Serenity Falls (10 page)

My
hands clamp over my mouth hard as I try to mask the deep breaths my lungs are
dying to take. I had assumed that Sandy was the one talking about me to Wes,
but I never knew she thought all those things about me, and now, he does, too.

“All
right. I’ve said my piece, but I’m telling you, if you hurt her, I’ll kick your
ass. And you know you’re like a brother to me, but like I said, she’s
different. Kenleigh’s not here for your entertainment, Wes. She’s a good person
with a good heart. And the kids that come here love her, too. You know it’s
hard enough for them with all of their own special needs, but even the ones who
know they aren’t going to live forget about that when they’re here, and it’s
all because of that girl,” Brantley says with an exasperated sigh.

“I
got it. And you’re like a brother to me too, but just trust me on this one, okay?
Honestly, I think she could be the one to break me, not the other way around.”

Not
able to handle listening to them talking about me, I clear my throat and step
away from the wall. Tension pulsates thickly in the air as I round the corner
looking at Brantley and Wes. With a wide smile, I look between the two men who
were just talking about me. “Is something wrong?” I ask. Brantley’s hands rest
firmly on his hips, his knuckles begin to turn white, and his face has a red
tint to it. The veins bulge from Wes’ interlocked fingers straining behind his
neck. His knuckles are starting to turn white as well from the strain he has on
them. His lips aren’t turned up in a smile anymore, and there’s a blank look in
his eyes.

Wes
looks at Brantley for a long minute before he looks back at me. “Nothing. I’m gonna
go and get some air.” Without a backwards glance at me, he spins around and
walks out of the barn.

“What
was all that about?” I ask, pretending I didn’t hear them.

“You
know, Kenleigh, I like you a lot and really respect you, but don’t treat me
like I’m stupid. I know you and Wes have been spending a lot of time together.”
With a deep breath, he continues. “I wasn’t going to insert my two cents, but
then I heard him in here talking to someone when I came looking for him. I
didn’t know it was you he was talking to until I asked him if you were up there
and he didn’t deny it.” Brantley smoothes his hands over his bald head a couple
of times. He looks at me for a long moment, pinning me with his stare. “I know
you heard our conversation. I don’t know how much you heard, but don’t act like
you don’t know what’s wrong.” He drops his hands and walks over to an empty
stall.

Brantley
has never talked to me like this before. Ever since we met last summer, there’s
always been an easiness between us. We’ve been able to joke around with one
another, and it’s never been taken to extremes or insulting in any way.

He
walks over to a pitchfork in the corner of the stall. I take a minute to think
of how to fix this between us as he begins to muck the stall. I follow him,
take a deep breath, and hope that what I’m about to say won’t piss him off
further. “You’re right. I did hear some of y’alls conversation, mostly the tail
end of it, I’m assuming. And I’m so sorry if you thought I was treating you
like you were stupid. Because I don’t think that. I would never think you’re
stupid. You’re such a good friend to me and I appreciate you wanting to protect
me, but it’s okay. I know I’m only nineteen—“

“That’s
my point. You’re
nineteen,
Kenleigh. You don’t know him, but yet, you
two have been almost joined at the hip since he’s come home. I’m not trying to
be a dick here, but you’re too good for him. I’ve known Wes for about three
years now, and I know how he is.”

“Is
it so hard to believe that people can change?” I ask, arching an eyebrow at
him. “I’m not trying to throw a low blow at you, but I remember you telling me
how you moved here from Alabama because you couldn’t kick your heroin
addiction.”

“What’s
your point?” he bites out.

“My
point is that you’ve changed. I know it was hard for you, but you did it, and I
couldn’t be happier for you if I tried. You think I don’t know his type?
Professional bull riders carry the same reputation that rock stars do. The only
difference is theirs is in the country world. I’ve been to rodeos and seen how
women of all ages and from all different walks of life throw themselves at ‘em
and I know they eat that shit up. I’m not as naïve as everyone seems to think.
What I’m trying to say is that if you can change, what makes you think it’s so
impossible for him to do the same?”

“And
you think you might be the one to make him change?” he asks condescendingly.

“No.
I don’t want someone to change for me. They need to do it for themselves. But I
will say this. If I choose to get to know him better, that’s my business. Like
I said, I appreciate that you wanna look out for me, but I really don’t think
he’ll hurt me the way you think he will.”

