I lift my left leg, hooking my foot through the stirrup as I grab onto the horn of the saddle. In one swift, fluid movement, I pull myself up while I swing my other leg over the saddle. I give Lucy a couple of minutes to adjust to my weight on her back. With no indication that she’s going to flip out, I squeeze my thighs and click my tongue. My body bounces with the movement as she walks forward, and I sigh contentedly. With the reins in one hand, I lean forward to rub her long, thick, muscular neck. “What am I doing?” I ask softly. I know she won’t answer, but that’s what I need right now. I just need to talk without anyone to interrupt me. I need to clear my head from the jumbled thoughts consuming me right now.
My hair flies away from my face as the breeze picks up. The barn grows more and more distant the farther Lucy and I ride into the pasture. How could Wes react like that? It’s a childish move to just storm away the way he did. I told him that I needed to help his mom. Maybe, I could understand if I was blowing him off for something ridiculous like painting my nails, but I wasn’t. Besides, he shouldn’t assume that whenever he calls or leaves a note that I’m going to be there at his beck and call. Then, what was that with Sarah? I would never judge her, no matter what decisions she made about her and Liam. If they want to be a fling, then that’s their business.
“Kenleigh! Kenleigh!” Someone shouts my name from a distance and tears me away from my racing thoughts. I turn my head in the direction I hear my name called. Wes. My eyes squint as I try to see his small silhouette running, I think, from afar. I pull on the reins to turn Lucy in Wes’ direction. His sprinting form is no longer small but growing larger and larger the closer he gets to me. A loud crack in the ominous sky above startles me, causing me to pull back on the reins.
“Shh, Lucy… It’s fine, girl,” I coo as the horse begins to turn in circles.
“Lucy… Lucy, it’s okay,” Wes says as he reaches us. He tries to keep his tone even as he grabs her bridle. Successfully, he calms down, only to let me have it. “What the hell are you doing out here, on a horse that’s not completely broken in, when it’s about to storm?”
Since he still has a grip on the bridle, I drop the reins and hop off the horse. I come toe to toe with him and poke him in his broad, rock hard chest. “Because you pissed me off. You acted like a childish brat earlier because I told you I couldn’t meet you—”
I’m silenced into submission when Wes grabs me around my neck and slams his mouth down against mine. His tongue slips out, sweeping against my upper lip, seeking entrance. I should protest, but I know it’s no use. Without hesitation, I open to him, granting him access. His soft, moist tongue dampens the anger running through me.
“I’m… so… sorry,” he mumbles around our kisses.
“Me, too. Now, just kiss me.” I wrap my arms around his neck as the bottom falls out. The rain lets loose, soaking us almost instantly, but I don’t care, because he apologized, and his lips are on mine. I know I probably shouldn’t give in so easily, but with him, I can’t help it. I’m falling and falling fast. The only thing I can do is hold on, and enjoy the ride.
I stand in front of the mirror as I put the final additions of makeup on. I haven’t worn it in a long time, and I hope to knock Wes’ socks off when he sees me. My hands run down the lacy material of my strapless dress. It’s the tenth time I’ve done this, but my nerves have me smoothing out invisible wrinkles. I figure, being it’s a Texas, mid-afternoon in July, I won’t overheat in my outfit. My hair’s in a low, sideways ponytail that wraps around the side of my neck and rests on top of my bare shoulder. The brown, cowgirl boots I have on blend well with my red dress. Ready to go, I pick my clutch up off the bed, make sure I have my phone, reach for the door, and set off to find Wes.
A shot of excitement surges through me as I think about the past few days. Tuesday night, Wes and I were sitting on the couch watching a movie when he mentioned that the Fourth of July was in three days. I had completely forgotten that the holiday fell on a Thursday. He said that he wanted to take me into town for the day, because the whole town pretty much shuts down and celebrates. I got so excited that we were going to be doing something together. Something that didn’t involve the ranch, that didn’t deal with our friends. It was just going to be him and me.
