13 #2
Drew followed suit, falling into an unexpectedly easy rhythm. He hadn’t done this since prom, and even then, it hadn’t been the same. He pulled her hand to his lips and kissed the backs of her fingers before tucking them all against his sweater, right over where his heart was beating far too fast.
“See? You do know how to do this,” she said softly, looking up at him.
Drew felt his mouth curve into a smile, but no words came out.
Only with you, he thought to himself. Only with you.
Savannah looked around the old barn loft, her eyes landing on a collection of broken kitchen chairs and what looked like part of a sewing table.
There were also two saddles and a ladder, several window frames and a stack of lumber, all collecting dust. Drew was sitting on a square straw bale near the open hayloft window, his rifle in his lap and his attention on the field that stretched below them almost as far as the eye could see.
Savannah knew he was watching the tree lines for signs of movement. They’d yet to see any deer on this trip, but she’d watched a bobcat and three raccoons make their way through the cut corn stalks earlier.
Her phone screen lit up in her hand—the ringtone and vibration turned off.
Brooklyn: Tell me again why you’re in the hayloft?
Savannah smiled and typed a response.
Savannah: Because Drew is hunting.
Brooklyn: Yeah, DREW is hunting. And what are you doing?
Savannah: Watching him hunt.
Brooklyn: How fascinating.
Savannah shook her head fondly; she could hear the sarcasm in her friend’s voice as clearly as if the other girl were sitting beside her. Then another text came in.
Brooklyn: I would ask what makes him more fun than me, but honestly, I don’t want to know.
Savannah bit her lip and looked back at where Drew was still scanning the ground. He had the same confidence here that he did in the combine—the air of a man who was completely within his element. It was an underrated kind of sexy, and she loved being around to witness it.
But that wasn’t an explanation she could give his sister, no matter how close they’d gotten.
She could have been at Drew’s aunt’s house baking Thanksgiving desserts with the other girls, talking and laughing and sampling the chocolate—but instead, she’d opted to shrug on a thick winter coat and climb a rickety ladder into a dusty hayloft just to sit in silence and watch him watch for deer.
That was about more than physical attraction, so what exactly was it?
She typed out a more sister-appropriate response, though it was equally as honest.
Savannah: He’s always doing things that I like to do, even when he hates it, so I’m returning the favor.
She thought about their date last weekend and felt her cheeks warm with the memory.
Savannah: A few nights ago, he danced with me.
The response dots came and went, and the text that popped up almost made her laugh out loud, despite her determination to stay quiet.
Brooklyn: Barf
“What’s so funny?”
Savannah jumped, almost dropping her phone when she heard Drew’s question out loud. They hadn’t spoken in nearly an hour.
He chuckled, half turned back toward her. “Sorry. You’re in your own little world over there.”
Savannah caught her breath again and sat up straighter. “I thought we were being quiet!” she replied.
He shrugged. “It’s getting dark, and I haven’t seen anything. I’m calling it for today.”
“Nothing at all?” Savannah asked, standing up and moving closer to where he sat by the window.
“Nope.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be,” he said, setting the safety on his rifle and leaning it against the wall in front of him. Then he reached one arm out to her. “I enjoyed it.”
Savannah settled onto the hay bale beside him and tucked her face against the side of his neck.
“So, what was so funny?” he asked again, and Savannah could feel his voice vibrate against her forehead.
“Brooklyn,” she answered. “She thinks we’re gross.”
Drew laughed then, the rumble of it filling the loft space and echoing back from the wooden walls. “Good to know. Maybe next time I want her to leave, I’ll just kiss you.”
Savannah grinned against his shoulder. “Well, not tomorrow, okay? I want the rest of your family to like me.” The clinic was closed for Thanksgiving Day, but she had opted to stay and work kennels in return for taking Christmas off to see her family.
She felt him move his head from side to side. “Don’t worry; they’ll love you more than they love me,” he deadpanned. Then his hand slid up the side of her arm and squeezed her bicep. “Look!” he whispered. He slowly raised his free hand and pointed out the window.
Savannah lifted her head from his shoulder and let her gaze follow his finger.
Three deer had stepped into the open field directly across from the barn.
The largest one raised her head and looked around cautiously, her ears twitching, but the two younger ones bounded through the growing twilight.
They weren’t fawns—those were born in the spring—but they looked like yearlings experiencing their first autumn among the leaves.
Savannah’s gaze darted toward the rifle where it leaned against the wall, but Drew didn’t reach for it.
“Nah,” he said softly, apparently reading her mind. “Let them be.” Then he turned his head and pressed a kiss against her temple, and Savannah felt herself sink a little farther into the abyss that had been threatening to swallow her whole since she was fourteen.
And now there was no turning back.