11
Little Dennis Jackson giggled as Drew helped him climb onto the trailer.
Then he scrambled along the floorboards toward where his parents and sister had already claimed two hay bales near the front.
Other friends and neighbors of the Tanner family loitered in the yard of the farmhouse, waiting for the annual hayride to begin.
Drew put his hands in the pockets of his jacket and hunched his shoulders against the late October chill.
The daylight hours were still warm enough to work without a heavy coat, but all bets were off once the sun went down.
He looked longingly toward where his father and uncle were already arranging firewood in the field near the grain bins, but the bonfire wouldn’t be ready until later.
“Hey, what’s the plan for tonight? Are we going down Hayward Drive?” Jonah asked as he rounded the end of the trailer. “Mom thinks it may be too muddy.”
Drew shrugged. “I don’t think so.”
Jonah paused and looked at his cousin in surprise. “Aren’t you driving? You always drive.”
“Nope.”
“Oh. So, are you not coming?”
Drew looked out over the small crowd that had started to make its way toward the trailer.
“Well, I just thought I’d sit with—” The end of his sentence vanished when he finally found who he was looking for.
Savannah was talking to Ashlyn near the front porch of the house, a blanket draped over one arm and a gloved hand gesturing animatedly in front of her.
When she looked up and saw him watching, she smiled.
“Ah, I should have known,” Jonah said, apparently having followed Drew’s gaze. He bumped his cousin playfully with his shoulder. “Good for you.”
Drew hummed some sort of response, really not caring what Jonah had said, as Savannah said goodbye to Ashlyn and slipped through the crowd in his direction.
“Hey, you,” she said when she arrived. She leaned heavily against his chest, her folded arms holding the blanket between them. “Ready to go?”
Drew wanted to soak up her attention like a sponge, but instead, he became acutely aware of how many people were milling around. He couldn’t help it. Nobody was really watching them, but the potential that they could be prickled against his skin.
“You’re thinking too hard,” Savannah murmured, jostling him out of his own head.
“Come on. Let’s grab a seat.” She took his hand, and Drew allowed her to lead him toward the back of the trailer.
It was fine. He was fine. This wasn’t any different than Crawdaddy’s .
. . except most of the people here knew him and took an unhealthy small-town curiosity in everything he did.
He tightened his grip on her hand as if it were a lifeline, ignoring the interested looks of those nearby.
They clambered onto the trailer and scooted into an empty space along one side.
Savannah spread her blanket across both their laps. “In case it gets colder,” she said with a shrug, but a few moments later he felt her leg press against his beneath the fleece cover, and his muscles uncoiled slightly. Maybe she knew him better than he thought.
“Everybody holding on?” Drew’s Uncle Logan shouted as he climbed onto the running board of the truck. “Remember, arms and legs inside the trailer at all times, and bang on the back window if there’s a problem,” he announced, then he slid behind the wheel and shut his door.
Drew felt the truck rumble to life, and the trailer’s wheels began to move.
A cheer went up from the other riders, and Savannah grinned broadly, her face tipped toward the dark sky and the stars scattered across it.
“I’ve always loved this kind of thing,” she said excitedly. “It’s one of the best parts of fall.”
“I don’t think I’ve ridden back here since I was a kid,” Drew admitted, looking around as they turned onto the main road. One of his aunts was driving an SUV a short distance behind the trailer, her hazard lights flashing.
“Really? Why not?”
“Well, I usually drive,” he answered with a shrug. “It’s quieter up there. And warmer.”
Savannah scooted impossibly closer, and Drew felt her small hand slide across the top of his knee. “So why didn’t you tonight?”
“Well, I thought you’d have more fun back here,” he admitted.
“I wanted you to have a good time.” He glanced around quickly before slipping his hand beneath the blanket and wrapping his fingers around hers.
He knew, logically, that anyone looking their way would know they were holding hands, but somehow the barrier gave him confidence—like he could pretend they were alone after all.
The smile that stretched across her face made the cold and the crowd worth it. She squeezed his leg. “So, which of these fields are yours?” she asked.
For a second, Drew frowned, puzzled. Savannah had been all over this area with him in the last few months; she knew which fields the Tanners farmed.