Last night, Liam and Sarah left to go back to San Marcos to spend the weekend with their families. Jackie went back home to Seguin this morning. I still haven’t spoken to her. I want to, but after she snubbed me on Monday, I just haven’t felt the need to clear the air between us just yet. My only problem is I know I won’t be able to let it go so easily. Wednesday night after dinner, Brantley and I were cleaning up when I asked him what his plans were for the fourth. He told me that Jackie offered for him to go with her to her family’s house. He agreed, and that was that. A part of me wanted him to stay and hang out here with Wes and me, because I am so mad at her right now, but there was a bigger part of me that wanted my man all to myself, so I didn’t mention it.
As I reach the kitchen, I spot Mrs. Sandy with her back to me, standing by the back door as she picks up her purse off a shelf. “Off so soon?” I ask with a smile.
Last night, Mrs. Sandy and I sat at the kitchen table sharing a carrot cake when she asked what Wes and I would be doing for the fourth. I informed her that he wanted to take me into town, and she thought that was a wonderful idea. When I asked if she and Mr. Will would like to join us, she politely declined. She explained that ever since their first Fourth of July together, he had surprised her with a trip every year, their first being to San Antonio’s River Walk. With a shrug, she added that ever since then, the tradition just stuck. “Yes. Will said we won’t be back until tomorrow night.” She gives me a pointed look accompanied by a mischievous smile. My skin grows warm with embarrassment as I remember the last time Wes and I were home alone together, or so we thought. “Anyway… I hope he’s taking me to the beach down in Galveston. We haven’t been in a while, and it’d be nice to dip my toes in the sand and enjoy The Gulf of Mexico.”
“What’s that?” Mr. Will asks in his deep baritone voice as he walks into the kitchen.
Monday night after I finished helping Mrs. Sandy, I went in search of Wes. I found him in the barn working with Jane and Lucy. I quietly approached him. He must have known I was already there, because he apologized for acting like a child for the second time that day. I didn’t disagree with him. I accepted his apology and offered him my help. He helped me to mount Jane, and I leaned down, silently asking for a kiss with my lips puckered and waiting. Wes, all too happy to oblige my request, deepened the kiss. When we heard a throat clearing, we looked to where the sound had come from, and saw none other than Mr. Will. I don’t know how I expected him to react, but when all he did was nod at Wes and say ‘Good job son’, I couldn’t help but laugh. I figured that Mrs. Sandy had told Mr. Will about me and Wes and the shower incident, but I was wrong. And thank God, she didn’t, because I would have been mortified if Mr. Will knew how she found out about Wes and me.
“I was just telling Kenleigh that I hope my surprise is the beach.” Mrs. Sandy turns around and winks at her husband. I watch his smile widen a fraction as he takes in his stunning wife. In a white, long, flowing skirt, open-toed brown sandals, and olive green shirt, Mrs. Sandy exudes radiance. Her blonde hair’s pulled halfway back in a clip, flowing in soft curls down to her shoulders.
“You and the beach,” Mr. Will grumbles. “Don’t you remember the last time we went to the beach?”
“I told you to put on sun block, you big baby,” she laughs, shaking her head. “William here,” she points at her husband, “did not want to listen to me. I think his exact words were ‘I’m not afraid of a little sun. Hell, I work in it every day’, but he failed to remember that he’s always in long sleeve shirts when he’s working outside.”
“Okay, drop it,” he sighs.
She arches her eyebrows at him. “I will when you say the magic words.” Her tone is taunting, and I can’t help but smile
at their playful banter.
Magic words? Oh, this ought to be good.
“I don’t think so woman,” Mr. Will argues as he digs his keys out of his pocket.
“William Wesley Adams… Say it.” Mrs. Sandy throws her hand on her hip. I can see the struggle she’s having as she tries not to smile.
“Fine. Fine. You’re always right,” he grumbles out, but then I catch the corners of his lips tug into a grin.
Mrs. Sandy jerks her head in a nod and chuckles. “And don’t you forget it.”
Mr. Will looks at me and says under his breath, “Those words always taste like poison on my tongue. But as long as it makes her happy, I’ll tell her she’s right every day for the rest of our lives.”
