50. Everly
“How’d you know about this place?” I asked Real as we stepped into the rustic axe-throwing venue.
It was a converted barn, its wooden walls echoing with the satisfying thunk of axes hitting targets. Strings of fairy lights crisscrossed above us, casting a warm glow that mixed with the dusk filtering in through the big windows.
He smiled down at me. “You oughta know how word gets around in farm communities.”
“What you know about farm communities?” I challenged.
“Plenty.”
Rolling my eyes, I couldn’t help laughing at his lying ass. “Be so for real, Montréal.”
My familiarity with the game and with this location meant that we were set up quickly. He must’ve gotten advice from Emory about this date. My sister no doubt wanted me to outdo him, and axe-throwing was kinda my thing. It was also hard as hell. After this little activity, I bet he’d think twice about pursuing a country queen.
"All right, you ready to show me what you got?" I teased, handing Real an axe with a mischievous grin.
He chuckled, rolling his shoulders. "Love, I was born ready. But don’t get mad when I show you up. Now, ladies first.”
We exchanged playful banter, the kind that somehow felt second nature between us. I took my stance, feet planted firmly and let the axe fly. It hit the target, just shy of the bullseye.
"Not bad," Real complimented, before taking his turn.
My jaw dropped when his ax landed just below my mark.
"Looks like you might have a little country in your bloodline," I said, my voice light but carrying a hint of admiration.
“Looks like.”
I knew Real was in great shape, yet watching him toss that axe like a hood lumberjack made my heartbeat thump in places nowhere near my chest. It was a sin and a shame to be that damn fine.As we continued our game, the barn filled with people and laughter. We got the occasional comment from nearby onlookers who were impressed by our skill.
“What you looking at back there?” I flirted, glancing over my shoulder.
He walked up on me so that he could lower his voice.
“You throwing that axe with your whole body. Gives that thang an extra bounce when you do that.”
“You like it better than the bounce from when I’m taking back shots?” I murmured, remembering the other game at play… the one he was going to lose if he thought he could really deny me sexually. Yeah, I needed to make a clean break, but a girl had her pride. His saying no to me was a challenge.
“That’s more of a ripple, and ain’t nothing I like more than that wave, shorty.”
My triumphant smile morphed into a scowl when he added, “Too bad I gotta stay on land for the foreseeable future.”
My smart ass reply was cut off by the appearance of my cousin, Ajani , with his fiancée, Akeira . I hugged them, then made quick introductions. Ajani gave Real a hard-eyed stare that Real returned.
“You good, cuz?” he asked.
“Just fine, AJ,” I assured him, easing the tension. They ended up joining us. Both of them were terrible, and I laughed more than I had in a long time.
After our session, Real and I headed back to the Miller Homestead. The sun was setting, painting the sky in rich hues of orange and pink. Real led me down a narrow path that it turned out my grandmother had shown him, through a large field. The sounds of crickets and frogs beginning their nightly symphony was a familiar soundtrack to our slow ambling.
"You’ve got a little surprise waiting for you," he said with a mysterious note in his voice.
"Oh, really? You and Granny Nette really been plotting, huh?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Maybe," Real replied, chuckling. "She might’ve whipped up something sweet for us."
We finally stopped under a huge Live Oak by the big pond, one of two that we used on the property. The water was still, reflecting the vibrant sunset. A wicker basket, a small fire extinguisher, and citronella candles awaited us. Real opened the basket to pull out a blanket, and I saw that it was filled with Granny Nette’s famous pecan pralines and a thermos, no doubt of ice water, to keep the sugar from being overpowering.
"She’s outdone herself as usual," I said as he joined me on the blanket after lighting the candles a safe distance away from the fabric.
We snacked on the pralines, savoring the rich confection. Real looked out over the pond, then back at me. "So, these dating rules of yours… how you come up with them?"
I leaned back, propping myself up on my elbows. "Oh, you know. A lifetime of men trying to play in my face. So, I figured, why not get something out of it? I’ve felt unseen half my dating life. My rules make sure that my visibility is on my terms.”
"Isn’t it gon’ get old? You don’t think everyone wants to be loved and fulfilled?” Real asked, sounding genuinely curious.
I shot him a sidelong glance. “Don’t you mean every woman? Men assume that about us. You think you’re the only ones who can play the field?”
His mouth twisted into a wry smile. "All right, shorty. I’ve been fast and loose before, but it’s different with you."
I sipped from my cup of water, not sure I wanted to touch that. I had to know, though.
"Different how?"
"I’m thirty. And I’ve been thinking a lot about what I really want out of relationships lately."
For a moment, I stayed silent, letting his words hang in the warm evening air.
"And what’s that?" I finally asked, my voice soft.
"You," he said simply. "I like you quiet and feisty and I like fierce and funny. I love that you somehow have the ability to submit and an attitude that doesn’t take shit from anyone. I love how clearly smart and thoughtful you are. Your presence, no matter how limited it’s been sometimes, affected me in a way no one else’s ever has. It’s not just the chase, Love. I know you think that. Hell, if I had to choose, I’d take the still moments, the peace you bring me, every single time.”
No one had ever, ever undone me like this man. I swallowed, fighting to keep my composure. "You scare me, you know that?” I finally admitted. “This was supposed to be shallow. No substance. You make it feel too damn real. And the idea of something real… it’s terrifying. I’ve learned you can trust someone, care about them, and still not really know them."
Real shifted closer, his gaze steady. "Do you really think you don’t know me?"
I hesitated. "I know there are parts of you I’m not seeing. I know you’re engaged in things I know nothing about."
"Love… do you really feel like you don’t know the parts of me that matter?" He voiced the question differently. "I’ve shown you more of my real self than I’ve shown any other woman, even with the limited space you gave me. Anytime we shared an after-work conversation, a laugh, or lately, a night—those have all been times where who I am has been right there in front of you.”