“I
hope you’re right because I’d hate to kick his ass.” Brantley releases a long
sigh and then looks up at me with a grin pulling at his lips. “I’m sorry that I
snapped at you. It’s not my business, and I know that. I just don’t wanna see
you get hurt.”

I
nod my head in understanding. “I know and that’s why we’re such good friends.
I’d hate to see you get hurt, too.” My fingers tap on the edge of the stall a
couple of times. “Well, I guess I’ll get Autumn saddled up and take her out.”

“You’re
gonna go and look for him aren’t ya?” he asks.

“I
feel like I need to talk to him. I don’t want there to be tension between any
of us, especially because we’ll be here all summer.”

“All
right. Well, Mr. Adams asked me to tell him that the fence down by the creek
needs mending, so I’m sure that’s where you’ll find him.” And just like that,
Brantley turns his back to me and starts mucking the stall out again.

I
walk off, calling over my shoulder, “I love you, Brantley!”

“Yeah!
Yeah!” he shouts back.

After
returning to the stalls, I put Autumn away before deciding to head into the
house. I’d been out riding for almost two hours, looking for Wes up and down
the creek, and searching for the broken spot in the fence. The only spot I
found looked recently fixed. When that served me no result, I went to the spot
that he had taken me to last night. It was a lot harder to find since I’d only
been there when it was dark, but when I did find it, it was just as
breathtakingly beautiful. Maybe even more so, because now I know the meaning
behind it. He wasn’t there either.

Not
knowing what else to do but wait for him to come around, I decide that a nap
sounds really good. Carrying myself into the house and up to my room, I toe off
my boots before lying back on the bed. I’ve never been one to take naps, but as
hot as it is out, I feel completely drained. Rolling onto my side and tucking
my hands underneath the pillow, my eyes suddenly feel very heavy as they slide
to a close.

“Hey
beautiful,” I hear a familiar voice from somewhere distant. I attempt to roll
over, but stop when I feel something warm and a little scratchy, like the
softest grade of sandpaper you can buy, caress my cheek. Without realizing it,
I nuzzle into the unfamiliar yet familiar touch and sigh contentedly. Slowly,
my eyes flicker open. Deep red and purple hues surround the room as the sun is
almost done setting, and then I remember coming back to the house to nap after
not being able to find Wes.

I
clear my throat. “Hey.”

“Will
you come with me? I have something I have to show you,” Wes asks, staring into
my eyes.

“Sure.
What time is it?”

“Almost
nine.”

My
eyes shoot open as I jolt up on the bed. “What? It’s almost nine. Why didn’t
anyone wake me up?” I screech.

That
gains me a chuckle from Wes. “Well, when I found you about an hour ago, you
were sleeping so peacefully that I couldn’t wake you.”

“I’m
sorry that I fell asleep. I really only planned on taking a power nap, but
obviously, that didn’t happen.”

“Why
are you sorry?” A bewildered expression comes over his face.

“Because
I should’ve been up to help your mom cook dinner.”

“Kenleigh,
you know you don’t have to help her cook dinner right?”

“I
know, but I still feel like I should help. Your mom is letting me stay here and
not asking anything from me. The least I could do is help her cook everybody’s
meals.”

Wes
tucks a stray piece of hair behind my ear. “My mom wants you here in the house.
She doesn’t expect anything in return; trust me. Besides me not wanting to wake
you up, when I told her how I found you, she insisted that I let you sleep.
Don’t worry about it, okay?” Reaching for my hands and pulling me to my feet,
he says, “Come on.”

As
I follow him out the door, the house is dark and quiet. “Where is everybody?”

“Mom
and Dad went to town for a few things.” Wes tugs on my hand and pulls me closer
to his body.

The
wooden floor creaks beneath our feet as we make our way down the stairs and out
onto the porch. An ATV is waiting for us in the grass. Adrenaline starts
pumping its way through my veins as I hop on the back behind Wes. Just as he
starts it up, he looks back over his shoulder and says above the roar of the
motor, “Hold on. Tight.” He shoots me a wink as he turns back around, revving
the engine. I wrap my arms around his waist so that my hands rest against the
lean contours of his sculpted stomach. He guns it forward and we take off. My
hair sweeps back as it mixes with the wind. I shout over the whipping wind and
the scream of the four-wheeler. “Where are we going?”

“Do
you trust me?” He asks, yelling back.

