it. As we make our way closer, I hear a chorus of people chanting, “Hey Wes!” He just waves and nods his hellos. It’s funny, but he seemed much more vocal back at the house.
I squeeze his hand to get his attention. When he looks down at me, I ask, “I thought you knew all of these people?”
“I do. Most of ‘em anyway. Why?” he asks with a perplexed look.
“I don’t know. I just figured with them being friends of yours that you’d be stopping every five seconds to say hi to someone.”
“I thought we’d get a drink before I’m swallowed up by conversation about high school, football, and what all I’ve been up to since I moved to Dallas.”
Thank God, he can’t see the blush on my face because I feel like an idiot. “Oh.” There’s not much else I can say. I think I’ve inserted my foot into my mouth far enough. Here I thought he was being rude, but he just wanted to get a drink.
“How about that drink now?” he asks, with a smile.
“Sounds great.”
“Do you want a beer or a mixed drink?”
“I’ll take a beer. I don’t really drink liquor, unless you want to babysit me all night long, which I’m pretty sure you don’t.”
“I don’t think I’d mind babysitting you,” he replies with a cocky smile.
I’m not going to reply to that, so instead, I give him a pointed look, which I’m sure is hard to see in the dark.
He obviously caught my expression because he laughs. “Right. Now let’s get you a beer.”
Wes lets go of my hand, leaving it cold and lonely, to get us each a beer. I lean back against the tailgate of someone’s truck while Wes pours our drinks. I look around, taking in all the people around me. To my left, the sound of rushing water lets me know that there’s a creek nearby. To my right, a group of guys stands in a circle, holding red solo cups, and laughing loudly. Straight ahead is a cluster of guys and girls, some embracing each other, while they all converse. Another bunch stands around the fire, dancing to Florida Georgia Line’s Round Here.
“Here you go.” I hear Wes say in my ear as he hands me my cup.
“Thanks.” I smile up at him before I take a drink.
Just as I’m about to say something, a blonde with really large breasts, and a way-too-tight outfit pounces on Wes, wrapping her arms around his neck. Her drink spills over the edge her cup and splashes onto the ground. “Oh my God! I can’t believe you’re back in town,” she slurs. “I knew you’d come back to see me. It’s been too long, Wes. Riley said I was crazy to sit here and wait for you, but I knew once you got that
whole bull riding thing out of your system, you’d come back.”
I watch as the scene unfolds around me. I know that I have no claim to him, but hasn’t she noticed that someone else is sitting here? “Hey, Les. I’m not back for good. Just for the summer,” he replies, not showing her the same type of affection she is showing him.
I watch in disgust as she nuzzles his neck, trying to elicit some kind of response from him. “So, you’re going back to Dallas?”
“Yep.”
“Hey, I’m going to see, uh… if I can… find Brantley,” I tell Wes, pushing away from the truck.
He turns his head, looking at me, as if he just remembered that I’m here. “Wait, I’ll go with you.”
“It’s fine. You seem to have your hands full anyway,” I reply, shaking my head.
“Who the fuck are you?” Leslie sneers. Drunk and rude. This should be great.
“Nobody.” I roll my eyes and turn away from what I’m sure could easily become a confrontation.
I can hear Wes yell for me to wait up, but I act as if I don’t hear him and venture off in search of Brantley. Pushing my way through the throngs of people, I finally find him after a couple of minutes, but not the way I expect to. He dances shamelessly with a petite, red head. One of his hands roams down her ribs, grips her hip, and pulls her into him, while the other hand holds a cup. They are clueless to the people around them. I don’t want to interrupt, so I turn around and make my way over to the creek.
The sounds of the crickets chirping mix with Brantley Gilbert’s Kick it in the Sticks. The music and sounds of obnoxious laughter fade to a lower decibel as I leave the party behind me. I am so not drunk enough for this. I take a seat at the creek’s edge. The sound of the rushing water helps soothe me. I slip off my cowboy boots and slide my feet into the water below, and welcome the cooling sensation. My once-cold beer is warm now, but I take a drink anyway. I sit in silence for a while and let the sounds of nature wash over me—peace takes over. My mind drifts off to thoughts of home—my summer home that no longer exists. A smile spreads slowly across my face as I close my eyes and let myself think about how my mom and I used to hang out and read next to a creek just like this.
“Kenleigh, why don’t you tell me about this Corey boy?” Mom says to me.
“What Corey boy?” I ask, feigning innocence. How she knows about him beats me.
“Come on, I saw your notebook before school got out. His name was scribbled all over it,” she says with her eyebrows almost meeting her hairline, daring me to prove her wrong.
A blush automatically consumes me as I turn to look at her. “Oh my gosh, Mom, he’s so cute. He has the darkest brown eyes I’ve ever seen. You know, like chocolate. And when he smiles, his dimples appear.” I laugh at how ridiculous I sound.
“And does he know you like him?”
“I don’t know. Maybe?” I answer coyly.
“Well, have you told him?” she asks.
“Mom! No! I can’t do that,” I answer, covering my face from embarrassment. I can’t believe she actually asked that.
“Why not? You like him don’t you?”
“I do, but what if he doesn’t like me? I would be so embarrassed. That type of embarrassment sticks with you, and follows you all the way to high school, you know.”
A boisterous laugh escapes her as she tries to speak, but she can’t because she’s laughing too hard. I join in with her because her laughter is just too contagious not to. “Honey, you’ll never find out if you don’t ask,” she says, patting my leg.
“Isn’t it the boy’s job to chase after the girl, anyway?” I ask childishly.
