Chapter Twelve
Noah
Things can change in the blink of an eye. I was convinced I’d never want anything to do with Laci Daniels. The next, I was thinking she may not be as bad as I’d originally thought. Okay, fine, I was thinking I really want to get to know this girl better. A lot better.
For the most part, as I’ve said before, I’m a pretty up front guy. I don’t like to beat around the bush. I don’t do cryptic. I say what I mean, and I mean what I say. But Princess Laci turned me on my head and had me talking all kinds of nonsense. I was saying stuff like, “I guess you’ll find out,” and being all vague. That’s not normally my style, at all. Now every time I’m near her, I don’t have a clue what’s going to come out of my mouth.
Laci spent the next week joining us for Jackson’s bull riding lessons. For the most part, she just sat off to the side and watched, occasionally she would make a comment such as, “That was smooth, Noah,” or, “Dear God, how am I related to you, Jack?” One particular time, she decided to join in and try her hand at the lesson I was teaching Jackson. She did it wrong.
We had been going over the importance of control—physical and mental—and to test it, I had Jackson close his eyes and try to walk in a straight line while I tried to distract him. I yelled and made noises, said silly things, whatever I thought might work. It was actually pretty amusing, especially when he got turned around and ended up stepping in a big pile of horseshit. Apparently, Laci thought she could do better. She walked over and told me to give her my best shot.
“You can’t disorient me,” she boasted.
Oh, yeah? I thought. We’ll see about that.
I told her to walk along the rope and started yelling things like, “Turn left!” and, “Look out behind you!” My favorite line was, “Holy hell, it’s Ryan Reynolds!” She stopped and turned her head toward me with her eyes still closed then cocked her hip to the side.
“Ha, ha, ha, Mister Hilarious. If it was Ryan Reynolds, I’d be able to smell his cologne. He only wears Hugo Boss and all I smell around here is Old Spice.”
“The fact that you know that is beyond creepy,” I told her, then commanded that she continued to walk along the rope line. She stuck her arms straight out in front of her and started groaning like some kind of extraordinarily animated zombie, then walked straight at me.
Jackson announced very loudly that he needed to poop and took off for the house in an all-out sprint, waddling like a penguin with his hands clenched over his backside by the time he reached the porch. As I was watching him in sheer amusement—what a class act that kid can be—Laci smacked right into me, then backed up and bumped against me again and again. “Hey, I think I’m running into a big, dumb tree or something,” she said, patting up and down my chest and squeezing my arms. “Okay, maybe not a tree.” She grinned as she constricted her fingers around my arms again.
One thing I refused to let her know is that I’m extremely ticklish on the sides of my ribcage, so instead of laughing, I flinched away from her touch and turned her by the shoulders to go in a different direction. She promptly turned back around and started poking and prodding at my abdomen again, stepping closer and closer all the while until her nose met my sternum. She took a deep breath in through her nose and said, “Old Spice! Hey, it’s Ryan Reynolds!” Most people would be weirded out by the fact that they just got sniffed, but Jamie used to do that to me it all the time, so it was nothing new to me.
“Chimichangas!” I laughed. I’m no Deadpool, but hey, I aim to please. Princess then started to say over and over that she just didn’t understand why she couldn’t walk anymore, and so I grabbed her by the shoulders again and spun her around once more. In hindsight, I was fully aware that her desire to join in the lesson was on purpose and a not-so-subtle attempt to instigate a little physical interaction.
After turning back around and running into me again, she said, “I’m sorry, but my feet just seem to be attracted to your position, Mr. Reynolds.” She tilted her head up, pushed up on her tiptoes, and planted a quick, playful kiss on the bottom of my chin with her eyes still closed. I couldn’t stop the ridiculous grin that spread over my face. The sexual tension between us was so palpable, I swear you could’ve cut it with a knife. I did control myself, however. I demonstrated just how strongly I fit the title of “Southern Gentleman.”
