Breaking Stars (The Celebrity 2)

I knew Tatum was attracted to me. I could see it in the way he looked at me, but he apparently had far more self-control than I did. He had indifference down to a fine art, and every time he hit me with it, I felt dumber and dumber.

“Tatum?” I shouted toward his bedroom, and he poked his head out from the doorway with his eyebrows raised in response. “Any word about my car?”

Changing the subject seemed to be a good idea. Maybe if we focused on something else, he’d stop running away from me.

“The tire’s going to take a week to get here,” he said flatly.

“A week?” I honestly didn’t care, but my surprise made my words come out sounding as if I were annoyed.

He blinked, then said deliberately, “It’s a specialized tire, so it’s taking extra time. I can put a rush on it if you need to get out of here sooner. I’ll go to town and pick it up or—”

He was shutting me out again; I could see it written all over his face, so I shook my head and interrupted him. “No. It’s okay. I was just surprised, but you know I’m not in any rush.”

Did he know I wasn’t in any rush?

Well, he did now.

• • •

After changing into my dark brown sundress that went perfectly with Mrs. Montgomery’s leather boots, I accessorized with some turquoise jewelry and was all set to go. When I stepped out of my room, I found Tatum waiting for me wearing a pair of dark blue jeans and a black sleeveless shirt. His arm muscles bulged with definition, and his baseball cap was on backward, covering his dark brown hair. He looked as hot as hell, and I wanted to meet the hell maker.

Tatum examined me from head to toe, hesitating on my legs for a moment, long enough for me to catch him doing it. I smiled, happy he liked what he saw, even if he’d never admit it.

We walked together toward his truck, then Tatum opened the door for me and Buster suddenly pushed me aside and tried to jump in. “No, Buster! Go lay down,” Tatum shouted, and Buster retreated toward the house. “Sorry about that.”

“It’s okay,” I said before hopping into the truck and tugging down the hem of my dress.

Tatum sat in the driver’s seat and cranked the ignition. The truck’s engine roared and he shifted into reverse. Before he let his foot off the brake, he turned to me, his fingers mere inches from my shoulder. “You look really pretty. The boots suit you.”

“Thanks. You look really nice too.” Our eyes locked for a moment before he looked out the back window.

The drive was painless, but quiet. Country music played softly on the radio as I took in my surroundings, constantly making little sounds of wonder when something new to me came into view, which was often.

Tatum pulled the truck onto a gravel drive and drove for what seemed like miles before we passed the first house. “Is this it?” I asked.

“That’s just their house. We’re heading out into the field. Still have a little ways to go yet.” Tatum smiled and continued staring ahead.

Eventually there was a break from the rows of crops where a plowed dirt field sat looking out of place. “Why is it,” I started to ask but didn’t know how to word my question. “Do things not grow out here? I’m confused.”

“They plow it for us to party on,” he said, as if it was the most natural answer on earth.

“You plow perfectly usable crop space away to party on?”

“Oh, Princess,” he said with a deep, throaty laugh. I loved the laugh but hated the nickname, so I frowned. “They aren’t using this part of the field, so they keep it plowed so we can come out here.”

“Okay,” I said with a shrug, still not really getting it, but accepting his answer all the same.

It was well before sunset and plenty of people were milling around with red plastic cups in their hands. Lifted trucks of all shapes and sizes sat parked in a circle, their tailgates down as country music blasted from someone’s speakers. A crowd was milling around one of the trucks, and I noticed there was a keg in the back of it.

“How do we see later? Or do we all just hang out in the dark together,” I asked, feeling like an idiot.

“Most of us turn on our headlights,” Tatum answered.

“Ah, gotcha.”

“In the winter we have bonfires. But not when it’s hot at night like this.”

“How do you guys keep the fire from burning up the nearby field?” I was slightly concerned with this situation.