18. Eighteen
Eighteen
Wes
“I’ll be out this afternoon.” I lift the heavy metal on my side as Walton gets the other. Normally, I’d build this round pen myself, but Walton always insists on helping. I don’t mind.
“Where you off to?” he asks, backing up slowly before we swing the thing into place. I use the pegs to latch it to the fence next to it.
“I’m taking Cass out to the lake.”
Walton dusts his hands off on the faded blue jeans he’s worn since my infancy, I’m sure of it. “Wow,” he says, his tone mocking. “If I kiss you the way that girl did, will I get a trip to the lake too?”
His toothy grin makes me laugh. “No, Walton.”
“Good,” he mutters. “Don’t want to kiss you all that much, Kid.
” Walton pats my back, his hand siding on a bit too firm.
“I like that girl. She’s a good fit for you.
I can’t say the same for the other choices you made, but sometimes it takes us a while to get things right.
” Right. He squeezes my shoulder, and I fight the urge to wince.
For an old man, he still has an iron grip—even when he’s taking the form of a caring father.
It’s something Walton has done since my parents' divorce. He’s cared for the farm for longer than I can remember, and I suppose Roe and I were simply a part of the farm that needed care.
Walton has always stepped up.
“Your sister’s been taking bets on how long it would take to catch you two fondling each other.”
I frown—vigorously. “She has not.”
He waves me off. “Stop acting like that. It was all in good fun. Besides, was she wrong?”
“Walton, I don’t appreciate—”
“Save it,” he interrupts. “You don’t need to act like a good boss to me. You already are, Wesley Miller, and falling for a girl isn’t going to change that. Whether she works for you or not. I’ve hardly seen you date save for that last one, and I’d say it’s about time.”
I shift uncomfortably, sweat beading on the back of my neck as the sun beats down from overhead. June is beginning to shift into July, and I’m not ready for the overwhelmingly hot days ahead. “Thanks,” I mutter begrudgingly.
“In fact,” he says. “Why don’t you get out of here now?”
“Oh no, I can’t—”
His mouth flattens into a thin line. “I got a hold of things here,” he says.
“Besides, the extra help has got us ahead of schedule. I don’t think there’s a downed fence post on this entire farm, which is surprising considering how Macy is.
That horse can really destroy a barn. Go and have fun, and take that girl to the lake. ”
I glance at my phone, checking the time. I have a couple of hours before I’m set to pick Cass up at the end of the drive.
It’s enough time to rinse off, stress about having the same swim trunks I’ve had for the past ten years, and pace the living room until I want to throw up.
Perfect.
I leave the farm in Walton’s care to do just that.
By the time two pm hits, I’m in my truck, rumbling down the gravel drive until I get to the end.
Cassidy stands in a loose, blue sundress. The end flirts with the tops of her toned thighs, rippling in the wind that blows through the trees.
I can see the green string at the base of her neck, making me question what kind of swimsuit she has beneath.
“Hey,” she says, hauling a bag over her shoulder. Her hair sticks out wildly from the bun at the back of her head, pieces framing her sun-kissed face.
I hop out of the truck, and she glances down at the boots, her gaze rising higher to take in the jeans and my gray t-shirt. Her nose scrunches.
“I thought we were swimming at the lake?” she questions.
“We are,” I say, stepping closer. My hand wraps around her waist, pulling her closer as I press a kiss to her temple before pulling away. “I’ll change when I get there. Felt weird in the swim trunks.”
She laughs nervously. “Well, now I feel weird in this bikini and cover-up.”
I scan her, noting the soft curve mixed with strong muscle. My blood heats at the sight of her. I promised myself I would do this right—no more dry humping on tractors, and certainly no more instances of me coming without knowing she’s been taken care of.
I promised myself I would take this woman out on a proper date, but I’ll be damned if I make it to the lake before caving.
“Don’t,” I say, noting the pink flush across her cheeks.
“Alright.”
I round the truck, opening her door until she’s safely nestled in the freshly cleaned cab.
In the driver’s seat, I shift out of park and start down the road. We pass rolling hay fields broken by tall trees and old farmhouses.
Without my hat, I feel bare, running a hand over my hair, hoping it doesn’t look like I tried too hard to style it. Not that it’ll matter if we get into the water.
“So, where is this lake?” she asks.
I place my hand on the back of her seat, opting to drive with one. When my fingers touch the green strings of her bikini, I play with them on instinct, relishing in the soft smile she gives me.