I was quiet, considering his words as darkness descended around us.
“Okay, shorty. I can tell a nigga done pushed you enough tonight. You got a lot to think about. Enjoy this little break I’m about to give you, cuz I’m not coming up off yo’ ass. You talking about shallow, but I’m telling you I’m tryna go deeper. You been knowing that about me, though, Love."
A cocky little smile played around his lips at his double entendre. I met his gaze, my heart pounding. The night felt electric, charged with the kind of energy that promised adventure.
“Real?”
“Hmm?
“Tell me your biggest fear,” I requested.
I waited for him to refuse, really kind of expected it. But I guess he realized I needed some kind of quid pro quo. He responded with no hesitation.
"Losing the people I care about. My turn. What’s your guilty pleasure?"
I paused, then laughed. "Erotic FanFic. If you could live anywhere, where would it be?”
“I think home is more about a person than a place,” he said, surprising me. “Tell me something on your bucket list.”
“The tour of Africa my parents are on. Tell me one thing you’d change about yourself.”
His response time was a little longer, prompting me to tilt my head and grin.
"Ah, too slow!" I crowed, then pointed at his shirt. “Take this off.”
“Wait, what the hell, Love?”he asked, that gorgeous smile of his lighting his face. “I swear you pull rules out ya ass.”
“Did I neglect to mention that one?” I asked smugly. “Yeah, if you don’t answer fast enough, you lose a piece of clothing.”
“So, this like strip poker speed-dating? Whatever, shorty,” he pulled the shirt over his head and tossed it aside. "I’ll play your game, but it ain’t gon’ end like you think. What’s something you’ve never told anyone?"
I felt the emotional weight of the question. "That sometimes I feel like I’m not good enough." I admitted it quickly, the vulnerability surprising us both.
Real’s gaze softened, but thankfully, he didn’t linger on my answer. “Alright, what’s something you regret?" I queried.
He paused, struggling with that one. "Not taking chances when I should’ve," he said, his voice serious. Then, he added with a grin, "I know that took a minute. That’s another piece for me, I guess."
He kicked off his shoes, and we both laughed, the tension easing. The game continued, each question probing a little deeper. As the night wore on, the pile of discarded clothing grew, as our inhibitions shrank.
"What’s something you’ve been wanting to tell me?" I asked as we wound down, my body reclining against his.
Real didn’t hesitate this time. “How I feel about you, but you ain’t ready to hear it."
My heart skipped at his confession, warmth spreading through me. I smiled, a little shyly.
"What’s one thing you’d never change about yourself?” he asked.
"My ability to keep going, no matter what.” I was proud of myself for that."What do you see when you look at me, Montréal?"
He looked at me, his gaze intense. "I see someone who’s strong, beautiful, and worth every risk."
I swallowed, feeling exposed but also exhilarated. "All that while I’m worried about you seeing all the messy parts of me."
Real reached out, brushing a stray hair from my face. "I’ve seen enough to know I want more," he said softly.
For once, I didn’t protest when he pulled me into his lap. My hands found his, fingers interlocking naturally. We moved toward each other, our bodies fitting together seamlessly. He leaned down, capturing my lips in a kiss. I melted into him, losing sight of everything else. Damn this man and his wicked, wicked mouth. The kiss was both tender and filled with the promise of more. His hands stroked me lightly, and I couldn’t help the soft, satisfied purrs that escaped me. Finally, he pulled back to look at me.
“Ay, mama, stop making them sounds. Making my dick hard, and I told you this wasn’t gon’ end like you wanted.”
“You don’t think so?” I taunted, letting my fingertips trail down his bare chest.
“I know so, Love. You don’t know how bad I want to take you down. That’s not what tonight is about. You out here giving niggas a chance you never gave me. Like dating the McKinley boy?” he scoffed. “I gotta fight you to take you to my mom’s joint and you willingly spending time with that pussy? Fuck outta here. I want to date the fuck outta you, and you roll them pretty eyes and pull out that foul ass playbook?—”
“Which you proceed to ignore, and I let you. While you're talking about people getting chances, no one has gotten more chances than you!” I replied incredulously. I couldn’t believe he even tried that.
A slow smile curved his perfect lips. “Keep it like that, shorty. Cuz I’ma destroy all of them rules and walls you put up. You gon’ admit how you got feelings for a nigga and?—”
“Feelings? I’m just tryna be a kept woman,” I said, jokingly trying to shift the moment.
But the joke fell flat as his eyes darkened and grew more serious. “Good. Cuz I’m definitely keeping you,” he vowed.
I didn’t answer, just leaned into him. I could feel the steady beat of his heart, a rhythm that matched my own. I refused to think too much, instead enjoying the moment, wrapped up in him and the warmth of the night.
“You hear me, Everly Love?” he pressed.
I burrowed closer to his heart. “Yes, Montréal Idris. I’ll think about it.”
That was all I could give him, but I hoped he realized how much it was.
“We should make this a regular thing," he suggested after a while.
"What, losing clothes in the middle of nowhere?" I teased.
"Yeah, if it ends like this.”
He pulled me closer, and I laughed softly. "I think I can agree to that, too."
“I should get you back to the Stone House. You got an early morning tomorrow.”
I frowned. “I do?”
“Yeah. You gotta go check out your building, start figuring out your plans for it.”
My eyes widened. “Real! You didn’t! I told you?—”
“Your mouth said one thing, but your eyes and your body language said another. With you, I gotta pay attention to the non-verbal cues. You let me buy you things before?—”
“Not a damn building!” I protested.
“You let me buy you things before,” he insisted ignoring me. “This is yours. No strings. Get used to that, Love. Rule number 763: You want it, I get it.”