The Butterfly Effect (Boggy Creek Valley 1)

“Where’s your coat?” I asked, taking off my dress jacket and putting it over her shoulders.

“I thought I’d be okay without one, but it’s colder than I thought it would be.”

Placing my hand on her lower back, I guided her to my truck. I opened the passenger door and helped her up.

“You got a new truck! I like it,” Willa said as she took in my new vehicle.

Grinning, I looked at my Dodge. “Yeah, I like it too. I needed something for work. Dad’s old truck broke down on me twice in the last few weeks, and I really needed something reliable.”

“What color is it? I can’t tell in this dark parking lot? Navy or black?”

“It’s black.” I let go of her hand as she got settled into the seat and then shut her door.

Once I climbed in and started the truck, I glanced over at her. “Willa, I’m not so sure I should stay the night at your place.”

She turned in her seat to look at me. “I think what you should really worry about is when Hunter finds out you bought a Dodge instead of a Ford.”

I couldn’t help but laugh. “He’s already seen it and gave me his thoughts, trust me.”

Her grin was nearly my undoing.

“Willa.”

She brought a finger up and pressed it against my lips. “Shhh. Let’s wait until we get back to my place, okay? I don’t want to talk in your truck.”

I nodded. “Okay, I’ll wait.”

Aiden

The drive to Willa’s was only a few minutes, and she filled it with nonstop talk about the fall festival, how she entered her apple pie into the pie contest and her apple pumpkin butter into another. Then she talked about Thanksgiving, and how she was attempting to cook the turkey this year, and the fact that I needed to be there, along with my mother and Carl.

“I can’t decide if I’m going to try and cook the turkey with the stuffing inside or make it separately.”

“Why don’t you stuff the turkey with apples, carrots, and celery?” I suggested.

I could feel her eyes on me, so I quickly stole a glance. “What?”

“How do you know about cooking a turkey?”

With a smile, I said, “I remember watching my gram make the turkey that way. She always made the stuffing separately, and she’d use three different types of apples from the orchard.”

“I love that. I remember when she used to come in for apples. My goodness, her apple turnovers were the best! Do you think your mom still has the recipe for them?”

“I’m sure she does.”

Willa was lost in thought for a moment before she asked, “What kind of apples did she use in the turkey?”

I thought for a few moments. “Fuji was one. Golden Delicious…and what was the other one?”

“I could use Pink Lady!” Willa said with excitement.

“The third one might have been Granny Smith.”

“We’re totally doing that, but I’ll use Fuji, Golden, and Pink Lady.”

Laughing, I asked, “We?”

“Yes! You don’t want to help me make the turkey?”

With a half shrug, I replied, “I don’t mind helping.”

She reached for my hand, and my stomach did that weird little dip thing once again. I squeezed her fingers as I thought about how much I didn’t deserve this truly amazing woman.

Before I could think too deeply about my inadequacies, I was parked in Willa’s driveway. Then we were inside her house, and she was telling me to sit down on the sofa while she went and changed.

“I need to get out of this dress,” she called out over her shoulder as she started for her bedroom. Then she stopped and looked back at me. “Will you unzip this for me, Aiden?”

I swallowed the lump in my throat and gave my cock a stern warning.

Only talking. We are only talking.

Clearing my throat, I stood and made my way over to her. “Sure.”

With trembling fingers, I unzipped her dress and stared at the exposed skin of her back. For a moment, I almost bent down and kissed it. Instead, I backed away, and Willa glanced over her shoulder at me as she said, “Be back in two minutes, tops.”

When she was out of sight, I let out the breath I had been holding. She had no idea the affect she had on me. None.

I pushed my fingers through my hair, sighed, and then made my way into her kitchen. I needed a fucking drink.

Opening the refrigerator, I looked for beer and couldn’t find anything. “Willa?” I shouted. “Do you have any beer?”

“Nope!” she called out. “I have no alcohol at all in the house.”

I felt my eyes widen in surprise as I looked into her pantry and through a few cabinets before finally resorting to looking in her wine cooler. She was right, she had no booze anywhere.

“None?” I called out once more.

“No, none.”

I spun around to see her leaning against the doorjamb, looking hot as hell in a pair of sweatpants and a long-sleeve T-shirt that had the name of her family’s orchard across the front. Her hair was still up, but a few loose strands hung down around her neck and face. She looked so young and innocent, just like that night in the barn, when I knew, had I asked her, that she would have given herself to me.