All For You (Boys of the South) (7 page)

She gives me a look,
then leaves me standing there.

I’m an
idiot.

Following her to the
kitchen, I take in her house. It’s nice and cozy inside,
nothing fancy, and everything’s functional. There are a lot of
pictures of McKenzie when she was little and as she grew older. One I
recognize from our senior portraits. I pause to study it, staring at
the beautiful girl with sad eyes.

“My dad likes
to put up my pictures everywhere,” she says, like she has to
apologize for anything.

“I don’t
blame him, but I’d put your picture up everywhere in my room
for totally different reasons.”

“Oh.”

Then she starts for
the kitchen again. It’s right off the living room, and you can
see the television from the table in the center. Her dad had to be
the one in charge of placement.

She sets the pizza
on the table and begins fixing drinks, pulling out plates and
napkins. I want to help her, but I’m on shaky ground and she’s
getting quieter by the minute. Pretty soon, I’m sure she’ll
have some excuse as to why I should leave and that’ll be all
she wrote.

Flipping one of the
chairs around, I join her at the table. Immediately, I chow down on
the pizza while she does the same.

“I have an
uncle.”

She blinks at me,
finishes chewing her last bite of pizza, and says, “So do I.”

“Is he in
jail?”

“Um, no.”

“Mine is.”

“For what?”

“Gangbanger.”

That gets her
attention. “That’s not funny. Just because I made a
stupid remark—”

“He killed
people, raped women, and sold drugs. It’s why my grandparents
sent my dad to school here, to get away from that life. They had
friends in Charlotte who made sure he stayed in school and kept his
nose clean,” I say, nonchalantly. “Turned out he has a
head for math, and a talent for soccer.”

“Like you.”

“Yeah.”
I grin, and then turn serious. “But my uncle, he’s still
in jail. We visit him in the summer, take him things, and remind
ourselves that it could be any of us.”

“Why are you
telling me this?”

“No one around
here knows.” I drink some of the soda she poured for me. “But
they probably think it about me.”

“That you’re
in the popped-collar gang?”

I throw at discarded
piece of crust at her. It lands on her plate, and she laughs. “I’m
telling you, because I want you to have this piece of information
about me.”

Understanding dawns.
This is something she can use against me, something that could hurt
me and my family’s reputation.

“My parents
never got married,” she says. “My momma said it was an
archaic institution that subjugates women.”

That was certainly
one way to look at it. “What do you think?”

“That what she
thought and what she chose doesn’t mean I have to be like her.”

“What if she
came back, and wanted to get married?”

“I would have
a difficult time believing it was her,” McKenzie says firmly. A
warning, I think.

“So you’d
write her off? No chance to prove to you that she’s different?”

A small smile curves
the corners of her mouth. “I said difficult, not
impossible
.”

In that instant, I
know I haven’t lost her.

Chapter Eight

McKenzie

“I had a nice
time tonight,” I say, standing beside West’s car. It’s
almost time for my dad to get home, and I don’t think he’d
be too happy to see a guy in our house after midnight.

“Nice enough
to want to do it again? Maybe tomorrow night?” West wraps his
arms around me, and my shivering body begins to warm.

“Depends on if
I get to drive or not.”

“You can pick
me up, if you want.” He grins and kisses my forehead. “You’re
truck is much roomier than mine.”

Why would we need a
bigger vehicle? “Roomier for what?”

He laughs softly.
“God, you’re innocent.”

“Oh...
oh.
”
I bump him with my hip. “You’re so cocky.”

“Damn right I
am.”

“How can any
female resist that?”

“Tomorrow?”

“Yes,” I
say with a firm nod. “I’ll go out with you again.”

He steps away, and I
wish that his kiss had travelled lower. “Be prepared to have
the pants charmed off you.”

“Just my
pants?” I tease and then slap my hand over my mouth. I did not
just say that to him.

He wiggles his
brows. “Hopefully more than that.” Opening the car door,
he starts to get in and then turns to look at me. “Don’t
be afraid to be yourself with me, or flirt, or say whatever crosses
your mind. Okay?”

For some reason I
want to cry, and I have to bite the inside of my cheek to stop myself
from doing it. “‘Kay.”

“And
McKenzie?”

“Yes?”

He lets go of the
door, strides right up to me and kisses me for so long and so hard
that I forget all the reasons why I shouldn’t be kissing him.
All the reasons why I shouldn’t want to kiss him.

Finally, he pulls
away, and presses the palm of his hand to my heart. “Good.”

“My heart is
beating like I’ve just shoveled an entire mound of top soil and
you’re happy?”

In answer, he takes
my hand and flattens it over his chest. We’re standing there,
palm to palm, heart to heart. His heart races beneath my hand,
thumping hard against his chest.

“That’s
what it does every time I’m with you.”

***

The next evening,
West picks me up at six and drives into the city. We go to a posh
restaurant that has beautiful place settings and servers who scrape
off the tablecloths with small, flat metal bars that are curved at
the bottom every chance they get.

West and I talk
about everything, nothing’s off-topic. Not high school, not
college, not even his former relationship with Charlie. He even
reveals that he didn’t actually want to go to Georgetown, but
his dad had insisted, wanting to create a tradition for years to
come.

“I couldn’t
disappoint him,” he says. “But I wanted to go to
Carolina.”

“So transfer,”
I say, stabbing at my steak. “I’m sure he’ll
understand.”

“Maybe I’ll
let you talk to him for me.”

“If you want.”
I smile over my glass of water, and he winks at me. I don’t
think I’ll ever get used to him doing that.

“What about
you?”

“This is my
last year, I’ll have an associate’s degree in office
management and then I plan on helping my dad run Walsh’s.”