Do
I trust him? I want to say no, but something in my gut pulls at me, telling me
that I do. My eyes squeeze shut while my grip around his waist tightens. I let
go of anything and everything that may make me want to hold back with him.
“Yeah! I trust you!” Before I know what’s happening, my head tucks against the
rippling muscles in his back as we go airborne. My stomach feels like it’s in
my throat as I hold in the scream that is so desperately trying to work its way
out of me. The muscles in my thighs clutch the seat, forcing my ass to stay
rooted to where it belongs. We both bounce as we land with a thud, but within
seconds, we’re airborne again. For the next few minutes, we ride around and
jump hills and speed our way to this destination that he still hasn’t told me
about. But it’s okay, because I trust him.

As
the ATV slows down and comes to a stop, I release my death grip from around his
midsection. I take a deep breath and shake my arms out to try to put some blood
flow back into them. With adrenaline raging through my veins like a hurricane,
I can’t help the laugh that escapes me. I jump off the four-wheeler with shaky
legs, still laughing.

“Why
are you laughing?” he asks through a grin.

“That
was insane.” With my trembling legs no longer able to hold me up, I fall to the
ground, laughing so hard that tears are now rolling down my face. I like to
live a carefree life, and rarely hold back from anything, but doing jumps on an
ATV is definitely a first for me.

“Insane
good or insane bad?” Wes laughs as he helps me off the ground.

“Definitely
good. I’ve never done anything like that before,” I answer as my laughter
subsides.

The
sun has now set, and I’m not paying attention to where we are as I dust myself
off. “Where are we?”

Wes
grabs a hold of my shoulders and gently turns me around.

My
breath catches as I come face to face with the most beautiful sight I think
I’ve ever seen. A large oak tree with branches spanning out sits before me covered
in white lights, casting a soft glow against the dark, country night, and
shadows against the deep, green leaves. Weathered planks of wood sit tucked
into the tree, displaying a tree house any child would love to have. Two
miniature windows cut out in the wooden planks, portions of leaves hanging in
front of them. A light flickers, fading in and out, as I look up at what is a
diminutive fort. “It’s beautiful,” I whisper.

The
weight of Wes’ arms surrounds my shoulders as he holds me to him. “I thought you
might like it,” he answers, brushing his lips against my ear.

Goose
bumps encase my whole body as I try to stop the shiver that begins to rush up
my spine. I turn my head, meeting his eyes. The joy he has for this place
shines through his smile. “I do. I really like this.”

“You
wanna go up?” When he steps away from me, I’m left with a chill as his
remaining body heat barely lingers on my back.

I
nod that I do, and Wes grabs my hand and leads me around to the back of the Oak
tree. A makeshift ladder lines the bark of the tree, leading into a hole at the
bottom of the tree house. “Go ahead,” he says, pulling me in front of him.

Barely
taking the first two steps up the ladder, I look back over my shoulder and down
at him. “I don’t think I can do this.” I wrap my fingers around the pieces of
wood nailed into the tree and hold on for dear life.

“Because
of your fear of heights?”

“Yes,”
I answer quietly.

Walking
closer to the tree, he places his hand on my lower back, supporting me. “I have
you, Kenleigh.”

“I
don’t know.” I shake my head like a two year old who doesn’t want to take a
nap, but God only knows if this thing is stable and sturdy enough.

“You
said you trusted me, right?”

“Yeah,
you, but not this thing.” I point to the rickety wood above me.

He
chuckles for a moment and then turns those pleading gorgeous eyes on me. “Then
trust me. I have you. I will not let anything happen to you.”

My
gaze turns away from him to the opening about twenty feet above me, and then
back to him. I take a deep breath and begin to climb. “Okay. But I swear to
you, if I fall off this ladder and die, I’m gonna haunt you.”

Wes
laughs at my response. But I’m serious. If I fall to my death, I will haunt him
until the day he dies.

“I
promise you won’t fall, but if you did, and you did haunt me, at least I’d be
able to say that I have a hot ass ghost haunting me.”

“I’m
sure you would,” I retort with my own chuckle as I pull myself up through the
hole in the floor of the tree house. With shaky hands and wobbly legs, I apply
pressure to the boards, praying to the good Lord above that it will hold my
weight. As I slowly pull myself up, I peek inside the wooden fort. A blanket
lies on the hard wooden floor. Lit candles are placed sporadically throughout,
and the soft sound of Thompson Square’s
Are You Gonna Kiss Me or Not
croons from a stereo on a ledge in the back of the tree house. Old tattered
posters of Aerosmith, Garth Brooks, George Strait, and Brooks and Dunn hang on
the walls.

