Chapter 14
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
LAURA brANIGAN, “SHOW ME HEAVEN”
“You’re home early,” Mom said when I walked into the house, hoping to zoom up the stairs without questions.
I stepped into the living room, where Dad was using a TV tray as his desk, with the Bible open. He was furiously scribbling his sermon notes onto a sheet of paper.
“Mini golf took longer than expected, so we had to skip the movie,” I lied.
I hated lying, although I was good at it. Not as good as my sisters, but still a worthy performance.
“You need to get registered for classes, or they’ll all be filled. Why don’t you see if Violet will let you do that first thing Monday morning before you start work,” Dad suggested without looking up from his notes.
“Okay, sure. Isaac loaned me his guitar again, so I’m going to play for a while before everyone goes to bed.” I jabbed my thumb over my shoulder and offered a toothy grin to my mom before jogging up the stairs.
“How was the movie?” Eve asked as I passed her and her friend, Erin.
“Good.”
“See any cowboys?” Eve added, stopping me cold.
I whipped around. “My room. Now.”
She smirked, following me and shutting the door behind them.
“Why did you say that?” I asked, eyes narrowed.
“Because Jody called. She rode with her dad to drop her brother and one of his friends off at the rodeo, and she said she saw you and Heather getting out of her car. Of course, I told her she must be lying because you don’t go to the rodeo.”
“I’m eighteen.” I crossed my arms over my chest.
“Totally.” Eve nodded slowly. “Is that what you told Mom and Dad?”
“It’s what I’m telling you. In two years, you’ll be eighteen too. So let’s ‘do unto others.’ Okay?”
“You owe me.” Eve opened the door.
“Are you blackmailing me?” The second the words left my mouth, I thought of Isaac suggesting I had blackmailed him.
“Call it what you want. I’m just saying you owe me.” She and Erin headed toward the stairs.
I locked my door, leaning my back against it with my head tipped to the ceiling for a long sigh. After a few seconds, I closed my shades, took off my clothes, and sat on my bed with something that belonged to Isaac pressed to my naked body.
It was silly and ridiculous. And I was never going to tell anyone that I did it—and I liked it.
Saturday morning, my sisters and I helped my parents around the church grounds, mowing, watering flowers, and pulling weeds.
“So, seriously, how was the rodeo?” Eve asked as we tossed weeds into an empty five-gallon bucket and spread new mulch around the flowers by the sign at the parking lot entrance.
I glanced around to see if my mom or Gabby were in earshot. “Awful.”
“What?” Eve sat back on her heels. “Are you serious? Why?”
“I’m serious.” I rubbed my arm over my sweaty brow. “Matt’s brother ropes. And while I thought I knew what that meant, I was totally wrong. On his horse, he chased a baby cow, lassoed its neck, and then jumped off his horse and hogtied it. The poor thing lay in the dirt, struggling and totally scared until they untied it. It was cruel and unnecessary, all in the name of entertainment.”
“That’s awful,” Eve said.
I nodded.
“Did you talk to Isaac?”
I shrugged, keeping my gaze on the flowerbed. “Yeah, a little before I left.”
“What do you think of him? He’s so hot.” Eve grinned, but she kept her head bowed as I glanced up. Her cheeks were already red from the heat, so I couldn’t tell if she was blushing, but it wouldn’t have surprised me. Isaac had that effect on women. He had many effects on them.
I shifted from my knees to my butt and leaned back on my hands, taking a break. “Matt and I don’t plan to stay together when he goes to college this fall, but I’m afraid to tell Mom and Dad.”
Eve’s brown eyes shot wide open as her hands paused with weeds clenched into both fists. “Sarah, everyone thinks you two are getting married, not breaking up.”
I stretched my legs out straight, lips twisted as I stared at my dirty old Reebok high-tops. “I know. But that’s not what we want. Not now. I feel like, at some point, we stopped being together for the reasons we first started going together. And now we’re still with each other just because everyone expects us to be together and get married. But sometimes I think, am I really going to marry my first love? It’s a big world. What if we’re together simply because there’s been a lack of choice?”
