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She just smiles at me for that. Then she’s quiet on the drive home. Western Ridge is quiet, even on a Friday night. The Goldrush is the only thing open this late. Then we’re on the dark highway racing back to Western Springs. Every time I glance over at her, she has a little smile on her lips as she hums along to the country music on the radio. Moonlight streams in the windows, lighting up her hair and her face. I’ve never been more grateful for a clear night. Because I’m going to remember how perfect she looks tonight for the rest of my life.
Western Springs is already shut down for the night. Businesses here have been closed for hours, so I drive right down Grove Street, not trying to hide the fact that I’m driving home at midnight on a Friday night with Lily Wilson in my truck.
I’ve driven Lily somewhere or other dozens of times over the years. But only two of those times matter. The time I drove her home from the Goldrush and fucked her the first time. And tonight, when she finally stopped fighting herself for wanting me.
When I pull up in front of her house, I turn to her. “Here you go, babe.”
She glances up at me, looking surprised. “You can just pull around the back.”
“You don’t want me to drop you off at the front first?”
“No. It’s fine. I’ll walk in the back with you.”
“You got it, babe.”
After parking my truck down the street from her house, Lily stays in her seat instead of running for the door to avoid being seen with me.
When I open her door and hold out my hand to her, she takes it, her fingers soft and warm against my calloused ones.
She holds my hand and walks with me the entire way back down the street to her house, through the yard on the uneven stepping stones, and up onto the back porch. She doesn’t even try to put any distance between us when we step into the circle of light cast by the back porch light that works now, thanks to me.
I press against her back, my hands on her shoulders while she punches in the code, and then I follow her inside, hard as a rock and ready to fuck my girl however she wants it.
chapter thirty-five
jameson
After our usual Saturday morning routine of morning sex, breakfast, and then more sex, I head out to the farm. My brothers and I don’t work full days on the weekends, but farming is a seven-days-a-week kind of job. The horses and chickens need to eat on the weekends, just like the rest of us. The fields need to be given a once over every single day. Has there been enough rain or do we need more irrigation? Has there been too much rain and we need to worry about the crops rotting in the soil we planted them in? It usually doesn’t take more than a couple of hours, but we all head out to the farm at some point on both Saturday and Sunday to check on things and do whatever needs to be done.
Jarret likes to think he’s in charge since our dad pulled back from running the farm, so he usually texts us a list of shit to do. I don’t much care. When I do, I let him know I’m not doing whatever he told me to do. And it’s always entertaining watching him lose his shit at me.
After checking on Violet and Apple Pie one last time and giving all the horses an extra molasses cookie, I’m heading out when I see Jasper walking into the barn.
“Hey, man.” I greet him, nodding. “How’d your night end up last night? You get lucky?”
He frowns at me. That’s unusual. Jasper’s always smiling. Even if it’s only to cover whatever’s going on inside that he refuses to talk about to anyone. Not even me. And I’m the talker of the family.
“I was going to drive over and look at the west fields. See how things are doing up there. Why don’t you come with me?”
That’s weird. Jasper wouldn’t ask me to drive across the farm on a weekend for no good reason. On weekends, we all get in and get out, doing whatever needs to be done so we can get back to whatever it is we’d rather be doing. He must need to talk to me about something.
He has me worried. I haven’t slept at home in more nights than I can count. Maybe something’s wrong? Jasper talks a lot of shit, but half the time his jokes are covering for something. I’ve lived with him for more than a year now since he came back home for good. I was the one who heard him wake up with nightmares from whatever he saw or did over there. However he might act with a big smile on his face all the time, he’s all torn up about it.
“Sure, man. Let’s go.” I nod and head out of the barn.
I follow my brother up to the house and climb into the passenger seat of his pickup. Mine still kind of smells like sex today. I didn’t mind at all. But I don’t need anyone else smelling it. So, I’m glad he’s driving.
Brown dust swirls behind us, leaving a wake made of the same stuff that keeps this farm going. Dirt.
Water. Dirt. Sunshine. That’s all a man needs in this world. That’s all I need in this world.
And Lemon.
Jasper doesn’t say anything, so I let him be. When we get up to the west fields, we both climb out of the truck and take a look around.
“Looks good up here. What do you think?” I ask him.
“Yeah, looks good to me, too,” he mutters, looking everywhere but at me.
