American Honey

The truck door swings open and I scream. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?”

“Nothing, you just scared me.”

Tyler reaches for my hand and helps me out of the truck. I clutch onto the sides of his flannel shirt and follow, bumping into him a few times before we reach the back of the truck. He lifts me onto the tailgate and jumps up next to me.

“Wanna lie down?”

“Yeah,” I reply as I scoot back. Tyler’s made us a bed back here, complete with pillows. I lie next to him and watch the sky. “Oh my, what was that?”

“Lightning bug. Don’t you remember when we were little and I caught one and put it in my mouth. My cheeks lit up. It looked like I had a light s

witch in my mouth. My mom was yellin’ about me being taken over by aliens.”

I laugh and remember the night he’s talking about. We were so young and he was teasing me about being a baby because he was older. I cried to my mom and she told me I’d get my revenge when he became my husband. At that time, I thought Tyler had cooties and didn’t want him touching me – especially if he was putting bugs in his mouth.

“I should catch one now.”

“Oh, hell no,” I say quickly. “If you do that, I’m not kissing you.”

In the darkness I feel him adjust. His arm comes around me as he moves closer. “I’d much rather kiss you than stick a bug in my mouth.”

“That’s good to know because bugs are gross, but so are boys.”

“Good thing I’m a man,” he says before his lips crash down on mine. This kiss is different from the others we’ve shared. While it starts out slow, I can feel the urgency in the way he’s holding me. His tongue caresses mine in a slow, languid motion. His lips mold to mine, making us one. Hands roam, his, mine, ours together.

My hand slips under his shirt and the need to feel him against my skin is prevalent. I wiggle until we’re touching, only for him to sit up and remove his shirt. It’s too dark for me to see him so I have to rely on my hands to tell my mind what I’m feeling.

His muscles are toned but not bulging. They’re perfect. He hisses when my fingers graze his nipples. I smile, knowing I’ve elicited that response from him. I hook my finger into his belt loop and pull him on top of me. He doesn’t hesitate as he settles between my legs.

Tyler moves against me, denim on denim creating enough friction to cause me to squirm. My fingers dig into his back, urging him to keep going. His lips are needy and move from my mouth to my neck and back.

“Savannah, we have to stop.” Not the words I want to hear, but he’s right. We’re out in the middle of nowhere and as much as my body thinks I want this, I’m not sure if I do. Tyler shifts off of me but just barely. He kisses my neck lightly, small yet intimate gestures. “I don’t want you to think that I don’t want to go there with you. I do, but not out here and not until we’ve had a proper date. I’m havin’ a hard time keepin’ my hands to myself, I’m sure you’ve noticed, but I want to do right by you. I want to take you out and show you that I can be the gentleman you deserve.”

“I’ve never had anyone say something like that to me before.”

Tyler moves up to rest on his elbow. “You’re so freakin’ beautiful and I’m one lucky bastard to have you in my arms. All the guys tonight, they wanted your number and all I could do was laugh at them because you were goin’ home with me. I’m gonna take you out tomorrow, just you and me.”

“As long as I’m with you, Tyler, no one else exists. You can take me to the carnival for all I care. I just want you, by my side.”

As soon as the words leave my mouth I know I’ve just bought myself a whole lot of heartache.

Chapter 15 – Tyler

With one last look in the mirror, I run my hands down the front of my white button down and make sure it’s tucked into my Wranglers. My sleeves are rolled up and my black Stetson is on. I’m ready for my first, of what will hopefully be many, dates with Savannah. I need to make the most of her days here on the ranch. I don’t want her to forget me when she’s off “decorating” Paris. The thought of asking her to stay a little longer has crossed my mind, but it’s not fair of me to ask. She needs to see that she belongs here, that this is her home. I can’t force her to see what I’m seeing if she’s not ready.

Last night, I almost took it too far. She was there, urging me, but taking her like that – our first time – is not how I pictured us finally connecting. I’m not trying to be some poor romantic, but dammit if the girl doesn’t deserve something better than a pick-up truck fuck.

I take one last look around my bedroom. I tidied up last night after I dropped her off, dusted and vacuumed – two chores that I never think about doing. I made my bed this morning, thinking that my mom would be proud of me if she were here right now. I’m hoping to take Savannah to see my mom. I know she’d like to see Savannah, but I’m sure the feeling that she lost her best friend will surface again. It took my mom a long time to get over the total break in communication that took place when they left for New York. We were all hurt.

The flowers that I bought earlier this morning are sitting by the door, waiting for me to take them to Savannah. I never brought Annamae flowers; maybe that was where I went wrong. Either way, I don’t want to mess up with Savannah. I close my eyes and lean my head against the door. I need my mind to stop thinking that she and I have a future after this summer. She’s leaving. I’m staying. Paris is no place for a guy like me. I’d be lost unless we’re out in the country with a few horses and a cow or two. But that’s not what Savannah wants. I heard her talking last night to some of the girls; she wants Paris for its culture, fashion and cobblestone streets. She’s excited to sit in the little cafés and sip fancy coffee with her pinky finger in the air. None of that appeals to me. If anything, I need to reeducate Savannah McGuire on why her place is here.

I know I need to show her everything that she can have here. There’s the pond, the horses and the long nights under the cover of stars. And there’s me. She can’t have this in Paris. Tonight after dinner, I’m going to take her out on horseback to the pond to remind her that she once loved it here and never wanted to leave. If that doesn’t work, I’ll need to convince myself that I can let her go when the time comes. After only a few weeks of her being here and days of being with her, I’m in deep and don’t know if I can survive her leaving me again.

The drive over is short and doesn’t really afford me the opportunity to settle my nerves. I need to shut off my mind and stop thinking about what will happen at the end of the summer. Even though the situation feels out of my control, I need to do everything I can to try and change her mind.

As soon as I slam the door to my truck, the front porch door is shutting as well. With each step I take, she’s taking one. When I reach the bottom step she stands before me, six stairs away, staring down at me. I swallow hard as I appraise the sheer beauty before me. Her long blonde hair is curled with half of it pulled up, accentuating her neck. Thin straps are all that cover her shoulders, making my mouth water with thoughts of how much freedom my lips will have. Savannah’s dress is white, stopping at her knees and perfect against her tan skin. But what does me in are the brown boots that she’s wearing. She’s the most gorgeous cowgirl I’ve ever seen, even if I can’t get her to wear a hat. With her standing before me like this, it solidifies my belief that she belongs here.

Savannah’s gaze falls to the flowers hanging by my side. I look down and smirk. I can’t believe I forgot about them. “Um…” I clear my throat, ridding myself of the imaginary frog playing around with my voice. I don’t know what this means, but standing here in front of her makes me nervous. “These are for you.” I hold out the bouquet of sunflowers. The florist in town said I should go for roses, but Savannah doesn’t look like the “roses” type. She’s more sunshine and happy.