I flash a smile at him as my phone dings with a text message. “You’re a smart man, Mr. Will. If you’ll excuse me, it’s probably my aunt.” I smile and pat his arm before I leave the kitchen and move toward the living room. Pulling my phone out, it’s Wes. Last night, he had to go into town, and asked if I needed anything while he was out. Although I said I was good, he thought it would be a good idea if we exchanged phone numbers, just in case I remembered anything that I might need. We haven’t really felt the need up till now to exchange phone numbers, since we’re always around each other, and our rooms are right across from one another.
WES- Meet me by the truck
Me- On my way out xx
“We’ll see you guys tomorrow sometime. Be safe and call if you need anything,” Mrs. Sandy hollers from the kitchen. I lift my head to catch her and Mr. Will walking out the screen door.
“You too! And Happy Fourth of July!” I shout at their retreating backs as I drop my phone into my clutch.
My eyes roam around, looking at the lock on the front door that no one ever uses to make sure it’s locked. With my check complete, I walk through the kitchen and out the back door, locking it behind me. As soon as the screen door shuts, I spin around, my eyes widen from surprise, and my jaw is agape. My eyes start to water, and a smile spreads across my face when I see Wes, standing against the tailgate of his truck, in a pair of blue jeans, a gray T-shirt, brown cowboy boots, and a white baseball cap. But what catches me off guard is the bouquet of flowers in his hand. I fly down the stairs, across the walkway, and through the lawn. I can’t get over to him quick enough. Right as I get to him, I leap into his arms, and he catches me. With his arms bound around my waist, and mine around his neck, he spins me in circles, and laughs. “If I would have known my baseball cap had this kind of effect on you, I would’ve worn it a lot sooner,” he says, kissing the tip of my nose.
“Oh, yes, the hat does have quite an effect on me, but it’s the flowers in your hand that did me in,” I say huskily as I lean down, barely brushing my lips against his.
“Oh, yeah.” He lets me slide down his body before he releases me. He clears his throat while he hands me the flowers. “These are for you.”
The beautiful bouquet is a mixture of white daisies, yellow roses, and orange chrysanthemums. I lean in to smell the flowers. My eyes drift close, and a smile spreads across my face. Smells just like summer time. I look up at him and whisper, “Thank you. No one’s never given me flowers before.”
He nods and shyly smiles. “I’m happy to be the first one then. You ready?”
“Absolutely.”
He places his hand on the small of my back and leads me to the passenger side. After opening my door, he helps me in. As I smooth out the bottom of my dress before I sit down, I catch his eyes studying me as if it’s the first time he’s ever seen me. “You look stunning.”
I laugh. I don’t mean to, but stunning is not a word that I’m accustomed to hearing come out of Wes’ mouth. “What? Why are you laughing at me?” His eyebrows dip low in confusion.
“Stunning? Really, Wes?” I ask skeptically.
“Does fucking sexy sound better?”
I turn in my seat to face him. My hands reach out and grab the collar of his shirt before I pull him to me. “There’s my man,” I mumble against his lips.
“I was trying to be a gentleman.”
“You are. Just in your own way. Don’t change for me. I like you just the way you are.” I capture his lips with mine one more time. When his hands glide up my thighs and around to my ass, I pull back. “Now, take me out. I’m ready to have some fun,” I whisper with a wink.
Wes squeezes my ass and groans. “And, there’s my woman.”
After we park the truck, Wes helps me out and takes my hand in his while we walk two or three blocks to the main road. He wasn’t kidding when he said most of the town shuts down. Red, blue, and white rope lights hang high above the crowd. They extend from the old historic buildings, like the ones that you see featured in western movies, on one side, across the street to the others, forming a tent-like shape. In the middle of the road, empty tables sit, draped with red and white checkered tablecloths. Droves of people are dressed patriotically, while others are dressed casually. All sorts of people wander about, laughing and talking. Kids run around chasing after each other with water balloons and water guns, screaming, and giggling.
As we venture further into the festivities, I look up at him as I squeeze his hand. “This is amazing.”
“I know. I used to love coming here when I was a kid. My grandparents always brought me.”