But then, he realized—she was distracting him, giving him something more comfortable to think about than the people who crowded them on all sides and the eyes that may or may not have been watching.
He felt himself relax another degree as gratefulness washed through his veins.
“Well, we have thirty-four acres of beans through that gate over there,” he started, pointing across the trailer, “but that next pasture belongs to the Alcorns. They use it for sheep.” The truck and trailer bumped softly over the road, and Drew found himself leaning into Savannah as his uncle turned the rig onto a wooded lane.
She didn’t seem to mind, so he kept talking.
Words helped, actually. “The creek runs back there,” he added, nodding his head toward the trees behind them.
“The one we used to swim in?”
“Yeah, just farther upstream. It’s not as deep at this end.”
Savannah hummed a response, and Drew felt her hand flex beneath his.
He moved his thumb along the back of her knuckles, suddenly craving more connection, but the soft material of her glove wasn’t quite the sensation he was hoping for.
Emboldened by the dark and the distractions of the ride, he slowly tugged on each of her fingertips, one at a time, until he’d taken her glove off.
She didn’t say a word, but she didn’t stop him either.
When her hand was free, he resumed course—tracing each of her fingers one after the other, relishing the softness of her skin, so different from his.
When he’d finished with the back, he turned her hand over and drew spirals in her palm until she shuddered.
“You’re being sneaky,” she whispered near his ear.
Drew smirked despite himself, proud of the reaction he’d gotten. “Is that a problem?” he asked.
“No,” she murmured. “Not a problem at all.”
Before Drew knew it, the trailer bumped back into the driveway of his uncle’s house, and the ride was over.
His father let down the trailer’s gate, and riders began to climb off and make their way toward the now-roaring fire that promised both warmth and food.
But the anticipation Drew had previously felt for the bonfire had evaporated, leaving only the wish that he and Savannah could slip away unnoticed.
“Hey,” he said, tugging her back down just as she’d started to stand. “What if we go somewhere else?”
Savannah’s eyes sparkled wickedly in the faint light, as if she knew what he was thinking. “Why, Andrew, whyever would you want to do that?” she asked, her voice full of false innocence.
Yeah. She knew exactly what he was thinking.
She leaned in until she was sharing the air that he breathed.
“Go ahead. I dare you . . .” she taunted.
The snarky expression on her face almost made Drew want to take her up on her challenge just so he could make that look disappear.
They were a good distance from the fire, but he could still sense more than one person too close for comfort, and he couldn’t bring himself to be one of those people who made out in public.
Savannah’s smile tipped up at the edges.
“Suit yourself, then,” she said with a shrug.
“Guess you’ll just have to wait.” She got up and walked to the end of the trailer, putting an obvious extra swing in her step as she went.
“Come on, Romeo! You have to feed me or I’ll get cranky,” she called over her shoulder.
Then she laughed as she hopped to the ground.
Drew felt his neck grow hot as he pushed to his feet and followed, but he couldn’t help the smile that inched across his face in the dark. He’d never liked being made fun of . . . until Savannah did it. Somehow, that was different.
He tossed her blanket onto one of two empty camp chairs a few yards from the flames and then caught up with her beside a line of folding tables. “We’ll need to let Ryker out at some point,” he reminded her, still looking for a reason to leave early. “He’s been inside since I left this afternoon.”
Savannah shook her head, her attention focused on threading a hot dog onto the prongs of a long metal roasting stick.
“Nope. Ashlyn and I let him out before we came here. I tried to bring him along, but he seemed content to be a couch potato.” She gave Drew a knowing side-eye. “Iron Chef America was on.”
Drew held in a chuckle. What could he say? Ryker was living his best life, and Drew’s was noticeably better with him in it. He was a dog person now; it was what it was. “What makes you think you can just go in my house whenever you want?” he asked as he followed her to their seats.
Savannah dropped into a chair and looked up at him. “Can I not?”
He opened his mouth to respond, but he wasn’t sure how to explain the odd feeling that spread through his body when he thought of her in his house alone.
So, instead, he leaned forward, holding his hot dogs over the hottest part of the fire.
“You can do whatever you want,” he conceded. “Rob me blind, I don’t care.”
Savannah chuckled happily from his side. “Be careful what you say, plowboy. I’m taking the guitar and the dog first.”