“No. I chased after your father. I annoyed him to no end, and look where it got me. A happy marriage with my best friend and the most beautiful daughter in the world. If you don’t go after what you want, you might miss out on something good,” she says with a solemn look on her face.
“I can’t believe you chased after Daddy, but at least you got one thing right. I am beautiful,” I reply, tossing my hair over my shoulder.
My reprieve ends when I feel a tear trickle down my face. I drain the remaining contents of my cup to help with the pain of how much I miss my mother.
“Here, let me get that for you.” I jump at the sound of Wes’ voice.
He’s sitting next to me on the soft grass, his long legs stretched out in front of him as he leans back on his elbows. I wonder how long he’s been here. He leans on one elbow, reaches his hand up, and the calloused pad of his thumb grazes my cheek as he swipes away the stray tear. “How did you know where I was?” I ask, completely shamed by my crying.
“I didn’t. I went looking for you, and this is where I found you. Why were you crying?” His eyes search my face, waiting to see if more tears will fall.
“I was remembering,” I whisper, turning back to look at the creek.
“Remembering what?” He honestly wants to know, and I have no clue why.
“So you’re a bull rider, huh?” I ask, shifting the subject away from me.
“That was a nice move, but yeah, I’m part of the PBR.”
“Professional Bull Riders,” we say in unison.
I ignore his ‘nice move’ comment. “I know what it is,” I say, smiling at him. “So, are you like big time or something? You must be really good to have gone pro.”
“I don’t suck, if that’s what you’re asking,” he answers with a playful smile.
“I didn’t… I didn’t mean… I didn’t mean it like that.” I turn away from him, trying to hide my embarrassment.
He laughs and nudges my shoulder with his, urging me to look at him. “I was just kidding with you. I know you didn’t mean it like that. But to answer your question, I’m not the best, but I’m pretty good.”
Wes’ reply sets me at ease, knowing that I didn’t offend him. “Don’t you ever get scared?” I ask, fascinated by his career choice.
“Not really. I like the rush it gives me. Like, when I hop on that bull, it’s just me and him trapped in that pen together. When I tuck my hand under the hard, worn leather of the bull rope and wait for the cage door to swing open, the surge of adrenaline that I get makes my career worth it.”
“No offense, I like the intensity of adrenaline coursing through me as much as the next person, but you take it to a whole other level.”
“I’ve heard that before,” he says, nodding at my comment. “But have you ever seen bull riding in person?”
“Are you kidding? I am from Texas, you know. I’ve been going to rodeos since I could walk,” I reply incredulously.
“All right, smartass.” He chuckles. “I like how you diverted my original question, by the way.”
“You caught that, huh?”
“So, are you going to tell me why you were crying?”
“Not tonight. I just wanna sit here and listen to the water,” I answer, nudging his shoulder with an easy smile and a look in my eyes that say ‘please don’t ask again’.
“Okay, but if some drunk fucker over there is the reason, just let me know and I’ll kick his ass,” he says with a wink.
A laugh escapes me as he poses his arms to show off his biceps. “Okay, cowboy. You can put the guns away now.” My laughter eases as I push his arms back down to his sides.
He chuckles, too. “I’m glad that I was able to make you laugh.”
“Me, too. Thanks,” I reply, catching his eyes. The depths of them suck me in, holding me captive.
Silently, we sit there and look at each other, while the sounds of the frogs croaking mix with the melody of the creek singing its own song. “You wanna get out of here?” He stands and reaches his hand out to me.
“Sure.” I lay my hand in his, letting him pull me up off the ground. Before I can pick up my boots, he does it for me, and leads us away from our private moment and back to my Jeep.
“Will you go somewhere with me?” Wes asks, parking the Jeep in front of the barn.
“Didn’t I already go somewhere w
ith you?” I counter, laughing at his hopeful expression.
“You did, but I want to show you something. Please?” The sincere look he gives me makes it impossible for me to refuse.
I give him a shy smile and nod at his question. As he shuts off the Jeep, I ask, “We don’t have to drive to this place you wanna show me?”
“We could, but I thought it’d be nice to walk.” He leaps out of the Jeep. “Unless you don’t want to?”
“It’s nice out tonight. I think a walk sounds perfect.”
We meet in front of the barn. “Hold on one sec.” He disappears into the wooden structure, and returns a few minutes later with a lantern and a pack of matches. I watch as he strikes the tip and places it against the oil-slicked wick. The soft glow illuminates the ground below us. “Ready?”
“Uh-huh.” We take off side-by-side behind the barn and the open fields of the property come into view. “Where are we going?”
“Somewhere I used to go a lot when I was a kid.”
We walk in silence with nothing but the sound of the wind and the howl of coyotes off in the distance breaking through. It’s nice. There’s no forced conversation, no strain of trying to find something to talk about—just us, walking in the still of the night. The sound of flowing water breaks through the quiet as large boulders come into view. I follow Wes to a set of stairs made out of large pieces of limestone that snake up behind three massive boulders. Wes starts the climb, but as I look up, my heart drops into my stomach. This probably isn’t the safest thing to do. While I just stand, watching him, he finally stops about four steps up and looks back at me still on the bottom step. “What are you doin’?”
“Um… I’m not going up there.” I stand stock still, not moving from my position.
“Why not?” By the smirk on his face, I can tell that he’s enjoying this. Only a person horrified of heights would look as terrified as I do.
“I don’t know. Maybe because I don’t want to die.” I point at the steps, the boulders, and the night sky to prove that my reason sounds logical.
Serenity Falls Page 4