Vendors line the sidewalks, their stands decorated to fit the holiday, selling anything from snow cones and cotton candy, hot dogs and Coke, to fireworks. In the middle of the street, beyond the empty tables, sits what looks to be about ten or fifteen tables in a horseshoe shape. People stand behind the tables with crockpots and stockpots. Groups crowd around the tables. I watch, fascinated, as they hold bowls of something, tasting what, I’m not sure. One lone table sits a little ways away with three people occupying it.
“What’s that?” I point toward the large crowd.
Wes looks in the direction that I’m pointing. “It’s our annual chili cook-off.”
As soon as he says the word chili, my mouth waters, and my stomach rumbles loudly. I know he heard it because he starts to laugh. “Come on. They let everyone taste test.” He tugs on my hand, leading me to where my stomach is begging to be.
We have to shove our way through the throngs of people just to get up to the tables. Way more people are over here than I thought. “Reid!” Wes shouts, his hand cupped around his mouth, amplifying his voice.
I see Reid pushing up on his toes. He cranes his neck, looking around for who called his name. He spots us, and with a nod, he waves us over. Shoulders jam into me, jostling me around as Wes leads us through the crowd. My fingers start to slide from his grasp as the mob begins to close in around the contenders of the cook-off. I reach forward and yank on his arm, gaining his attention. He looks back at me and his eyes widen. “A little help here, please?” I ask, somewhat nervous of the large crowd.
“Babe, I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize.” He starts to shove people out of his way to get to me. As soon as he reaches me, Wes scoops me up off the ground, one hand behind my back, the other under my knees, right before a large burly man almost plows over me. “Watch the fuck out!” Wes yells at the man.
His eyes protrude from his head as he looks from Wes to me, and then back to Wes. “Sorry, Man. I didn’t see her.” The strange man lifts his hands in the air and retreats backwards away from us.
“You didn’t see her?” Wes asks the man like it’s the craziest thing he’s ever heard. “Then maybe you should pay better attention, Asshole.”
I feel his heart beating a mile a minute against my back as I twist in his hold, and lift my hand to his face to cup his cheek. I bring his face down to mine. “It’s okay, Babe. I’m safe,” I say softly, trying to calm him down.
His eyes close for a brief second as he takes a few deep calming breaths. “I don’t know what got into me. All I saw was how that guy was about to trample all over you.”
“Thank you. You caught me again.” I arch an eyebrow as I
peck a kiss on his delectable lips. “Now, I’m hungry, and there’s all this delicious chili around. Feed me, please?”
With a nod, he flashes me a smile and carries me the rest of the way through the crowd. When we finally reach Reid, I’m shocked to see he’s participating in the contest. “Hey, Man. How’s it goin’?” Wes asks.
Reid turns from stirring the mouth-watering goodness in his stockpot to answer. I can’t help the laugh that rushes out of me at his expression. His mouth hangs open with his eyebrows crinkled in confusion, as he looks at me secure in Wes’ arms. “Why are you holding her?”
“She almost got trampled. She’s safer here in my arms.” Wes shrugs his shoulders as if our predicament should be normal. I bounce from the movement. “The damn crowd’s crazy this year.”
The woman inside me who doesn’t like for people to fight her battles wants so badly to roll my eyes at his protectiveness, but I refrain. I pat Wes on his chest. “You can put me down now.”
He looks at me, his eyes searching mine, probably wondering if he should argue with me. Grudgingly, he concedes.
“So, Reid, whatcha got here?” I ask, peeking over the rim of his pot. The smell of cumin, peppers, and chili powder assaults my senses in the best way possible.
“Chili,” he answers sarcastically.
“Well, no shit. That was my roundabout way of asking to try some.” I cock my head to the side in hopes that he has some retort.
He looks at me for a moment before he erupts into a boisterous fit of laughter. Slapping Wes on the shoulder, he says, “Dude, I like her.”
“Me too,” Wes murmurs against my ear as his arms encircle my waist. With an easy smile, I peer up at him through my eyelashes.
“Well, not to brag or anything, but I make some of the best chili in town.” Reid pulls my attention back to him. “Tell me what you think.” He picks up a Styrofoam bowl and fills it with a ladle full of hot, steaming chili. As he hands it to me, he sticks a spoon in it.
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