Eve tossed the weeds into the bucket and pulled off her gloves. “Sure, you didn’t graduate with two hundred other kids, and Devil’s Head is small. But it doesn’t matter what school you went to; Matt is a great catch. He’s cute, smart, and so nice. He’s respectful. And he’s going to be a big deal someday. Everyone knows he’ll get drafted. And even if, by some weird chance, he doesn’t, he wants to go to law school. He’s perfect. How can you possibly think you can do better?”
Better wasn’t the right word.
“Because he’s the only guy I’ve ever kissed. Mom and Dad like him so much that I think they want to marry him. He’s going to Michigan in the fall, and I don’t want a long-distance relationship. Yet, it’s a foregone conclusion in everyone’s eyes that we’re going to eventually get married, but I don’t want to think about husbands or college because I want to move to Nashville.” I sighed. “So, it doesn’t matter that he’s a good catch. Guys aren’t a one-size-fits-all. And now that we’re out of school, I don’t know if he’s right for me.”
Eve shifted her eyes over my shoulder to our parents. “Whoa, that’s a lot, Sarah,” she murmured. “His family owns our house.”
I closed my eyes with another long sigh. “I know.”
“I’m not saying you should take one for the team, but …” Eve wrinkled her nose, bringing her gaze back to me.
“No. It’s not fair to ask me to take one for the team. Going on one date with someone you don’t like because you’re doing a friend a favor is taking one for the team. Giving up your dreams and marrying the wrong man is ludicrous.”
“When are you going to tell everyone?”
I pinched the bridge of my nose. “I don’t know. His parents will hate me. And ours will disown me, especially if we get evicted because Wesley and Violet hold a grudge.”
“Is Matt onboard?”
I nodded, even though he also seemed to enjoy sex. And that was my fault.
My idea.
My really stupid idea.
Later that afternoon, Matt called while I played Isaac’s guitar (with my clothes on).
“Hi,” he said.
I tried to smile, but I couldn’t, and I was glad he couldn’t see me. We hadn’t talked since I ended our last call with “you’re an asshole.” With a brave inhale, I acted like it didn’t happen. “Hey. Are you home?” I asked.
“Yeah. We got home an hour ago, but I’ve been unpacking, and Dad needed me to help him and Isaac fix part of the fence. But I wanted to make sure we’re okay. I know I upset you, and I didn’t mean to.”
“No. It’s fine,” I said, “I shouldn’t have called you that. I’m sorry.”
“I was a jerk. I’m the one who should be sorry. Listen, my parents are going out with the Kirks tonight. Card club at their house. So I was thinking we should grab dinner and go to a movie. And by movie, I mean we should come back to my house.”
“With your brother?”
“Isaac spends most of his time in the barn, playing his guitar, drinking, and smoking. We’ll have the house to ourselves. I missed you.”
“Isaac loaned me his guitar again.”
“Well, bring it back. Okay?”
“Matt, he’ll know we’re there and not at a movie.”
He chuckled. “So? Who’s he going to tell?”
“What if he comes back to the house while we’re doing stuff?”
“I’ll tell him not to.”
I closed my eyes. Did I want Isaac to know I was messing around with his brother?
No. But kind of yes. I wanted to make Isaac jealous, but I didn’t want to endure sex to achieve that result. And why did it matter? Was I going to cheat on my boyfriend just to have bad sex with another guy?
Of course not.
I didn’t want to have sex with Isaac, but I wanted him to ghost his hands and lips along my skin. And I wanted him to say dirty things to me. Yes, I was going to Hell for thinking that .
“What time are you picking me up?” I asked.
“Five?”
“Okay.”
“I can’t wait.”
Rolling my lips together, I hummed. After hanging up the phone, I played the lines I remembered from “Bette Davis Eyes.”
I felt the rhythm.
The words.
And Isaac’s arms around me.
At five, I was waiting outside with my bangs pulled into a barrette, white denim shorts that hit my knees, and a loose tee that said: “Jesus Loves Me.”
