That was how it felt every time I looked at Parker Summerhill.
Beautiful. Happy. Mine.
We never established titles, but as she lay beside me in the meadow by the pond, daisies and bumblebees scattered around, those were the three words that came to mind.
Beautiful with her sun-kissed cheeks that deepened the shade of her freckles.
Happy after I made love to her in the grass.
And mine. Because no way in hell would she ever be anyone else’s.
Her hands were crossed over her stomach, her delicate floral skirt ruffled around her thighs from my time between her legs. Her blonde hair was in perfect disarray, fanned out around her with specks of grass and flower petals caught in the strands. And her pink lips were curved at the corners, satisfied and content.
“You ever wonder what the birds are doing?” she asked, gaze stuck on the cotton candy clouds hanging high above us.
This time of year, the air stayed warm until the sun went down. The chirps and buzzing around us were slowly getting fainter and fainter as the wildlife prepped itself for sleep. But I planned to stay here all night. Between Parker’s legs. My mouth on hers. Her body beneath mine. We didn’t need blankets or a roof. Not when we had each other.
That was enough for me.
“Preparing for winter,” I answered.
She shook her head. “I mean where they want to go next.”
“South,” I deadpanned.
She smacked my arm playfully. “Be serious, Beckham.”
I grabbed that arm, tugging her on top of me. She giggled, hair falling into her face.
“Iamserious.” I brushed the strands behind her ears so I could get a better look at her face. I could never tire of it. “Serious as I’ve ever been.”
“You think they wanna reach for the stars like us?” she pondered.
“Baby, I don’t need the stars. Not when I have you.”
Her lashes fluttered with the roll of her eyes.
“Fine,” I relented. “Ask me again.”
Her golden-brown gaze pinned me in place. Parker had a thing for dreaming big, and now was one of those times when she got lost in that head of hers. What I’d give to have even a second inside her pretty little mind.
“They sayreach for the starslike it’s some unachievable thing,” she went on.
This was what we did. She got quizzical about the world. I got hung up on her.
I entertained her every time.
The cycle repeated itself.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.” Her chin tilted back as her eyes met the fading sky. The sunset lit her something pretty, pinks and oranges painting her tanned skin in a mirage of perfection. “I think I’m just gonna keep on reaching till I get there.”
I smiled. “What’s that look like?”
A little shrug. “Traveling outside of Bell Buckle. Finding myself. Living the life I didn’t get to live being here.”
My eyes fell while hers stayed pinned to the clouds. Her words were a blow she wasn’t intending to land, but they did nonetheless. Parker was meant to fly, and she believed her parents clipped her wings the day she was born. Maybe they did. But I didn’t want to be like them.Didn’t want to hold her back from experiencing the world. If Bell Buckle wasn’t enough, I’d only encourage her to seek more.
