Three
Bishop, Eighteen years ago
What makes my father think I’d want to stay here for the rest of my life? Farming, tending animals, harvests, there’s no appeal there for me. I climb up the old ladder and crawl through the loft, still reeling from the fight we had moments earlier that left him storming off into the fields. This old barn on the back of our property is the perfect place to get away, especially when Dad starts talking about the future of the farm. Let Sammy have the place. There’s gotta be more out there to see. More to do. I want to go to college. I want to travel. He can talk about familial obligations until he’s blue in the face; he won’t get me to stay. Nothing could make me stay.
Well, maybe someone could.
Vivienne.
She gets me. She understands my need to go. To be free from all this. She never says it, but I think she craves freedom, too. I just don’t know if she’d ever leave Mrs. Tallulah. That old woman means more to her than even her animals do, which is saying a lot.
“Ollie?” I hear from the entrance of the barn. God, she always knows just when I need her. I wait a few seconds to answer and take in the sight of her, her long legs in a pair of shorts that hardly can even be called that. Damn, she’s grown so much these past few months. She’s catching up to the other girls at school, looking all woman. I could get in trouble with this one.
“Up here.”
“Climb down. I can’t come to you. My hands are full.”
Curiosity gets the best of me and I jump down from the top, landing on some hay bales and making her squeal.
Her pretty brown eyes light up. “I want to do that.”
“No way. Mrs. Tallulah would have my ass if you got hurt.”
She pouts at my refusal and I have to pull my eyes away from her mouth before I start having very bad thoughts about sweet little Vivienne from next door. Even though we’re the same age, she just seems so much younger than all the other girls we go to school with. Innocent. When all the guys are talking about who they’re messing around with, who’s putting out, her name never comes up. God help ‘em if it ever does.
I look farther down to keep my thoughts at bay and it’s then I notice a plate of cookies in her hand. “Watcha got?”
“Cookies.”
Her cheeks get pink as I move closer. “Those for me?”
“Yeah.”
“Why? What’s the special occasion?”
The pink deepens and she casts her gaze down. “Happy first day of summer.”
“Bullshit.”
Her eyes stay glued to her grandmother’s plate and she bites her lip while she contemplates telling me what’s really going on. “I heard you and your dad earlier. It sounded pretty heated. Cookies always make things better.”
Pure innocence. She’s probably never heard the words we were hurling at each other. Vivienne Westbrook’s too good for me.
That doesn’t keep me from wanting her, though.
“You made these just for me?” I ask.
“Yeah.”
I grab one off the plate and take a huge bite, groaning. The redness that was starting to fade comes back.
“Good? I just learned this recipe last week.” She’s proud of herself, grinning from ear to ear, cute as all get out.
“The best. Know what else makes things better besides cookies?”
“What?”
“Visits from pretty girls.”
A small gasp escapes. “I hear Lulu calling me,” she says and thrusts the plate toward me, running out of the old barn quicker than if it would have been on fire.
I follow behind her, much slower, and watch her all the way back to her grandmother’s house, where she collapses on the swing next to Mrs. Tallulah.
I was right. Visits from pretty girls do make things better.
This is going to be an interesting summer.
_____
“Want a ride, Vivi?”
Damn, if looks could kill I’d be a dead man. She’s fuming, practically running down the road to get to Mrs. Tallulah’s. I slow down, my new truck crawling next to her. I call her name again, but she refuses to look at me.
“You screwed up big time,” Sam mumbles under his breath beside me.
“Come on, Viv, it’s about to start stormin’. Let me give you a ride home.” It’s only when she looks up that I can tell how upset she is. Her puffy eyes give away the fact that she’s been crying. I throw my truck in park and hop out, wanting nothing more than to see what’s wrong with the girl I’ve come to care so much about. “Stay here,” I tell my brother.
“Why were you cryin’?”
She keeps walking, jerking out of my hold.
“It’s nothing.”
“Don’t try to bullshit me, Vivienne Westbrook. I’ve seen you cryin’ before. You can’t hide it, even if you tried.”
She doesn’t bother denying it again.
“Why were you at my house?” I ask when she doesn’t say anything. We’re getting farther from my truck, still idling on the side of the road, but I couldn’t care less about it right now. I know Viv — if we make it to her grandma’s house — she’ll make some excuse and go inside. I won’t see her for days if I’m the person she’s mad at. From the way she’s acting, this is about me. I just don’t know what I did. Hell, I didn’t even see her today.
The dark clouds are starting to rumble overhead, and I take her hand, feeling the slightest bit of relief when she doesn’t pull away from me. “Tell me what’s got you so worked up.”
She kicks at the gravel on the road, her thick, brown hair hiding her face from view. “Denise.”
Fuck. I knew getting with her was a bad idea, but a whole summer of her throwing herself at me while I was trying to stay away from Vivienne wasn’t easy. I only have so much self-control, and it finally snapped last week.
“What did she do to you?” I growl.
“Nothing.”
“Then what did she say to get you so upset?”
“Umm,” she starts, but the heat starts to rise on her cheeks as the first drops of rain fall and I know she knows.
“Nothin’ happened, Viv. She’s just running her mouth. You know how she is.”
A tear falls down each cheek, mixing with the warm summer rain. “She didn’t say anything. Annie did.”
I’ll kill my sister for sticking her nose where it doesn’t belong. She has no business talking about me to Viv. She has no business getting my girl this upset.
My girl.
If only that were true. Vivi deserves someone a hell of a lot better than me. I’m not good enough for her. No one will ever be good enough for her.
“Come here, sweet girl.” I pull her into my arms and she doesn’t resist. One deep inhale and exhale and she sinks farther into my chest. I hate to lie to her, but the truth is obviously not something she’s okay with. “Annie doesn’t know what she’s talking about.”
“She heard you and Sam talking about it.”
“She misunderstood.” Viv shakes her head against me. Rubbing my hands up and down her back, I call her name. “Look at me.” The rain starts falling harder and she does what I ask, her eyes full of hope and wonder. “I wouldn’t do that to you,” I lie. The words taste sour in my mouth. Not telling the truth is killing me, but I never imagined she’d be this upset over me sleeping with Denise Comeaux.
“You wouldn’t?”
I wipe the rain from her cheeks and she smiles. “I like you too much. And I’m guessin’ from your reaction that the feelin’s mutual?”
She looks down at her feet, her grin big and bright.
“You wanna be my girl, Vivi?”
She gasps, her eyes wide.
“Is that a ‘yes’?”
“I’d love to be your girl, Ollie,” she whispers shyly.
God, I want to kiss her beautiful mouth, but it doesn’t seem right. Not after I lied. So I bring her hand to my mouth instead and kiss her palm.
“Let me walk you to Mrs. Tallulah’s.”
“What about your truck?”
“I’d much rather walk with my girl in the rain than ride in that truck.” I’d just as soon get rid of it now that I’ve screwed Denise in the back. “Sammy’ll get it home.”
“Will you stay for a while?” she asks. Her voice is small, shy. I pull her closer and kiss her forehead.
“I’ll stay as long as you want.”