I had a drawer full of Vacation Bible School shirts, and I secretly hoped Matt wouldn’t feel as eager to remove my clothes if I wore a billboard reminding him that I was his pastor’s daughter. And it made my parents proud to see me leave the house representing Jesus. There’s no way they suspected Matt was planning on having sex again with their faithful daughter.
“Hey!” Matt smiled when I slid into his car with Isaac’s guitar. He leaned over and kissed my cheek.
“Hi. You smell good.” Matt always smelled good—not Drakkar Noir good, but Irish Spring good. “Where are we going to eat?” I asked.
“Pizza Hut?” he suggested, jockeying his El Camino in the opposite direction to pull out of our driveway.
I nodded. “Sounds good to me.”
“How’s it going with Isaac’s guitar? Do you know any songs?”
I shrugged. “Yeah, I’ve figured out quite a bit.”
“Consider yourself lucky that you’re Pastor Jacobson’s daughter.”
“Why is that?” I glanced over at him.
“I’m pretty sure that’s the only reason Isaac’s being nice to you. He can be a jerk about his stuff. He’s never been good at sharing.”
“Lucky me.” I gripped the side of the seat, feeling like my emotions were all over my face no matter how hard I tried to hide them.
We ended up eating at Pizza Hut with a group of school friends. Throughout the meal, Matt gave me bedroom eyes, which made me anxious.
Take one for the team.
We got to his house a little after seven.
“What time are your parents coming home?” I took his hand as he led me into the house.
“Between nine and ten. So …” Matt glanced back at me, biting his lower lip.
So we needed to get to having sex.
Yay.
“Figured you’d be in the barn half drunk by now,” Matt said to Isaac, who was in the kitchen.
“I’m half drunk but not in the barn yet. I’m making a sandwich,” Isaac mumbled, keeping his head bowed as he spread mayo on the hoagie. “Then I’ll get out of here so you can disappoint God.”
“Shut up,” Matt grumbled, shaking his head while we removed our shoes. “Ignore him. He’s having nicotine withdrawal. Some girl he met won’t kiss him until he quits smoking.”
I set Isaac’s guitar on the floor next to the stairs just as he glanced up at me and smirked.
With a fake smile, I cleared my throat. “Did this girl say that?” I asked.
Isaac screwed the mayo lid onto the jar. “Not in so many words. But she’s mentioned my ‘disgusting’ habit on more than one occasion, so I’ve read between the lines because I’m smart.”
“Maybe she just thinks you’re disgusting and has no intention of kissing you even if you quit smoking.” I returned a toothy grin.
Matt laughed. “That sounds more likely.”
Isaac fought his grin while wrapping his sandwich in several paper towels. “Perhaps. However, when I touch her, she gets breathy and blushes from nose to toe. So I think it’s only a matter of time before she’s begging for it.”
“It’s so obvious why you’re single.” Matt rolled his eyes and headed up the stairs.
I didn’t follow him quite yet because Isaac had me ensnared in his gaze as he walked toward me. At the last second, his gaze dropped to my shirt, and an enormous grin overtook his face as he leaned down to pick up the guitar case.
“Matty’s going to bed with blue balls. He just doesn’t know it yet.” He snickered, sauntering toward the back door with four cans of beer dangling from a six-pack ring, the sandwich in one hand, and his guitar in the other.
When I reached the top of the stairs, Matt was sitting on the end of his bed. “Come here.” He smiled.
I couldn’t help but smile too. Matt was a good guy, and his joy rubbed off on everyone around him.
Except for his brother.
Joy and Isaac didn’t belong in the same sentence. He was a lot of things, but joyous wasn’t one of them .
“Shut the door,” Matt said as I stepped into his room.
I closed it and padded my bare feet toward him, and that’s when his gaze seemed to focus on my shirt for the first time that night. It elicited a frown, but I still stepped between his spread legs and rested my hands on his shoulders. I was fully prepared to have sex with him. I had endured worse. It wasn’t so much that I was taking one for the team since there wasn’t Team Sex, but I either needed to blow up everyone’s world or bide my time for the summer. And biding my time meant sex.
