“I want them to hear me.” She bubbles the words out. I reach down and touch her scalding hot flesh until she’s screaming my name out at the top of her lungs.
Maybe Reese is ready to take this relationship to the next level. Maybe before the summer is through we’ll go from the best kept secret to the best new relationship.
Reese collapses over my shoulders and hangs on for dear life as I throb into her. She breathes hard in my ear, her body still seizing and trembling. Her arms are locked over me, and there’s no way in hell I’m letting go first.
The sun sets, turning the sky that magical shade of lavender that only twilight can bring. Loveless—the world outside this covered bridge—it all looks different now that Reese and I have crossed that threshold. We had walked so easily into an alternate realm that we failed to realize we’d have to walk through a fire to get ourselves out. Not that I want out, but fall is just around the corner and that’s when summer flings tend to come crashing to an end.
“Do we really have to go back?” she whispers.
“There’s no reason not to.”
“There’s every reason not to.”
And for the first time, it feels like I’m Reese Westfield’s dirty little secret.
10
Platonic Delusions
Reese
In the morning, there’s an abrupt knock over my door as Beverly demands I get the hell downstairs before Dad leaves for his meeting.
I throw my body in the shower and wrap myself in my favorite waffle-knit robe before heading to the dining room. I would have jumped down the stairwell for my mother, but a part of me wanted to teach Bev a lesson for talking to me like I was thirteen, or more the point like she really cared.
“You’re in deep shit,” Kennedy hisses, passing me on the way.
I saw my phone last night for the first time since I left and there were at least a half dozen threats letting me know she was done covering for my ass—that I had everyone on the planet worried, including her.
“Reese.” Dad comes at me from the kitchen and nearly drops his coffee as he lunges into an embrace. “Dear God, I was so frightened.” His voice breaks, and I hold my breath a second. I haven’t seen my father cry since Mom died, and, now, here I was, bringing him a new brand of grief.
“I’m fine.” I back up, trying to brush it off. “You guys hungry? I’ll make pancakes,” I offer. I’d rather go out and ground the wheat myself than stay here and see the sorrow I’ve etched into my father’s face.
“Pancakes? Who could eat?” Beverly’s voice hits its upper register. “You had us worried sick.” She takes a step into me. “I drove your father to the ER last Thursday because he was having chest pains at the thought of you lying in a ditch.” She shakes her finger in my face as a genuine fury brews in her.
I glance to my father. “Did you have a heart attack?” My hand rises to my throat.
In one of her texts, Kennedy mentioned I should get back quick—that there was some kind of family emergency. Of course, I only saw that a few hours ago, but, had I seen it at the falls, I would have assumed she was lying.
“No.” Dad shoots Bev a look that suggests he’d rather not go there.
“It was a cardiac episode,” she says it stern, glaring at his effort to downplay the event. Bev reverts to me with her pent up anger. “You may be over eighteen but you are not anywhere near the stage in your life where you can pick up for two weeks without explanation.” Her crimson lipstick bleeds into the cracks around her mouth. It looks like a fire feathering from her face, and judging by her temper, it may as well be.
“She’s right.” Dad acquiesces. “I was worried sick, and, quite frankly, if it happens again I’m positive both my heart and my mind will give out.” He pulls me in and holds me in his arms as if I had just been rescued from a burning building. I pat his shoulders trying to calm him. He feels frail in comparison to Ace, and for the first time I see my father as a mortal. “I’m pleading with you, Reese, don’t be so heartless as to cut us off like that.” He picks up my hand, his eyes still aching with worry. “Kennedy said these were friends of yours from school, that were passing through. Did you get lost? Were you hungry?”
Oh crap. On top of everything else, I have to look my father in the eye and lie to him.
“No. I swear I was never lost. I was never hungry. Not once. I was totally safe. We just lost track of time. That’s all.”
Dad glances down at his watch. “Speaking of losing track of time, I’ve got to make tracks myself or I’m going to miss this meeting. Try to be here when I get home.” Dad squeezes me in a tragic embrace. I can feel the sorrow pouring from him like oil. “There are only a few weeks left before you need to get back to school, and I want to spend all the time with my baby girl I can.” He presses a kiss over my forehead. “Both my girls.” He points over at Kennedy before whisking himself out the door.
Beverly steps square in front of me with her arms folded tight, her lips pinched as she readies to release some tension.
“I’m sorry.” I shake my head. “I swear these girls I was with—”
“You can cut the bull. I know you were with that Waterman boy. Kennedy told me the entire thing.” Her murky green eyes narrow in on me, the exact shade of algae-riddled rocks. “You realize your father thinks you’re engaged and has leveraged a portion of his business to purchase you a home.” Her voice softens with that last bit. “I think at your age, a girl is easily confused. Obviously, you were out having a good time with this Waterman kid, but now you need to focus. You need to revert your attention to the well-educated man who declared his love for you in front of every important person your father and I know. You need to get back to the business of being a Westfield—and a part of that business is stepping up and linking arms with Warren, the man you’re destined to marry.” She cups my cheek with her hand and tilts into me with a false sense of sorrow. “Don’t you worry your pretty little head, there’s nothing wrong with keeping company on the side with the ranch hand, the handy man—the woodcutter. My own mother did it.”
“Grandma?” Kennedy gasps.