“Well, Princess Laci, it would appear that you missed the intended target. My lips,” I said slowly, curling my finger under her chin and lifting it up, “are up here,” I finished. I bent down slightly and brought our lips together in a gentle kiss. It was slow and soft, but my heart started to beat faster in a way that it never had when I kissed Jamie—or any other girl, for that matter. It was the kind of kiss that made you thirsty for more and reminded you that the world isn’t such a crappy place, after all.
I tensed a little as her hands slipped up and curled around the back of my neck. I slid one hand around her waist while the other caressed her cheek before I tangled my fingers in her hair. The kiss deepened as I pulled her closer to me so that our chests were pressed together. For a moment, nothing else existed, until I heard Jack approaching. Hoping he’d see us and just turn around, I ignored him until he shouted, “Woah! What are you doing?” No such luck.
We broke apart slowly, almost hesitantly it seemed, our eyes locked for a moment. Laci wiped one corner of her mouth with the side of her index finger and turned her attention to Jack. “Hey, buddy, we didn’t hear you.”
“Clearly,” he gawked, looking at us like we just told him the sky wasn’t blue.
“Well, I did,” I corrected, “but I-”
Laci gave me a “don't-you-even-dare” look, stopping me in my tracks, and I changed the course of my sentence. I was planning on ending it with “hoped you would walk away,” but instead, I finished with, “Actually, didn’t hear you at all.”
Jackson narrowed his eyes and lowered his voice. “You two were kissing!” he hissed, pointing his finger in an accusatory tone. “Are you guys, like, in love now?”
“No, Jackson,” Laci scoffed. Jackson raised his eyebrows.
“But Mom said people only kiss when they’re in love,” he pointed out.
Damn, what did we just get ourselves into? Luckily, Laci knew how to handle it because I was at a complete loss.
“Well, she’s not wrong. But there can be a little more to it than that. Basically, when it comes down to it, sometimes people kiss because it helps them decide if they are in love or not.”
“How can you not know?” he questioned, crossing his arms over his chest like he was challenging us both.
“It’s just that we don’t know each other well enough yet to be able to tell, but we both think that it could be possible at some point,” she explained. She’s good.
“Alright, fair enough,” was Jack’s response.
“So that’s that?” I asked. “I can’t believe that’s all the explanation you need.”
“Yeah, well, when something makes sense, it’s not like you have to keep going around in circles, Noah,” he said in that matter-of-fact tone I’ve come to expect from him. “Not to mention, I see the way you two look at each other. I knew it was bound to happen sooner or later,” he finished with a smirk.
Laci looked bewildered, glancing over at me then back to Jackson. “How on earth did you know before we did?”
Jack tapped a finger to his temple. “I know things,” he whispered mysteriously.
“So it would seem,” I said.
“Anyways, are we going to get back to it or what?” Jackson asked.
“Or what,” Laci interjected, glancing at her watch. “It’s noon, and I’m starving.”
We followed her to the house to find Sara standing over the stove, frying up hot wings. On the table, a bowl of blue cheese, carrots, and celery were already spread out. Next to those was a large pitcher of ice cold lemonade, complete with strawberry slices bobbing along underneath a layer of ice.
“Geez, Sara, you went all out for lunch today,” I observed.
“It was either this or cold cereal. So, I pulled out all the stops and decided to use what we had left in the fridge. Jack, you wanna come shopping with me after we’re done eating?” she responded.
“Sure!” he chirped, bouncing over to a chair and pulling it out. “Anything to stay out of the lovebirds’ way.”
Sara arched one eyebrow. “Lovebirds, huh?”
“I caught them kissing!” he burst out. “I came inside to poop, and when I walked back out, they were all over each other!”
“I see,” Sara sing-songed as she tossed the wings in hot sauce.
“Is that all you have to say, Mom? ‘I see?’” Jackson asked.
“I don’t think I need to say more. I’m sure they can figure out how I feel about it,” she said suppressing a grin. “I guess things are about to change a bit around here,” she finished with a wink.
It sure seemed that was a possibility, and I couldn’t wait to find out.