Chapter 11
Chapter Eleven
Derek
“I have a blanket. Do you want to sit on it and hang out here for a bit?” I ask.
Kissing her this time was just as good as the first time, but it’s got a lot of emotions and other things rising to the surface. I don’t want any space between us, but I need there to be.
“I’d love that.” She grins.
And I’m doing the exact opposite of making space between us.
I spread the blanket out under the stars, making sure there weren’t any stray rocks poking through that might dig into her. It’s quiet except for the rustling of the breeze through the trees and the far-off call of a coyote. I pull the flask out of my jacket pocket, a little heavier in my hand than I’d expected. Whiskey feels right for a night like this. Maybe it’ll calm the noise in my head.
She’s beautiful. She’s funny. She’s sweet. She’s kind. The way she looks at me, the sweet, playful way she is with me. She’s everything I could ever want, but I’m not at all ready for what she deserves.
I should put us right back on the horses and call it a night, but I can’t. I don’t want to, anyway.
It’s a full moon, giving us a little more light out here to see where we’re at. I look over my shoulder, watching her step closer with that tentative smile as if she’s still deciding whether this is a good idea. She’s hugged up in her sweater, looking beautiful even in the low light. Her eyes are wide as she takes in the view, the stars twinkling across the expanse like tiny sparks of fire. I pat the blanket next to me.
“Come on, it’s nice down here. Perfect view of the stars.”
She laughs softly and lowers beside me, crossing her legs beneath her. “It really is beautiful out here. Peaceful. Makes it seem like we’re the only ones around for miles.”
“Just us and the coyotes, maybe a bobcat or two.” I hold out the flask to her. “Little warmer? It’s got a kick, so be warned.”
She accepts it with a grin. “I’ll take my chances.” She tips it back, face scrunching just a little as she hands it back. “You’re right. Definitely a kick.”
“Helps on chilly nights like this,” I say, taking a swig myself. The warmth spreads through me, a good contrast to the cool night air. “Your brother is a developer, and your parents used to own a construction business. What got you into teaching?”
She tilts her head back to look at the night sky, a faint smile pulling at her lips. “Hmm, well, Mrs. D was extremely instrumental in it. I feel like she was the first teacher that ever…got me, but she also was able to teach every kid, not just the normal ones, if that makes sense. She encouraged us to all teach each other, too, and …that made me realize I love it. And I guess I just always liked the idea of helping people find their way. You know, kids especially. Sometimes one person believing in them makes all the difference. I wanted to be that person. Plus, I was one of those weird kids who actually loved school,” she adds with a chuckle.
“Bet you were the teacher’s favorite,” I tease, nudging her shoulder.
“Oh, absolutely. Had the gold stars and everything.” She laughs. “But what about you? Why farming?”
I shrug, running a hand over the back of my neck. “Well, I guess it’s in my blood. I grew up around it and always kind of knew that I’d end up with dirt under my nails and a stack of work taller than me every morning. My grandparents owned a farm, and I spent a lot of summers there. They lost everything in a flood and had to sell. Don’t get me wrong. There’ve been plenty of times I’ve thought about packing up and quitting to do something easier. But there’s something…I don’t know, real about it. Like I’m connected to the land in a way. I’d miss it too much if I left.”
She nods, watching me with a softness in her eyes that makes my heart thump a little harder. “I get that. I can see how you’d feel that way. You’re not the kind of guy to go halfway on anything. And you’re doing it all organically.”
“You’d be right about that.” I glance away, feeling a little more exposed than I meant to let on. “The world is always pushing a life of pesticides and processed foods, and it’s…it’s hurt society in so many ways, but no one really wants to talk about that. I can’t even explain why, but something gave me the itch to dig into doing things a better way. I’ve got that now, and I’m proud to have switched the farm over completely.”
“That’s a big deal. I can’t imagine the Livesays were okay with that.”
“You know them, huh?”
“Yeah,” I answer with a small snort.
“You’d be correct. They weren’t thrilled. David was furious and said it wouldn’t work and that I was going to lose all of their income. Instead, I’ve tripled it.”
“That’s incredible. All with the organic stuff?”
“That and adding the activities and family-fun atmosphere. The animals helped a lot, too. Now kids can come out here and learn about nature and changing the world, making better food choices and stuff. So many people claim that buying organic and shopping healthy is so expensive because that’s what society wants you to believe, but paying for meds or procedures, doctor bills, all of that adds up to be way more expensive than your grocery bill ever could be.”
“I love how passionate you are about this.”
I look down sheepishly.
