American Honey

I tilt my head and smile, confirming that yes I do like it, but some things are better left a secret. Making sure the hay bale is secure, I walk over to her. I’m trying to strut, to be sexy, but I’m not sure if I’m succeeding. I’ve never put much effort into impressing a girl before, but with Savannah it’s different. She’s used to high-class rich guys and I’m just a country boy with not a lot to offer. I’ll never drive some sporty car that costs more than my house or belong to some ritzy country club. There’ll be no vacationing in the Hamptons for me. I’m okay with this lifestyle. I’m also not stupid enough to think that Savannah’s willing to give all that up to make a home with me.

As the brief glimpse of a possible life with Savannah flashes through my mind, I pause mid-step and quickly divert my eyes to the now fascinating concrete floor that she hosed down not twenty minutes ago. I don’t know where the thought of her making a home with me came from and as much as I can see a future with her, I know that’s not what she sees. I’m not a stupid man, a hopeless romantic maybe, but definitely not stupid. She’s too young and she has dreams of her own. I know she’s leaving and nothing I do or say will stop her. I won’t even try. She needs to live out her dreams. But Paris, France is light years away from Rivers Crossing, Texas and I know she’ll forget all about us back here. It’s what I expect.

“Ty-ler,” her voice sings out, reminding me that we’re still in the present day and not months away from now. She’s standing there in her stall leaning up against her pitchfork, watching me. I know I can play this two ways: I can go over and kiss her good and proper or I can pull her pigtails like I used to back when we were running amuck and walk out. Neither will protect my heart and the reality of the situation is that she already owns it. If anyone would’ve told me that when Savannah McGuire walked out of my life five years ago, only to return and have me talking about sharing a home, I would’ve punched them in the face.

I never thought my momma was in her right mind when she told me that Savannah and I were going to get hitched someday. I used to yell at her for teasing me. If she could see me now, standing here like a fumbling fool, she’d kick my rear end all the way to town.

“Cowboy?” her voice is full of desire as she purrs my new nickname. That’s my undoing. I move as if a donkey has kicked me in the ass until I’m standing in front of her. Taking the pitchfork from her, I set it against outside the stall and shut the gate. The only parts of us that are visible are our heads and shoulders.

“What d’ya say, wanna roll in the hay?” I know my joke is corny, but I’m going for results.

Savannah pulls her lower lip into her mouth, a sure sign that she’s thinking too hard and looks out the barn door. Her smile is mischievous and daring. I pick her up and she laughs, wrapping her legs around my waist. Lowering us onto the fresh hay, I set myself on her gently. I lean in for a kiss and let my lips linger on hers until I feel her hands press against my back. This situation has bad news written all over it, but I’m not thinking with my head right now.

I pull away and smile down on her. “What are ya doin’ tonight?”

She shakes her head. “I’m pretty much a homebody right now.”

I mentally kick my own ass for asking such a stupid question. Of course she’s not going anywhere. Bobby and Sue hardly go out and I know I’m her transportation.

“Jeremiah’s havin’ a bonfire at his place. Wanna go?”

“That sounds like fun. Will there be a lot of people?”

I nod. “He doesn’t do small. I usually crash at his house because he gets a keg, but I don’t have to. We can throw a few blankets in the truck and watch the stars l

ater if you want.”

Savannah runs her hands up my t-shirt and I try not to cringe with embarrassment. It’s soiled and I’m sweating. The last thing I want is for her to get grossed out by me. I start to lift off of her, only to be pulled back.

“Leaving me so soon?”

She doesn’t know the meaning behind her words. I’ll never leave, not her and not this ranch. This is my home and my life. I shake my head and feel my lips go into a tight line. I could say so much right now and have no doubt that most of it would scare her away. Hell, my thoughts are scaring me and I have three years on her.

“I’m dirty,” I admit to her, staying with the safest answer to her open-ended question.

“I don’t care, Tyler.”

“What changed?” It’s a question that’s been sitting on the tip of my tongue since last night. Savannah did this complete turnaround and while I’m grateful, I’m skeptical.

Moving to the side, I leave half my body still on her. She moves her leg, locking it behind mine and effectively keeping me in place.

“Yesterday when I went inside to get ready, my mom called and I thought she’d be happy to talk to me, but she wasn’t. She was short and rude, reminding me that I screwed up and that I better not do the same crap here too. I was so angry that I took it out on you. You were trying to be nice and I didn’t deserve it. When you left me in your truck, I thought, “Wow, I must not be important to him either.” I went into your house thinking I’d snoop. Treat you like you were treating me, but when I saw the pictures of us on your mantel, something inside of me clicked. I started remembering us before I moved and how I used to smile. How you used to make me smile. My friends in New York, they don’t smile, not like you and Jeremiah.”

“How do we smile?”

Savannah moves so she can see me clearly. “When you smile, you light up the whole room. Your smile means that you’re happy. I haven’t smiled like that in years and wanted to remember what it felt like.”

“So you thought you’d kiss me?” I ask, playfully.

“No, that was something I wanted to do since that day in the kitchen. I just didn’t know how you’d react. I mean, I had a pretty good idea from earlier in the day when you held onto my hip but I was being an epic bitch and was just praying you wouldn’t push me away.”

“I’d never push you away, Savannah.”

She snuggles into my chest, draping her arm around me. I’m not sure if this is the right time, but I have to ask. “Sweetheart, why’d you get sent here?”

She sighs and moves her hand to the back of my head. Her fingers glide along the nape of my neck. “I had a party. Mom was never home, I was lonely and desperate to fit in. You know at first when we moved, things were great. We went to the park, toured some museums, all stuff we didn’t do here, but she quickly got promoted and started spending more and more time at work or when she was home, she was locked in her office. My mom was rising up the ranks as one of those big time celebrity lawyers you see on TV and while she looked great and powerful to everyone else, she was ignoring me. I could go two, three nights before I’d see her and one night I reached my breaking point. I invited friends over and things got out of hand. She um… caught me with a boy in my bed. I was drunk and there were people all over the apartment in various states of undress. She found some cocaine residue on her mirror and freaked out. Even though I passed the drug test she gave me, she still opted to send me here to fix myself.”

I pull her closer, hugging her to me. Life here is so laid back, but I get that her mom would be mad. “I’d be pissed too if I came home and found you like that.”