“There’s a little bit of life in River’s eyes lately,” he says. “And it hasn’t been there in years.”
“You’re giving me too much credit.”
“Believe me. It’s you. It’s all you. Even if he doesn’t know it yet.”
Chapter Thirty-Three
River
“I didn’t realize it was going to be so cold tonight.” Leighton messes with the heat in my truck as I tune the radio so we can hear the previews. We’re watching from the cab tonight, opting not to brave the sudden cold front drifting through eastern South Dakota.
A wool blanket from the back of the truck covers her lap and she rests her head against the window, watching intently as the opening credits scroll across the screen.
“Grant never would’ve seen this movie with me,” she says. “Never in a million years. I’d have had to bribe him with sexual favors.”
I say nothing.
“I don’t know why I told you that.” She fusses with her hair, gathering it in her hand and draping it over one shoulder. “I’m the queen of TMI sometimes. I forget not everyone wants to know all the dirty details.”
“He sounds like a prick.”
“Yeah. And then some.” She sits up straight, waving her hand at me. “Okay, it’s starting.”
When the film opens, Ryan Gosling is strolling down the streets of New York on Valentine’s day, looking forlorn as he notices all the happy couples around him.
I’m bored, but I force myself to pay attention.
A pretty girl in a floral dress trips on a crack in the sidewalk, stumbling into him. Their eyes meet and suddenly the scene is painted a little brighter.
Yawning a half hour later, I glance over at Leighton, expecting to see her eating this up, only her eyes are closed.
“Leighton?” I whisper.
She doesn’t stir.
“You sleeping?” I ask.
Leighton doesn’t move, doesn’t blink, doesn’t come to, and I spot the blanket that was once covering her lap now lying on the floor. Her head nods, pressing against her window and holding her neck at a painful angle. There’s no real way to get comfortable in this truck without waking up with a horrible kink in your neck or a pinched nerve. Believe me, I speak from experience.
Watching her sleep, I debate whether or not to intervene before finally reaching for her and pulling her across the bench seat. Placing her head on my shoulder and covering her lap with her blanket, I slip my arm around her to keep her comfortable and then I watch her damn movie.
Leighton breathes softly, not rustling once. She must have needed the sleep.
I turn my attention back toward the giant screen, watching as the girl in the movie tries to pretend she isn’t attracted to Ryan and Ryan tries to pretend he isn’t falling head over heels into love-at-first-sight.
This isn’t a movie I’d watch by choice in a million years, but if it means letting Leighton get a little shut eye, I guess I can sit through it a bit longer.
Besides, it’s been a long time since I’ve had my arm around anyone.
I’d almost forgotten how good it feels to hold someone again.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Leighton
“I’m so sorry.” I apologize to River for the millionth time tonight as we stand at the top of the stairs at the farmhouse. I woke up in a pile of my own drool, my cheek pressed against his shoulder, just as the end credits were filling the screen. “You should’ve woken me up.”
“It’s fine.”
He even summarized the entire plot for me—at my request.
“It won’t happen again,” I say. “I must’ve been too relaxed or something. Full belly, warm truck, good company …”
He peers at me, almost like he’s examining his thoughts, and his eyes land on my mouth for a sliver of time long enough to be noticeable.
His broad shoulders fill his plaid shirt, and his wide, comfortable stance tells me he’s in no hurry to go anywhere. If he weren’t standing a few feet away right now, our proximity would make the temptation of kissing him that much harder to resist.
“You can pick the next thing we do,” I say. “And I promise I won’t fall asleep.”
He pulls in a long breath, giving my proposal some thought. “You like to fish?”
“I haven’t fished in years.”
“Let’s go fishing tomorrow night, after dinner,” he says.
“All right.” I smile, stepping back to the opposite end of the hall toward my room. “Sounds like fun.”
As soon as I reach my door, I twist the knob before glancing back at him. He’s studying me with a curious glint in his eyes, and I’d give a million pennies for his thoughts, but I know they’re none of my business and he wouldn’t hesitate to make that fact as clear as day.
“I had a good time with you tonight,” I say, feeling the need to let it be known. The man may not smile and may not say more than a handful of words at any given time, but his stillness is grounding, his quiet companionship therapeutic.
And I’m glad to know him.
Chapter Thirty-Five
River
“We’re friends now, aren’t we?” Leighton asks, sitting cross-legged on a wool blanket at the end of a dock.
The sky’s full of stars tonight, and the sound of bull frogs and crickets drown out the faint country music playing from my truck several yards back. There’s so much to look at here, so much to take in.
But all I see is her.
“I suppose,” I say, baiting her line.
“You suppose?” she punches my arm. “We’re friends. You can’t deny it. We’re always together.”
“Proximity doesn’t make a friendship.”
“We share meals.”
“For convenience,” I say.
“We do everything together,” she says. “And I tell you everything.”
“I guess if that’s your definition of friendship …”
I hand her a rod and watch her cast off before placing it in a rod holder affixed to the dock. Returning to the blanket, she lies on her back, slipping her hands under her head and counting the stars. I don’t think she has any interest in fishing … I think she simply wanted to spend time with me.
Cracking a beer from the cooler, I take a drink and keep an eye on her rod, listening for the bells to signal we’ve got a bite.
“Lie down with me,” she says.
“Got to keep an eye on this.”
“River.” Her voice is harder this time, more insistent. “Please? The sky is so pretty right now. You need to stop and take it all in.”
“And if I don’t?”
“Then you’ll miss out.”
“On what? I can see this any night of the week.”
“You’ll miss out on this moment,” she says. “With me—your friend. As soon as it’s gone, it’s gone. And someday you might look back on this and wish you’d have taken the time to lie down next to me.”
I exhale.
Leighton sits up, leaning on her elbows. “It’s not going to kill you.”