Chapter 29
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Savannah…
The next few weeks crawled by at points, and sped past at others.
It was a bit tumultuous in places, the club demanding Corvus’ time on several evenings, but I quickly realized that living as neighbors and having my own space really did have its advantages.
I didn’t feel… lonely and as totally in a strange place as I would have if I was in Corvus’ apartment.
Somehow, being in my own space, even if it was new and only steps from his door, as I was surrounded by my belongings as I was? It was less weird for me somehow.
I was grateful for that as we adjusted to this new normal of being so together, and so quickly.
Still, I don’t think I’d spent but a single night alone in my bed, or his… every night, he would come to my room and crawl into bed with me, or I would be at his place, in his. The one night, he came in, just as I was leaving, looking worn as he went to change to get ready for work.
I’d asked what’d happened, and where he had been, and he’d held me close, kissed my forehead gently, and had simply said it’d been club business; and club business meant it was none of the ladies’ business if they could help it.
I’d took his meaning perfectly and had touched his face and told him that if it was a heavy burden, that I would listen to what he could impart; that I didn’t want him to carry everything alone.
Even if I didn’t understand it. Even if I couldn’t necessarily contribute in any meaningful way, I was always here to listen.
He’d held me tight, kissed me gently, and said I was getting the ride of my life that night for that answer, which had made me laugh – and boy did he deliver; even given how exhausted he was.
Now today was the day, and I nervously packed a backpack he’d given me with outfits to last me the weekend that wouldn’t take up too much room, as he had to pack his clothes in it, too.
Thankfully, he had packed first, so I just had to fit my things into the bag that was left, which there was still a considerable amount of room since I didn’t have to pack certain things like toiletries.
I still had plenty of that sort of thing at the farm.
I was dressed to ride in almost all new leather gear. The jeans and the shirt was my own, but the leather jacket and chaps were a gift from Corvus, as were the boots and the gloves. I met him downstairs.
In the intervening weeks, his bike had returned to the courtyard and he waited at it for me, looking as nervous as I’d ever seen him.
The skies were overcast, but the forecast hadn’t called for any rain. At least not today, and it was supposed to be sunny and clear at the farm.
My family didn’t know we were coming, it was going to be a surprise, and I could almost already hear my mother’s outrage when we pulled up on the motorcycle.
My room was my own at the farm, and always would be. It was a family rule that we always had a room, a place, at the farm.
“You emptied those of everything but the bare necessities, right? Mom is going to send us back here with all that we can carry and then some,” I warned him and Corvus laughed lightly.
“Heard, acknowledged, and understood, my love; and yes. Nothing but the roadside emergency kit which barely takes up half of one of them,” he said of the hard sided cases on his bike. I didn’t know what you called them.
“Think I’m ready for a ride this long?” I asked skeptically. Truth be told, I needed the pep talk. Freeway speeds on that thing scared the shit out of me. Worse than a rollercoaster, because there was nothing between me and the rushing pavement. No safety measures to speak of.
“Baby, you’re ready, and I promise, I’ll keep you safe and it’s going to be fine.”
He held out his hand to me, the side gates already open and waiting for us to depart.
“Okay then,” I shouldered the backpack and slipped both arms through the straps and took his hand.
He helped me put on the helmet and I shooed him with a motion of my hands.
He got on and started the bike, pulling out the courtyard, and I closed and latched the gates behind us, running the chain and closing up the padlock tight, pulling on things to make sure there wasn’t enough give for anyone to slip through.
He watched me, eyes unreadable behind his sunglasses as I pulled on my gloves and went up to him, just half chilling on the sidewalk, and climbed aboard behind him.
I lied. Freeway all the way to my family’s farm was fucking harrowing.
I much preferred the lower more sedate speeds riding through Savannah traffic as compared to dodging rampaging drivers and even semi-trucks on the interstate.
Actually, the worse part was dodging shredded tire pieces from the semis.
Thankfully, Corvus took pity on me, and we stopped every half an hour to forty-five minutes for a drink or to use the restroom.
Which while I could appreciate the breaks, it was almost worse than just getting there!
The anxiety of climbing back on the bike nearly worsening every time I had to re-mount or re-board it or whatever.
Just my luck I would wind up a biker’s girlfriend and would low-key hate riding his motorcycle.
The best part about it, really, was being close to him, and holding on tight.
Pulling under the arch that said Kittridge Farms had me breathing a sigh of relief, even as going up the dirt and gravel track to the house was a harrowing ride.
The drive split in two at one point, an old-fashioned handcrafted picket sign pointing to the left saying Farm Stand and to the right, Private Property. Then another to the left saying Orchard.
My grandfather had made it, and someone had freshened it up with new paint, and very recently.
We took the right track to the house, pulling up into the drive around the giant weeping willow tree in front of the wrap-around porch.
My mom and dad were sitting on the porch swing with their peach sweet tea, as they did in the evenings, and my mom jumped up – presumably to holler at us that we had taken the wrong drive and that the farm stand was closed.
I was so excited, as Corvus cut the engine and leaned the bike onto its stand as my mother gave her spiel in her polite southern drawl.
