Chapter 34
CHAPTER 34
Christine
“Oh. My. God.” Lauralee’s mouth falls open as soon as she sees us. She lowers her cotton candy, and says, “Way to start a rumor.”
“No rumors. Pure facts,” Tagger says with his arm draped over my shoulders. He’s dressed to impress me, wearing his best Levi’s, a pair of spiffed-up black boots with a shirt to match. I loaned him the black hat since it goes best with it, but only after he swore to give it back later tonight.
Beck runs circles around us after too much cotton candy, as evidenced by his blue tongue and matching lips. I try to catch him, but the squirmy worm hasn’t run out of sugar yet. He’s going to crash so hard.
Holding my boyfriend around the back, I dip my hand lower and shove my hand in his back pocket. It gives me a great grasp of that firm ass, so I give it a squeeze. That earns me a lopsided grin. I say, “We decided a hard launch was best.”
“It’s hard alright.” Her eyes dart around, then return to mine. “I don’t think this town will recover once this gets out.” Moving closer, she says, “Everybody’s watching.”
“Let ’em.” Tagger shrugs. “This relationship doesn’t involve them. At least this way, they can gossip and get it out of their systems.”
“What are you talking about, Tag?” She laughs. “They still gossip about Ashton Kramer sleeping with the phone book salesman from 1982. They’re not going to let this fade away anytime soon.”
Beck tugs on Tagger’s belt loop. “Can we ride the Ferris wheel?”
“Sure, buddy.” He glances at Lauralee. “Want to join us?”
My heart squeezes from the heartfelt gesture.
“If you’re looking to spread some real rumors, this will do it.”
“Lauralee,” I playfully caution. I shouldn’t worry. If Tagger gets my humor, he’ll get hers.
The line has grown, so we get in line with our tickets to wait it out. “I’m hot,” Beck whines, kicking the grass. He pushes his hat so it’s anchored on his crown, revealing his red cheeks.
“It is quite warm,” I say, glancing at Tagger. “We should get water after this ride.”
He nods, appearing to analyze how much longer we’ll be waiting by counting the people ahead of us. “Are we interested in the rodeo?” He squats to talk to Beck directly. “Painting the house kept us busy, so you didn’t get a chance to see the sheep over at Miss Christine’s. How are you feeling about the Mutton Bustin’?”
Shaking his head is enough for his dad to respect his decision. Tagger says, “It’s okay. There’s always next year.”
As cute as it would have been to see, Beckett isn’t living this life every day. It’s still a vacation to him. I appreciate Tagger not pressuring him to do something he knows nothing about.
I rub Tagger’s shoulder when the line moves up. “The barrel racing and bucking broncos is tomorrow night. We could take off after the Ferris wheel if you think he’s ready to leave.”
We shift up to the front of the line. I think Beck is hitting a wall after two hours of being here in the heat, eating a hot dog, downing a blue raspberry slushie, devouring cotton candy, and riding four vomit-inducing rides. The joys of being a kid.
I’m certain Anna would be losing her mind if she saw her kid right now. I’m not sure if we need to get him in the shower or toss him in the river to clean up. One thing I know is that his sticky hand was enough for me to wish I brought hand sanitizer.
We finally get in a cart, but as soon as the door is closed, Beck says, “I feel sick.”
“Stop the ride,” Lauralee yells from beside him, then waves her arm out the open air above the door.
I move over to scrunch in next to them and rub his back. “It’s okay. Try breathing in through your nose and blowing out through your mouth.”
Tagger pulled the truck over three times on the way back to his parents’ house. Beck fell asleep fifteen minutes ago, so it’s a bummer to wake him up so soon. We barely beat the sun setting, so I get a view of the freshly painted house when we pull out front. When Tagger cuts the engine, I look out the window. “The house looks great.”
I get out quietly, wondering if we can get him cleaned up and to bed without upsetting him too much.
Tagger comes around and gives me a peck on the lips. “Thanks. I’m popping ibuprofen like candy.”
“Welcome to the club. That’s what I do after I spend the night with you.”
I don’t get any sympathy, but I do see a full-on smirk like he just won best in show. He shows up ready to perform alright. Every time.
Mary and Justin come out. She has her hands clasped in front of her chest. “Upset tummy?”
“Yeah.” I move so that Tagger can get him out of the truck.