Sharon used to tell me to stop spewing Derek facts because she didn’t care about any of it. This is different and nice.
I smile before chastising myself for comparing the two of them. It’s not fair to Amber, especially. It’s nice to feel seen, though, and I feel like Amber does see me.
The thought ricochets through me, and I feel that uncomfortable emotion of fear in my stomach. In the beginning, Sharon saw me, too. Guilt envelops me next as I realize I’m comparing someone new to my late wife. There shouldn’t be a comparison, right?
I need to change the subject.
“But enough about that. How’d you get so good with kids?”
“I think it’s just listening,” she says, looking thoughtful. “Most people think kids are only half there because they’re small and loud, but they have these huge feelings, these whole little lives we don’t always notice. You listen to them, and they’ll tell you everything they need you to know.”
I take another sip from the flask, smiling as I watch her talk, gesturing with her hands, her cheeks flushed from the cold or maybe the whiskey. It’s hard not to notice the way her lips curve, the way her eyes flash when she gets a little more passionate about what she’s saying. She catches me staring and raises an eyebrow.
“What?” she asks, a playful glint in her eye.
“Nothing. Just…” I let out a low chuckle. “You’re something, you know that?”
She laughs, biting her bottom lip like she’s trying to hide it, but her eyes are bright. “Right back at you, farm boy.”
We talk about everything for a while, from the best kind of apples for pie to the strangest things we’ve both encountered in our jobs. Laughter fills the quiet night, rolling around us as the stars glow above. There’s an ease between us that I haven’t felt in…well, maybe ever.
Finally, the quiet settles around us, and we just sit there, side by side, looking up at the sky. Then I glance at her again, and something inside me just clicks.
I need to taste her again.
I lean toward her slowly, giving her time to pull away if she wants, but she doesn’t. Her eyes meet mine, and she tilts her face up to me, her lips parting just slightly, almost in anticipation.
And that’s all the invitation I need. I close the distance between us, pressing my lips to hers. Her soft and warm lips move against mine with a mix of surprise and hunger that drives me crazy. My hand finds her cheek, pulling her closer as the kiss deepens. Heat builds between us, and the night around us is nothing but a backdrop to this moment.
I let myself forget everything. The ache in my chest, the hollow space where my heart used to beat for someone else—it all vanishes. It feels…freeing.
She leans into me, her hands sliding up my arms, her fingers curling around the fabric of my jacket. I slide my hand around her back, pressing her closer, our breaths mingling as we break the kiss just enough to catch our breath before diving back in. She tastes like the faint burn of whiskey and something sweeter, something that makes me want more, makes me forget everything but the feel of her and the softness of her skin beneath my fingers.
I can hear two dogs barking and howling in the distance.
That sounds like Ziggy and Marley…I’m sure it’s nothing. Probably just deer in the orchard.
Her hand moves up to my neck, and I slip my fingers under the edge of her sweater, feeling the warmth of her skin against mine. She lets out a soft gasp, and it’s all I can do to keep myself from pressing her back against the blanket right then and there.
This is different than the winery and even just a bit ago. It’s slow, sensual, and feels right. I can’t get enough of her.
My phone buzzes, vibrating in my pocket. I groan, pressing my forehead to hers as I mutter, “Of all the times…”
She laughs softly, breathless. “Better answer it. Might be important.”
I sigh, reluctantly pulling back and reaching into my pocket to fish out my phone. Jake, one of my ranch hands, is calling. The only reason he would be calling at this hour is for an emergency. Irritation fills me.
What now? Is this some sign that I shouldn’t be doing this with Amber?
“Hang on,” I say, holding up a finger as I answer. “Yeah? What’s going on?”
“Derek, you’d better get down here. There’s a fire on the south side. It’s spreading fast.”
My stomach drops, adrenaline kicking in. “How bad?”
“Fire department is on their way. We’re trying to contain it, but we need more hands, fast.”
My heart rate speeds up, and my stomach drops before I feel a weight on my chest.
A fire? Did I hear him right?
I’m gripping the phone tightly as all of the worst-case scenarios run through my head.
“I’m on my way,” I say, ending the call and shoving the phone back in my pocket. I turn to her, my expression serious. “I’m sorry. I have to go. There’s a fire on the property.”
She’s already standing, concern flashing in her eyes. “Do you need help? Can I—”
“How fast can you ride?”
“I used to barrel race in summer camp,” she tells me as she snatches up the blanket.
The two of us hop back onto the horses and race toward the house.
First, the horses are let out, and now there’s a fire? Something isn’t right.