Hookers did it. Surely, they didn’t enjoy it. But at least they got paid for it. The fact that I kept equating my behavior to hookers wasn’t a good sign.
“Sarah, how am I supposed to feel okay about doing this when you’re wearing that shirt?”
I shrugged. “I assumed I’d take off the shirt. It’s not like I’m going to ride you with it on, so the whole time you’re reminded that Jesus loves me. He loves you, too, even if you’re having premarital sex.”
Matt looked disgusted. I remained nonchalant, acting like it wasn’t planned or a big deal. When his shoulders sagged with disappointment, I caved and removed my shirt.
“Better?” I asked.
He shook his head and covered his mouth while bolting out of the room.
“Matt?” I plucked my shirt off the floor and followed him while threading my arms through it.
He slammed the bathroom door and hurled.
The door was locked, so I gently knocked. “Matt, are you okay? Open the door.”
Again, he retched, and I wrinkled my nose with my hand resting on the door like I wanted to rest it on his back and comfort him.
“S-Sarah … I don’t want you to see me like this,” he said with a weak voice.
“Matt, everyone gets sick. It’s fine. Open the door. Do you think it’s food poisoning?”
“I don’t?—”
For a third time, he vomited.
“What can I get you? I can see if there’s some ginger ale or 7UP. Want me to do that?”
“S-sure.”
I jogged down the stairs and checked the fridge, but there was only a partial liter bottle of Squirt. When I poured it into the glass, it didn’t even fizz, but I took it upstairs anyway.
“There was only Squirt, so that’s what I have. Can you please unlock the door?”
“Just set it outside. Go home. I’m begging you.”
“I don’t have a car.”
“Take mine.”
“I’m not driving your car. If anything happened, your dad would be upset.”
“Just … Sarah …” he released a noise that sounded like a mix between a sigh and a moan.
“I can call Heather or ask Isaac to take me home,” I said with a heavy sigh.
The toilet flushed. “Do that,” he mumbled. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry. If it’s food poisoning, I could be sick soon too.”
“I hope not,” he murmured, and it sounded like his voice was coming from under the door. He must have lain on the floor.
“Call me tomorrow,” I said with a cringe.
Was it awful that I felt bad for Matt and relieved for myself in equal measure?
In the kitchen, I tried calling Heather, but no one answered. So I headed out to the barn, where I had played guitar with Isaac. I heard music as I opened the door. And once again, the creaking ladder to the loft announced my arrival.
“Out of condoms already?” he asked without looking up from the guitar. Isaac was perched on a haybale he’d covered with a stable blanket.
“Matt is sick. I don’t know if it’s food poisoning or what. I need a ride home. I don’t want to drive his car. I called Heather, but no one answered at her house.”
“And your parents?” Isaac glanced up at me.
I frowned. “I’d have to explain why I’m here when your parents are not.”
“I can’t take you home yet.”
“Why not?”
He nodded to the empty cans of beer next to him.
“Well, when do you think you’ll be sober enough to drive me home?”
Isaac chuckled, setting his guitar aside. “I’m being cut off early because you need a ride home?”
“Why do you make it sound like I’m asking you to make sacrifices for me? I’m never kissing you, so feel free to smoke. I’m never going back to the rodeo, so have fun abusing baby cows. And if you don’t want to quit drinking yet, I’ll walk home.”
He looked at his watch. “Yeah, you should be able to make it home if you walk. What time is your curfew? ”
I turned around and stepped toward the ladder. “Never mind.”
“I’ll stop drinking. Maybe I can teach you some new chords. Or I can teach you other things.”
“What are you doing?” I murmured before turning around.
“You asked me for a ride home. I’m obliging.”
I tucked my hair behind my ears and sighed while facing him. “Do you hate me, your brother, my family, God, or all of the above?”
Isaac scratched the back of his head. “Uh, none of the above. Why?”
“Because you’re toying with me, your brother’s girlfriend .”
“I’m flirting with you.”
“Why?”
“Sunday Morning,” he grinned, “do I really have to explain flirting to you? If so, my brother has failed you more than I suspected.”