She slips her arm around my back and gives me a quick hug. “Chicken broth might help. It always did with my boys.”
Tagger situates him on his shoulder. “If he’s up and wants some, we can do that. He might just want to sleep, though.” They walk to the house, and I’m left standing there not sure what to do.
They know we’re dating, but I’m not Beck’s mom, so I’m not sure I have a place where he’s concerned.
The four of them reach the porch. As his parents shuffle inside and hold the door open, Tagger turns back. Our gazes connect, and he says, “Join us.”
Closing the truck door, I go not only because he wants me there but also because it feels wrong not to be with them, not to be by Beck’s side while he’s not feeling well. I hurry in behind them before the screen door closes.
The shower is running, letting me know Tagger chose option one when it comes to cleaning up the sticky mess that is his son. Beck comes out ten minutes later dressed for bed in his cotton pj’s with little hats, books, and lassos on them. The cutest.
Beck pads barefoot through the living room and straight to me, climbing up on my lap like he intends to camp out here for a while. I don’t mind. I adore it. Sitting back, he rests against me as an animated show with talking squirrels plays on TV.
Slowly rubbing the side of his head, I can feel his body trying to give in to sleep. I’ve never held a kid like this. I’ve had friends who have babies and held them but not little munchkins like Beckett.
It doesn’t feel as foreign as I would have thought. I relax along with Beck, but over his head I catch Tagger’s eyes, feeling a soft smile forming as if my heart has taken charge.
While Mary and Justin fuss in the kitchen, Tagger sits in a chair next to his dad’s recliner. He swipes two hands through his hair, looking exhausted. Selfishly, I hope he gets a second wind. If he doesn’t, that’s okay, too. Even though this week is slipping away from us, we always have tomorrow.
It’s that look in his eyes, the one of awe and adoration that makes the butterflies come to life in my tummy, that just about does me in. The gentle smile, the mussed-up hair, and the peace he carries in his shoulders could send me to an early grave if I’m not careful.
Can life be more perfect than this right here?
Mary comes in with a mug of broth that Beck happily sips on, which pleases her and all of us. It’s good to help counteract all the junk he apparently doesn’t get back in the city. I almost feel guilty for not trying to find a vegetable to sneak in there. And we never even made it to the Peach Fest tent to try all the yummies in there.
After drinking half the broth, Beck finds sleep by the third commercial break. Tagger comes over and lifts him from my arms to carry him into the bedroom. No one bothers to change the station, which makes me think his parents want to chat.
I go first. “No entry in the dessert contest this year?”
Mary leans back, kicking her feet up on an ottoman with a contented smile on her face. “Not this year.”
“She decided to give someone else a chance,” her husband says with pride. “Her five-year streak is going to be hard to beat.”
Tagger stands at the opening of the hallway with his hands on his sides. “Better to go out on top, right, Mom?”
She looks over her shoulder at him. “It really came down to me wanting to spend time with my son and grandson more than days prepping a dish and standing at the festival all day after that.”
He comes around and gives her a hug from behind the chair. “Beck should be fine. He’s so sleepy. I told him I was going to take Pris home, though, so if he gets up . . .”
“We’ve raised two outstanding young men. We’ll take good care of him, so don’t rush home.”
“Thanks. I appreciate it.” He comes to me and offers a hand to pull me to my feet. “You ready?”
With a slight nod, I move around him to thank his parents before we’re quick to the truck. “If you need to stay?—”
“He’s doing okay. He was a new kid in the bedroom when I was tucking him in. Tired from the day, but full color in his face and happy. Though, I’m not sure he’ll ever have another blue raspberry slushie again.”
“I don’t blame him. I haven’t had one since eighth grade when I vomited on the way home. My dad had me sit in the bed of the truck with my brothers and Lauralee so he didn’t have to stop.”
“That’s rough. And not sexy in the least.” I start to laugh when he reaches over to hold my hand, and asks, “But you still are. How about spending some time together back at the barn?”
“Are you asking me to have sex with you, Mr. Grange?”
“I’m asking if I can make love to you, Ms. Greene.”
We’re still talking about sex, so it’s not the most romantic thing I’ve ever heard him say, but a lump still forms in my throat from the change in how we usually talk about it. “I’d like that. I like being with you, always.”