“It’s only a couple of miles from here. Right before you get into town. There’s a whole section for swimming.” My fingers roll the end of one of the strings. “We used to go when we were kids, and I haven’t been in a long while, but I thought it might be fun.”
Cass fills the silence the whole way to the lake, and I bask in the warmth her words bring.
She tells me about the blanket she started crocheting for her brother, her plans to go dress shopping with Ellis next month, and tries to convince me to use hiring a new employee as a guise to find Grady a girlfriend.
“I think it would be good for the kid,” she’d said.
“Help him not to flirt with you,” I’d retorted, resulting in a gentle swat across the chest.
When I exit the bathrooms at the lake, the sun sparkles across the water. Teenagers run across the dock, diving off the edge until they disappear beneath the murky water.
I scan the beach, watching two kids as they pile sand higher and higher.
“It’s a volcano!” the boy shouts just before the little girl, no more than two, stumbles right over the top. “Eruption!” he yells through fits of giggles, and I grin.
When I finally spot Cass, her back is turned away from me, allowing me a full view of the green bikini she told me about.
She bends over, and I fight the way my blood wants to rush to my cock as she sprays sunscreen up her toned legs. The sheen only serves to make them look more enticing—like I want to feel them wrapped around my waist as I carry her off to the farmhouse.
When I finally reach her, she turns around. Her eyes rake down my chest, lower, until her gaze lands on my legs. She lifts her hand to her mouth, fighting back giggles.
I roll my tongue along my cheek, knowing exactly where this is going. “What?” I say, looking to the swings on the grass just beyond the beach.
“I’m so sorry,” she says, stepping closer and taking my hand. “Your legs are so… white.”
I step even closer, allowing our breaths to mingle. Her smile falls, but not fully. “I work on a farm year-round, Miss Summers. What did you expect?”
“I guess I didn’t think about it.”
I grin. “Mhm. Wait another month, and you’ll look just like me.”
Her lashes flirt with her cheeks when she blinks up at me. “You think?” she says before taking one finger and dragging it torturously slow down my abdomen. My stomach flexes at the touch. “Just like this?”
I give in, my gaze falling to the swell of her breasts, the curve of her hips punctuated by two flimsy knots on either side.
A fucking string bikini.
“I sure hope not.”
Cass plants a kiss on my cheek before sprinting out into the water, laughing all the way to the edge.
When I reach her, my arms circle her waist, lifting her and spinning as the water splashes around us.
On this beach, it’s just us—it’s just her. It’s always her.
“I could have been a professional diver in another life.”
Cass stands on top of the dock as I tread water. “You think?” I say, cocking a brow. Her skin glistens beneath the sinking sun.
The afternoon crept to evening, washing the lake in a golden glow.
“Absolutely not,” she says before sprinting full force.
The cannonball she does splashes water over my face. I push my hair back, watching as she surfaces, her smile highlighted by the water lapping near her chin like it wants to kiss her as badly as I do.
She lifts her chin. “What?”
We spent the afternoon eating soft pretzels from the snack bar, swimming the length of the lake, and sunning ourselves during the scheduled swim breaks while we talked about everything under the sun.
“I want to kiss you,” I admit, inching closer.
Cass swims backward toward the now-empty dock. Tucked behind it, we are cut off from the rest of the beach.
I follow her in the water until the dock is at her back. I grip the edge, caging her in as one arm wraps around her waist, hauling her to me.
“Then do it,” she challenges, and I give in.
The press of her lips against mine opens the floodgates to everything I’ve been suppressing all day. Her sharp intake of breath, the feel of her smooth skin beneath the water. I’m a man starved.
My knuckles turn white where I grip the dock, turning my head to get a better angle.
When her lips part, I run my tongue along the seam, groaning as our tongues tangle, and I pull her closer.
That damn string bikini would be so easy to remove. One simple tug, and it would be gone—lost beneath the water where nobody can see.
Cass’s hand reaches behind her to hold on to the floating dock. She tips her chin back, basking in the sun as I trail hot kisses down her neck. She’s panting and desperate, those toned legs wrapping around me and pulling me closer.
The pressure against my cock has me unwinding my arm from her waist, placing my hand on the side of her throat.
“Damnnit, Cassidy,” I whisper, trailing kisses up her jaw. Her breasts press against me, and I groan. I can’t do what needs to be done floating behind this dock.
“We should leave,” I practically growl. “Rosemary should be at my Mom’s house.” I place another kiss on the side of her mouth. “She’ll be gone all night.”
Cass catches my lips with hers, a soft whimper escaping. “Yeah,” she says, her voice breathless. “Let’s get out of here.”