“Why are you flirting with someone else’s girlfriend?”
“Chemistry, I suppose. Combustion. Fermentation. Rusting. Photosynthesis. I’m not making a conscious decision to feel an attraction to you. I just do. And thinking I shouldn’t feel a certain way or someone telling me that it’s wrong doesn’t change our chemistry.”
“Our?” I lifted my eyebrows.
“Don’t.” Isaac stood, shaking his head. “Don’t pretend that this is one-sided. You can be angry or feel guilty about it, and you can try to deny it, but that would only make you a liar.”
“What if I told you I don’t like sex?” I needed a good argument or deterrent, but the second that left my mouth, I knew it wasn’t an argument; it was an embarrassing confession.
“I’d say you need better lingerie so Matt thinks he’s having sex with his hot girlfriend instead of his pastor’s daughter.”
I glanced down at my shirt and grinned. “Nice try. I wasn’t wearing this shirt when we had it. And I don’t think it was his fault. I just think it’s not my thing.” I shrugged, owning my truth.
Isaac crooked a finger at me.
I shook my head.
He didn’t stop.
I ignored all good sense and surrendered the three steps between us, swallowing hard as I stared at his gray T-shirt that hugged his chest and biceps.
“Do you want to touch me?” he whispered.
I shook my head.
A lie.
“Do you want me to touch you?”
Another headshake.
Another lie.
“ Can I touch you?” he asked.
My pulse doubled because I could feel the heat from his body and smell his cologne. And I couldn’t stop staring at his large, calloused hands and veiny, tattooed arms. Without a sane or coherent thought, I slowly nodded.
Isaac represented freedom. I didn’t idolize him, but I wanted to shrug off other people’s opinions the way he did. He was self-aware and had an enviable confidence. I wanted to focus on things like chemistry more than following a moral compass that confused me because not everyone needed to walk in the same direction .
“When I saw you in church on Easter Sunday,” Isaac said, lifting my shirt over my head.
My heart ricocheted off the walls of my chest. This wasn’t really happening. My thoughts swam in a dream state, a twisty, dizzying whirlpool.
“I knew I was fucked. Going straight to Hell.” He dropped my shirt onto the floor. “But when you sang ‘Bette Davis Eyes,’ I knew I was going to wind up dead in a ditch either at the hands of your dad, mine, or my brother.”
“Why?” I whispered in a shaky voice.
He unbuttoned my jean shorts, and my lips parted, each breath audible and ragged.
“I’m showing you why,” he murmured, squatting to pull my shorts down my legs and remove my shoes with them.
When he stood, his gaze landed on my breast. It was red from a final scrub so Matt wouldn’t see his brother’s name on me. Isaac’s gaze shifted to mine and he shot me a knowing grin. But I had no response because I was too drunk on the high I felt standing before him in nothing but my white bra and matching bikini underwear.
I didn’t like sex, but I liked feeling sexy, and Isaac excelled at eliciting that from me. And I knew I needed to tell him we weren’t having sex, but I wasn’t ready to let go of that feeling.
“You are truly,” Isaac pulled my hair away from my shoulders as he positioned himself behind me, “the most breathtaking woman I have ever seen.” He kissed my shoulder and ghosted his fingertips down my arms until they were covered in goosebumps.
I closed my eyes and drew in a slow, shaky breath.
“Dare I say angelic?” He lifted my right arm, kissed my palm, and rested it at the side of his neck. Then he feathered his hand down the inside of my arm to my breast.
As I tried to inhale, it caught in my chest. I couldn’t breathe with his hands on me.
If it really was a dream, nothing but the sins of an unhinged imagination, then it couldn’t be that wrong. Right? What man or woman was always pure in thought?
Isaac showed patience with his hand covering my breast, gently squeezing it while the pad of his thumb brushed across my flesh where his name had been. My fingernails scraped along his neck as my quickening pulse thrummed in my ears.
I was coming undone in the most thrilling, frightening way while his hands found my hips. Crouching behind me, he dragged his lips down my back and over the cotton material covering my backside. He slid his hands to the front of my legs, fingers gently curling into my inner thighs like his teeth teased my butt.