He doesn’t say much else on the drive over to mine. Not sure if it’s the day holding on to his muscles, the physical labor wearing him out, or that he’s still concerned about his son, but there seems to be a lot on that mind, leaving me to only guess what it might be.
Before we pull onto the property, he pulls over, shifts the truck into park, and says, “Anna might take a promotion in Paris.” I’m still not sure how to react to this shocking news. No wonder he’s been preoccupied. I reach over to hold his hand. He lowers his head, and says, “I don’t want him in Paris. I want him with me.”
Angling closer, I lean over to kiss his shoulder. “I’ll be here to support you however you need me.”
He looks over and strokes hair that has fallen loose from the ponytail away from my face. “I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
His shoulders relax, and the vibrancy returns to his eyes. “Let’s get you to bed.”
I grin, knowing exactly what that means. I also know what he’s doing when he parks a little way from the side of the house. Easier to go unnoticed once my dad heads to bed and drive away without lights shining in the windows. This isn’t my first rodeo, either.
We’re not sneaking around, but we don’t need to make a production that we’re aiming for the barn to go have sex. Excuse me, make love. I swoon a little more over that.
The horses have a garbled neigh, their way of telling me it’s time for them to rest, and the chickens are in their coop for the night. We climb up the ladder and light the little lamp on the bookcase to break up the dark.
When I turn back, he’s watching me, not with hunger, but that reverence I saw in his eyes earlier has returned. It’s just an old dress and boots with a ribbon around my ponytail, but he makes me feel like the most beautiful woman in the world.
“Want to dance?”
I move across the room, ready to melt into his arms. Slipping my hand in his and resting the other on his shoulder, I’ve seen this scenario in movies before and know my line by heart. “There’s no music playing.”
“Who needs music when we have the moonlight shining in? And a little lamp.” He starts to sway. Finding rhythm with him is easy when we fit together so well. Pulling me close, he kisses the side of my head, and says, “I love you.”
With such heavy emotion wrapped in those three little words, I lean back to look into his eyes. “I love you, too.” I’m not sure what’s come over him, but maybe some things are on his mind while driving. “Is everything okay?”
He spins me out and pulls me gently back in against him. “I think we need to talk, Pris.”
That’s not good. Every breakup in history started with those very words. I stop dancing, feeling sick to my stomach. Although our hands are still attached, I take a step back. “That statement never ends well for the receiver.”
“No, it’s not like that. It’s the opposite. I don’t want to be apart from you anymore.”
I move back in, closing the space so as much of us can touch as possible. I don’t even mean to bat my eyelashes, but they flutter for this man. “I like that. Go on.”
He chuckles, but it’s caught in the thoughts warring to slip off his tongue. “I can’t move without Beckett.”
“I would never ask you to.”
“I know, but I want you to ask me. I want you to need me as much as I do you.”
Oblivious to how much I had fallen into pretending we weren’t a thing, I’d forgotten to make sure he knew we were. I reach up to caress his cheek, and whisper, “I don’t just want you. I need you, Tagger. I don’t want to be sneaking around in barns to be with you. I want to share a bed with you every night and wake in your arms in the morning.” Holding a finger in the air, I add, “An aside, but preferably in that amazing bed of yours.”
“I can get a bed of our own, but where will we put it?”
Wrapping my arms around his middle, I rest my cheek on his chest. “I have no idea, but . . .” I look up again. “This stuff can be worked out. Just know, I want you so much, not the fantasy of you that I had in my head. I want you, the man who’s made me fall madly in love with him. And I adore your son, so however we need to work this out, we’ll do what’s best for him.”
Cupping my face, he kisses me long and slow, and says, “I didn’t know I needed an angel until you came along. Now there’s no living without you.” I’m kissed again, and as we walk our way to the mattress with tongues dancing and our heartbeats racing, we fall like we fell in love—together and all at once.
We make love, then we kiss and love each other all over again. It’s just gone ten when we kiss goodbye at the opening of the barn doors. His arms are strong and hold me so tight I’m not sure I’m getting away tonight. I freaking love it, just like him.
I lift on my bare toes with my boots in one hand and kiss him once more before he leaves. His arm comes around me, and he rubs my back while the other hand finds my ass and gives it a good squeeze.
“What the fuck?”
Our lips part before I realize what’s happening. I lower back down and look over my shoulder. The little remaining air I had in my lungs is ripped from them. “Baylor?”