“Just like
that?”

I nod and set my
glass down. “Just like that.”

“Maybe you can
hire me as your C.P.A.”

“Won’t
you be travelling the world, soccer star?”

His chocolate eyes
travel down my face, to my neck, and lower still to the flash of bare
skin that rises above my neckline. “I don’t know. Seems
like there’s an entire world I could spend time exploring right
here.” Suddenly, I feel his hand on my knee, slowly gliding up
my bare leg.

My nipples tighten
and I squirm in my seat, trying to relieve the pressure between my
thighs.

“Do you want
me to stop?” he whispers, the tips of his fingers at the edge
of my skirt. “Or should I keep going? Maybe have a little
dessert before dessert?”

“I-I—”

The server appears,
with his scraper, and West sits up, his hand now on his glass. I
press my hands against my cheeks, trying to cool them, but unless I
dump the entire glass of water on my head, there’s no other
help for it.

“Dessert?”
the server asks.

This time I look at
West. What could it hurt to flirt with him, to take this date to as
far as I dare? Gazing into his eyes, I say, “Yes, I’d
love to have some dessert, and I know he would, too.”

Once dessert is
served, West pushes a blue box across the table. I recognize the
packaging and my eyes go wide.

“Is that
from—?”

“Open it,
please.”

Hands shaking, I do.
Nestled inside is a pair of dainty earrings shaped like flower
blossoms. They’re pink with white stones in the middle. “These
are beautiful.”

“I didn’t
know your birthstone, so I went with pink topaz and diamonds. I hope
that’s okay.”

“It’s
more than okay, but I didn’t get you anything.”

“Going on a
second date with me is more than I deserve. You owe me nothing in
return, McKenzie.
Nothing
,”
he says quietly, and the ice around my heart melts a little more.

After driving back
to Forrestville, I fully expect him to take me home and I fully
expect to be perfectly fine with it.

Our earlier
flirting and banter has transitioned into more mundane things, like
work and classes.

“I had a
really nice time tonight. Thank you for giving me the chance to get
to know you a little better. I won’t pester you anymore,”
he says with finality in his voice, and I panic.

“Are your
parents home?”

“No,” he
says, his voice growing rough. “They’re gone for the
week, couples retreat at The Grove Park Inn, and won’t be back
until next Thursday. Why?”

“Because,”
I say, licking my lips and trying again. “Because.”

“Please,”
I think I hear him whisper.

“I told my dad
I was spending the night at Julia’s, that you were dropping me
off there.” Not a complete lie. I had told my dad I’d
most likely go over to Julia’s after my date with West.

“So you want
me to take you—”

“To your
house,” I say, throwing all caution, all rational thought to
the wind. “I want to spend the night with you.”

***

I’ve never
seen someone drive so fast yet so carefully.

West weaves in and
out of traffic like a pro. “Beau Montgomery taught me.”

“Of course you
know him.” Because who else would live in The Oaks but NASCAR
royalty?

“Don’t…
just don’t start thinking about that.”

I take his hand.
“I’m not. It was an observation, nothing more. I’m
not changing my mind.”

Another hard left,
and we’re in his neighborhood, then in his driveway. Letting go
of my hand, he throws open his door and races around to mine, pulling
me out and swooping me up in his arms.

“I’m not
changing my mind,” I assure him again.

He presses a series
of numbers on an outdoor keypad, and the door clicks open. He takes
two steps inside and sets me on my feet, kissing the top of my head
before shutting the door.

I take his hand and
he leads the way to his room.

“You can, you
know,” he says as we climb the stairs. “You can change
your mind at any time.”

“I’m not
drunk, West. I know exactly what I’m doing,” I say, once
we’re in his room.

He shuts the door,
then locks it and looks at me. “That’s to keep people
out, not you in.”

“Why do you
keep saying stuff like that?” I wrap my arms around him and
feel his body shake. “I want to be here.”

“Because for
too long, everyone else had power over you. It’s your turn.”

I lean back. “So
I’m in charge?”

He nods.

“Then strip.”

Immediately, he gets
as nude as the day he was born, and shows me exactly how excited he
is.

“Wow.” I
can’t stop looking at him, where he’s hard and huge. And
hung. And huge. And oh dear God. What am I going to do with
that?
“I think you need to take over now.”

My gaze flickers to
him, and instead of a smug smile, all I see is a raw need for me.
Slowly, he unzips the side of my dress, his hands following the
contours of my body as he does.

As he pushes the
material over my shoulders, he kisses each side, and I tremble. My
thighs grow slick as I stand there, wearing nothing but a lacy black
bra, matching thong, and heels.

“Next time, I
think I’ll let you keep the heels on,” he murmurs.

I take off my heels,
push them to the side and face him once more.

Then he touches me,
tracing a line from my neck, down the center of my chest, to my
stomach and lower, until he cups me and groans his approval. “You’re
soaking your panties.”

“That’s
all your fault.” He kneels in front of me, and my hands go to
his shoulders to balance myself as he pulls the flimsy lace down. I
step out of them and he throws my thong across the room.

Cupping my hips, he
pulls me closer. I fight the urge to cover myself, then I give up and
place my hand over the curls between my legs.

“Don’t
do that, baby.” He licks the space between each finger. “I
want to taste you.”

“I’m
not… that is… you’re the only… ah…”

His head jerks up.
“I’m the only one you’ve ever been with?”

I nod, my face fire
red now, and wait for him to laugh or ask what’s wrong with me.
Only he doesn’t do any of those things.

Instead, he leans
his head against my thigh and exhales. “I’m sorry,
sweetheart.” His eyes close, long lashes tickling my skin.