I was …
Breathless.
Warm.
And my breasts felt fuller.
My muscles more tense.
And I felt wet.
I was aroused.
“Turn around,” Isaac whispered, letting his lips hover over the hollow dip on the right side of my lower back before kissing it.
I can’t do this.
Panic warred with desire. I couldn’t have sex with him. Sex would ruin the way he made me feel. The pleasure would shift, and I didn’t want to fake anything. I didn’t want to feel any more guilt than I already felt for cheating on Matt.
Disappointing God.
Jeopardizing my family’s living situation.
Isaac didn’t push me to turn around. Instead, he guided my hand between my legs—the thin, wet cotton at my fingertips.
Again, he kissed my back, and then he rubbed his stubble-covered face along my skin, eliciting another sensation. I was drowning in pleasure, and I could no longer feel the line where his body stopped giving me pleasure, and mine began.
My fingers dipped beneath the damp fabric, and the slightest graze along my hypersensitive flesh made me weak in the knees.
I had never felt so aroused.
“If I were him, I’d put my mouth where your fingers are,” Isaac whispered with his lips at my hipbone, teasing it with the tip of his tongue.
My legs squeezed together because his words made everything feel heightened. Blood whooshed until I could barely hear anything but my deafening pulse. I was a hair trigger, unimaginably aroused.
Then it happened. A million stars. I felt like every nerve in my body exploded at the same time.
“If I were him,” Isaac hugged my waist, holding me to him and keeping my knees from buckling. “I’d be inside of you. We would be doing this together.”
“Isaac …” I panted. Waves of pleasure hijacked my entire body as my posture sagged, and I melted into him, lost in complete euphoria.
Isaac sat on his heels, bringing me to his lap when my knees collapsed inward. I was a rag doll in his embrace .
He buried his face in my hair, holding me tightly to him. “If only I were him.”
Tears filled my eyes, but I didn’t release them.
Oh, the guilt.
Why did everything I desired in life have to be wrong, sinful, or disappointing to others?
I wasn’t sure. But I knew I didn’t want to move. Isaac could have kept me wrapped in his arms forever. He made me feel so many things.
Coveted.
Beautiful.
Limitless.
Safe.
And seen.
Isaac didn’t just see who I was; he saw everything I wanted to be.
“Let’s practice the F chord and maybe a barred C chord,” he murmured, his lips at my ear. “And then I’ll get you home before my parents return.” He released my waist.
I couldn’t look at him while I dressed, but I managed a quick glance and smile when he handed me the guitar.
We played for an hour, and then he drove me home. I didn’t say anything, and he seemed content listening to the radio with his window down and his arm resting on the door, fingers surfing in the breeze. When Laura Branigan’s “Leave Me Breathless” played, I gazed out my window and softly sang every word, wondering if the lyrics resonated with him as they did with me.
I didn’t have to ask him to stop before my driveway; he just knew.
My hand paused on the door handle as I stared at the gravel road illuminated by his headlights. I had to say something, but I didn’t know what.
“I’ll see you at church tomorrow,” he said.
My heart felt heavy. “Isaac,” I whispered.
“Nothing happened,” he said. “You can walk up the drive with your head up because nothing happened.”
I stared at the floor and nodded. As soon as I opened the door, I hopped out and headed up the road. The gravel crunched beneath his tires when he pulled forward to make a U-turn.
Something happened.
I turned and ran toward his truck, smacking my hand on his window. He glanced up at me and stopped. Adrenaline took over, and I opened his door, grabbing the steering wheel and his shirt to step up and kiss him.
Isaac hesitated at first, but in the next breath, he tangled his fingers into my hair and kissed me with an open mouth. The kiss didn’t end abruptly like a mistake; it ended slowly like neither one of us wanted it to end at all.
I bit my lower lip when we pulled apart just enough to look into his dark eyes. “It happened,” I whispered.
A gorgeous grin stole his lips. “It happened,” he echoed.
Isaac was right. I hopped down and headed toward my house with my chin held high because it happened.