“Whatever you say, Zachary. You always know best when it comes to her.”
“What’s your problem?”
He huffs. “I’m sitting here watching you two sneak around. How the hell is that okay with you? If she’s not ready to even talk about you both, how are you even anything?”
“I’m not sneaking around. We’re not kids anymore. She’s got kids she needs to protect. There’s a lot more to this than what you think you know.”
Wyatt needs to take his opinions somewhere else. I don’t know when he became the expert on relationships. He’s never had a serious girlfriend.
Wyatt crosses his arms. “I’d bet my ass that there’s more you don’t see. But hey, I’m just a country boy, right?”
Wyatt walks back in the house, and I let it go. Sometimes he grumbles regarding Presley. They have a very unique friendship, and I respect it. At the same time, I fucking hate it. I hate that he gets her on such a deep level.
I hop in the truck and head to our meeting spot. Only this time, our night is going to go down much differently.
Me: Head out early.
Presley: I just got the boys to bed.
Me: Perfect.
Presley: I didn’t say yes.
Me: You didn’t say no. I’ve got a surprise.
I hope that gets her attention. She’s a stubborn Southern woman who likes to press my buttons. If I don’t keep her on her toes, she’s likely to keep going in circles.
Presley: Oh? What kind?
Got her.
Me: The kind that you need to come see. Your parents know. Just come to our spot.
I spoke with her mama this morning when I got the idea. She smiled, patted my leg, and told me I’m back on her good side. That’s one Townsend down. Her daddy is going to be a whole different ball game.
Presley: What are you up to, Zachary Hennington?
I love when she calls me by my full name. She only does it when she’s mad or feeling feisty.
Me: Darlin’, get your fine ass down to our spot. We got us a hot date.
And hopefully one that puts a big smile on that gorgeous face. I’m going to show her how special she is and how she’s always been my choice.
Presley
I WALK DOWN THE STAIRS after getting the kids to bed and Daddy is sitting in his chair. “Goin’ somewhere, sugar?” he asks not looking away from the television.
“Hi, Daddy,” I say as if I’m fifteen again.
He gives a short laugh. “Right. Don’t think I don’t know you’re out every night with that boy.”
“I’m pretty sure he’s not a boy anymore, and I’m well past the age of curfews.” I kiss his cheek and he humphs again.
“We’ll see you in the morning.”
I smile and squeeze his shoulder. “Love you, Daddy.”
He looks over. “I love you, Presley.”
There are days I kick myself over pushing my family so far away. Today is one of them. My father and mother have been the solid ground throughout these months. They’ve not asked for anything from me but have given everything of themselves.
I head out the back door and snuggle into the blanket I keep out on the deck. It’s chilly out, and I’m barely wearing much. When I got his text, I felt like I needed to put a little effort in. I’m wearing a short, white, eyelet dress with a brown belt and a light jean jacket, I curled my hair this morning so it cascades in soft flowing waves. I threw on my cowboy boots, since trudging through the field to get to the creek isn’t usually a good idea in any other shoes.
Not that I usually go looking like crap, but at the same time, I never dress up.
I get to our meeting spot and find Zach leaning against his truck. “Hello, beautiful.” He walks forward, tugging me into his arms.
“Hi yourself.” My smile is instant. I try to look over his shoulder, but he turns me so I can’t see.
“You’re trying to kill me, aren’t you?”
“Me?” I ask with confusion.
“That dress.”
I grin. “I might have had a plan to torture you.”
“Well.” His lips press to mine. “I think.” Another kiss. “You’re doing.” And another. “A good job.” This time when our lips touch, I hold him there. Zach’s hands find their way to my hair, and he fists it loosely. I love the way he kisses me. Such power and strength, but never brutal. It’s a heady feeling when someone makes you feel safe and strong at the same time.
Our tongues dance as I get lost in Zachary’s touch. I can’t seem to stop myself. Being around him makes me crazy. It’s as if the time we spent apart only amplified things. When he touches me, it takes everything I have not to throw him down and feel every inch of him.
Zach’s grip loosens, and he touches the side of my face. “I have a plan.”
“I remember.” I smirk.
He takes my hand and pulls me to the truck. This isn’t his old one, this is brand new. “This yours?”
“I have two. Our truck, and this one.”