I took off my gloves and shoved them in my pocket and undid the clasp under my chin, pulling off the helmet to shake out my hair.
“Savvy!?” my mother cried.
“Well, I’ll be!” my dad crowed, as I rushed up the steps to hug them.
It’d been almost a year. I’d been keeping very busy to keep things going.
We hugged and squealed and Mom started to cry she was so happy, and I pulled back.
“Mom, Dad, I’d like you to meet my boyfriend Corvus. We hope you don’t mind, but we thought we’d come up and surprise you for the weekend.”
My mom and dad looked past me to Corvus coming up the steps. He stuck out his hand to my dad, and said, “Corbett Prescott, everyone calls me Corvus.” He shook hands with my father, and you never would have known how nervous he was except for a slight tightness around his eyes.
“Corvus? It’s a pleasure to meet you.” My dad said his name like a question, just trying to get it right, and Corvus nodded when he did, giving my dad’s hand a hearty shake.
“Are you hungry?” my mother asked, ever the proper southern hostess. “We just finished up supper, and there’s still plenty.”
“I could eat,” Corvus said with an almost shy smile. “Savannah’s done nothing but brag nonstop about your cooking, Mrs. Kittridge.”
“Oh, please, call me Sally,” she said beaming. “And you.” She turned to me. “What have you been eating down there? You’re nothing but skin and bones!” She put her arm around my shoulders and led me into the house.
“Chance!” my mother called out for my younger brother. “Chance! You’ll never believe who’s here!” she called as we passed the stairs.
My little brother came thundering down the stairs and hopped the banister.
“Savvy!” he cried and wrapped me in the biggest hug.
“Woah!” I cried and looked up at him. “When did that happen?” I demanded. He was nineteen and working the farm – learning from dad and taking some classes at the community college now. Still, apparently, he was still growing, because last time I had seen him, I didn’t have to look quite so far up.
“Dude, I know, right?” he said and looked past me and Mom curiously at Corvus.
“Chance, this is my boyfriend Corvus,” I said and he looked at him skeptically.
“Boyfriend?” he asked. “So you mean you’re not a lesbian, or a nun?” he asked me, and Mom smacked him.
“Ow! Child abuse!” Chance declared, and I laughed, shaking my head.
“Most definitely not,” Corvus said, and I blushed, deeply.
“Gross,” Chance said, but eyed Corvus with some respect for the quick comeback.
We piled into the dining room, past the kitchen and Mom had us sit while she fixed us some plates and Chance poured us some glasses of the farm’s signature sweet tea.
“Oh, my God, I’ve missed this,” I said, taking a deep draught from my glass.
“We’ll have to send you home with some bags,” Mom said, and I winked at Corvus.
“It has begun,” he murmured with a slight chuckle.
“So, what’s Corvus mean, if you don’t mind me asking,” my dad asked.
“So my real name, Corbett means ‘crow’ and I guess some of my buddies from back in the day at boarding school think my laugh sounds sort of like a crow, so they tried nicknaming me ‘crow’ but our English teacher – who we all highly respected, said that was too easy and suggested ‘corvus’ which is the genus or species of bird that crows, rooks, and ravens belong to and it’s stuck ever since,” he explained.
I blinked, and said, “You never gave me the full story on that!” I stuck out my tongue at him and he laughed, and I loved that sound.
My dad nodded and said, “I can see what your pals were talking about!”
“I love your laugh,” I said, and not for the first time. Corvus winked at me and settled back in his seat.
He hadn’t worn his cut up here – we figured my family didn’t need to know about that part of our lives. The less, the better on that front.
Mom fed us, and my family and I caught up, with the odd question thrown Corvus’ way to keep him included. The mundane things like how did we meet, and how long have we been dating.
We told the truth on that front, that we were competitors in the real estate business down in Savannah, and that we hadn’t always liked each other.
“What changed?” my mom asked.
We decided less was more and stuck to the truth, with a few embellishments.
“A showing went bad, and I accidentally texted Corvus instead of my assistant and he got there faster than the cops and threw the man out.”
“I was closer,” he said with a shrug.
“I worried about that,” my mother said, leaning back in her seat. “I told you; real estate is so dangerous for women.”
I nodded.
“It’s also lucrative and what’s keeping us going right now,” my dad said quickly, so I didn’t have to.
My mom looked apprehensive and I said, “Corvus is who put us in touch with the tax attorney who is working on our case,” I said.
Dad leaned back in his seat, “I’m grateful for that,” he said. “Truly. So, thank you.”
We finished our late suppers and talked about the farm. Mom insisted we leave our plates and I show Corvus around the farmhouse and see Nana.
We took our leave and followed Chance up the stairs. He went to his room to carry on with his video games or whatever, and I slipped past Nana’s room. She was asleep, so I put a finger to my lips and crept past, leading Corvus to my room where we’d be staying.
I slipped inside first, switching on the light, the ceiling fan beginning a slow and lazy spin, but quickly picking up speed.
He stopped just inside and I turned to look at him, waiting to see what he would say…