American Honey

When I release her hand, Bethany follows me out on to her front porch, leaning against the railing as I walk down to my truck. I give her a quick wave, which she returns before I back out her drive.

Chapter Two

“Can I have a word?” I interrupt the kitchen chatter, my eyes on Bess.

“Oh, you’re back. What did you think of Bethany?” Bess’s eyes light up as she crosses the room to me.

She’s a sweet soul, with a habit of meddling.

“I didn’t realize you had already met her when you sent me to deliver the pie.”

“I didn’t tell you?” she asks innocently.

I smirk, draping my arm around her shoulders and kissing the side of her head. “I’m on to you.”

She grins. “She’s a real pretty girl, isn’t she?”

I almost argue her use of the word girl, in my opinion Bethany is all woman; instead, I only nod my agreement.

“Well,” she pushes, “didn’t you think she was pretty?”

Smoldering hazel eyes, plump kissable lips, and auburn curls flash through my mind. “She’s pretty.”

Gorgeous, really.

“It’s so nice to have someone your age living so close to us now. Maybe you could ask her on a date.”

“Bess,” I interrupt, “she just moved here. Let the poor woman settle in before you try and get her a man.”

She glares up at me, a sight that would have had my eight-year-old self quaking in my boots, but now just makes me want to hug her. “This is the reason you’re still single. You are too relaxed about women. You need to be more forceful and get what you want.”

I grin down at her. “I haven’t had any complaints.”

It takes everything I have not to laugh when she starts muttering, “No complaints.” She pushes away from me and opens the front door. “I don’t see a line waiting to go out with you.”

Ouch.

Frowning, I walk out onto the front porch and slump into an old wooden rocker. She follows me cautiously, possibly regretting the bite in her words. I don’t say it, but I’d love to be settled down, married with children of my own. I’ve dated, but shit always came up, differences. I’ll be thirty in less than a year and I’m happy where I am, on this farm. I have no desire to live anywhere else.

I grew up here. My dad’s health started declining when it would have been time for me to go away to college. I decided to stay home, take courses at the local community college so I could help my dad. I wouldn’t go back and do things differently; it just made meeting girls hard. I was too busy with work and school to socialize.

Besides, it seems like every girl who’s ever sparked my interest has moved away. A girl I grew up with, Sawyer, came back into my life last year. Never thought I’d be interested in a woman with pink hair, but it didn’t matter anyway. She was in love with someone else. They’re already married and expecting a baby now. Story of my life.

As cute as Bethany is, there’s no guarantee she’ll even like country life. There’s a fifty-fifty chance she’ll be gone within a year. I’m a watcher, a planner and a patient man. If she’s still here this time next year, maybe I’ll ask her out.

Bess breaks the silence. “I’m sorry I was rough.”

Shaking my head, I smile up at her. “You didn’t say anything I don’t already know.”

I skip dinner with the rest of the house in favor of my quiet cabin, still full from pie and ice cream. There’s a loft above the main room with a thick mattress and soft cushions. A porthole window offers a gentle breeze from the orchard. I’ve spent many a day sprawled out up here with a book. It was my hideaway even when I was younger.

Unless someone takes the time to climb the wooden ladder leading up here, there’s no way to know I’m here. I’m a solitary man. I need time to myself, and after the long winter in the main house, I need it more than ever. Today, instead of reading, I contemplate the surprise that is Bethany.

It’ll take a while to not picture her on her back, long bare legs sticking out from underneath the table. Pairing that image with the noises she made as she ate that pie, I groan as the two moments combine in my mind and send blood rapidly to my painfully hardening cock. I may be solitary, but that does not mean I don’t enjoy the feel of a woman underneath me.

At this moment, I’m wishing it was a certain woman with eyes that can’t make up their mind between green or brown. Last thing I should be thinking of is dragging those cut-off jean shorts down her legs and tasting her. What I should be doing is taking a long cold shower, but climbing down that ladder with a stiff dick will be a pain in the ass.

I unbuckle my belt, then pop open the button on my worn jeans. My cock pushes almost painfully against the zipper as I ease it down. Once I’m free, I grip, picturing Bethany on her knees and those luscious lips wrapped around it. Her eyes blink up at me as she sucks me down deeply. With each blink, they change colors only slightly, one time looking more brown, the next more green.