I’m
pulled back from one of the most romantic sights I’ve ever seen when Wes’s
hands slip around my waist. “Do you like it?”

“You
did all of this?” I ask, turning to look at him.

I’m
answered with a nod and a shy smile. I shake my head as I turn in his grasp. “I
can’t believe you. I love it.” I lift my hand and cup his cheek, feeling his
clean-shaven skin, and pull his face down to mine. “Thank you,” I whisper
before faintly brushing my lips against his.

The
corners of his lips pull up in a slow smile when I pull back. “Wait, it gets
better.” He moves around me to an ice chest that sits tucked into an alcove. As
he scoots it across the floor, he opens it and pulls out two Saran Wrap covered
plates.

With
my curiosity peaked and my nerves settled, I move closer to Wes and reach my
hand out so he can hand the plates to me. “What’s that?”

“Food,”
he offers with a smile.

“Well,
no shit. What kind of food?” I ask with my own chuckle.

He
pulls back the plastic film and displays a perfectly cooked pork chop, green
beans, a slice of cornbread, and a baked potato. I didn’t realize how hungry I
was until the smell of the delicious meal invades my senses. With a loud
grumble, my stomach growls. Instantly, my cheeks turn ten shades of red. I
swallow down my mortification, straighten my back and shrug shoulders as if my
stomach grumbling isn’t a big deal.

“Hungry
much?” Wes laughs.

“Just
a little.” I take a seat. “Smart-ass.” With my feet tucked under me, I help him
place the plates on the blanket. I watch as Wes continues pulling out the sour
cream, cheese, salt and pepper, and two beers. A flutter takes off in my heart
as I think of how no one has ever done this for me. A man I barely know is
sitting here with me, doing all this for me. And I don’t even know how to say
thank you because I am completely speechless.

I
dig deep for courage, because what I’m about to do is not like me at all. With
his back to me, I lift up off my knees, gently grab his shoulders and speak
directly in his ear, letting my lips brush against the shell. “Thank you,” I
whisper. Before I can pull back, he spins around and pulls me to him. Within seconds,
his hands are in my hair as he crushes his lips to mine. It’s unyielding,
demanding—powerful. My fingers glide up his strong arms, feeling the corded
muscles that stretch up into his neck, before they thread into his hair. My
legs move me closer to where I’m able to straddle his lean hips. I kiss him
back with just as much want and passion. Our tongues match stroke for stroke.
Our breaths become labored as our tongues do their own two-step. With carnal
desire surging through my veins, I rock my hips against his jean clad, very
hard, very generous package, and grind my sweet spot against him. I break away
from his lips, trailing kisses along his strong jaw; all the while, his lips
caress the sensitive skin of my neck. I grind against him harder when I feel
his strong hands cup my very heavy, very achy breasts. “Oh… my… God… Wes,” I
pant in his ear.

“I
want you so bad,” he groans against the swell of my breasts.

My
arms wrap around his neck, and I hold him to me as I twist against him harder.

“If
you don’t want this to go any further, then we need to stop,” he says in
between sensual kisses and sucking.

My
mind tells me he’s right, but my body says fuck it. With everything in me, I
slow my movements and try to catch my breath. I open my eyes and stare into
his. Wild and all-consuming need beams from his eyes causing a fire to ignite
in the depths of my stomach.  “That’s not what I was expecting when I said
thank you,” I mumble breathlessly as I brush my lips against his.

Wes
squeezes my hips, returns my kiss, and lifts me a fraction off his waist.
“You’re making this harder for me, you know, when you kiss me like that.” His
eyes glance down to the bulging, hardness hidden in pants to me.

“Like
what?” I ask with a smile, kissing him again.

“I’m
serious, Kenleigh. If you keep doing that, I’m not going to be held responsible
for my actions.” A groan escapes him as my lips make their way down his neck
and then back up.

I
peck his lips one last time and lift off him completely. “You’re right. Now,
time to eat.” I pick up the beers and untwist the caps. As I hand his over to
him, I notice that he’s still trying to regain his composure. “Are you okay?” I
have to ask even though by the bulging veins in his neck and the red tint to
his skin, I know he’s not. Technically, I’m not okay either. I’m wound as tight
as a rubber band, too, but I’m gradually starting to unwind.