Serenity Falls (5 page)

I
check myself over one last time in the full-length mirror in my room. Wes asked
me to be ready by eight thirty. I’ve tried really hard to forget his comment
outside, but it’s hopeless. All I can think about is how close those plump,
kissable lips were to mine. I’d kissed Jarred a lot, but never before have I
wanted so badly for someone to kiss me. I’m in uncharted territories here. All
my life, I’ve prided myself for not being ‘that girl’, you know the one who
throws herself at any guys feet, but I can’t deny the attraction I have toward
Wes either.

My
cream-colored, strapless, lace dress rests right above my knees, making my deep
tan seem darker. The long, brown hair I inherited from my mother hangs loosely
down my back, meeting the top of my dress. Black eyeliner and mascara make my
bright, blue eyes identical to my father’s pop. Rummaging through my bag, I
pull out dark brown leather boots that I’ve worn more times than I count. When
I slip them on, I find the comfort that my feet have cried for all day. After
driving in flip-flops, and then hanging out with Wes in the barn for three
hours, my feet have been dying for some cushion.

I
stand and smooth my dress down one more time as a knock sounds on my door.
“Hang on,” I say to the person on the other side of it.

After
grabbing my clutch off the nightstand, I open the door and gasp.
Well,
hello, Mr. Wesley Adams.
My eyes slowly travel up the dark denim jeans that
hug his powerful thighs in all the right places. A black, button-up shirt hangs
open, revealing a grey undershirt that strains against his taut chest. The
sleeves, rolled up to his elbows, expose roped muscles that travel the lengths
of his forearms. His blond hair has that I-can’t-resist-you look. You know the
look; the one where it seems that he’s run his fingers through it, which makes
me want to do the same. His eyes, the gorgeous, Caribbean blue that I first
found stunning, now radiate something else entirely. I know I should say
something, but I’m speechless.

Closing
the distance between us, he leans down next to my ear and asks, “Why are you
staring at me like that.” By the gruffness in his tone, I don’t think he minds
that he caught me staring at him.

I
refuse to feed his ego. He knows he looks good. Shit, even a blind person could
describe the perfection that’s standing before me, so I choose my words
carefully. “You clean up nice.” It’s all I’m going to say. He’s already caught
me molesting him with my eyes.

A
chuckle escapes him at my response.

“Well,
I’d say the same, but nice wouldn’t be the word that I would use. I’d use gorgeous,
stunning, captivating… sexy,” he replies with a cavalier smile.

“Aww…
I’m sure you tell all the girls that. You ready to go?” I ask, laughing at his
flirty ways.

“After
you.” He waves his hand out in front for me to lead the way. Just as I pass by
him, his hand catches my elbow, stopping me. “And just so you know, I don’t say
that to all the girls. Just some.”

“At
least you’re honest. I’ll give you that much,” I reply as he releases my arm.
“Is Brantley going to meet us there or here?”

“There.
He said he needed to take a shower and pick up some stuff, so I thought we
could ride together.”

“That
sounds good. Wanna take my Jeep?”

“Hell,
yeah! Don’t get me wrong. I love my truck, but I’ve been eyeing your Jeep since
I first saw it,” he says coyly.

“Ha!
I knew it,” I shout. Earlier, I thought I saw him looking at my Jeep as if he
couldn’t wait to get his hands on it. Then I took a look at his black Ford
F-250 on a lift kit, and figured I was wrong.

“Oh,
yeah? Well, don’t think I didn’t catch you eyeing my truck. Admit it. You wanna
drive it just as bad as I wanna drive your Jeep,” he counters, laughing at my
shocked expression.

I
give him a curt nod, turning away from him. “Touché, Mr. Adams, touché.” 

After
driving down numerous dirt roads, the bonfire finally comes into view. Flames
dance, swaying left and right, in the hot, Texas summer night. The sound of
people laughing and singing mixes with the crackling of the fire as Randy
Houser’s
Runnin’ Outta Moonlight
blares in the background. The soft
orange glow of the fire illuminates the shadows as people dance in front of it.
As we park, Wes looks at me, wiggling his eyebrows. “Let’s have some fun.”

With
a wide smile, I nod. Adrenaline pumps through my veins as I take in the party.
I may not be a big drinker, but I do love to dance.

The
sounds of
Boys Round Here
by Blake Shelton blares from somewhere off in
the distance. I crane my neck to look out the top of my Jeep, and then stand on
the seat to see who it is. A wide smile reaches from ear to ear, and I start
laughing.
Figures
. It’s something Brantley would jam to at a deafening
level. His tires pick up dirt and rocks, kicking them back behind his truck,
making it look like an Arizona dust storm.

The
back of his truck fishtails when he comes to a screeching halt, and the smell
of burnt rubber wafts through the air. “The party is here y’all!” Brantley
shouts, hopping out of his truck and running around the front to meet us at the
Jeep. “You ready to party, Kenleigh?” he asks, rubbing his hands together as if
he has some kind of plan.

“You
know, this isn’t my first bonfire, Brantley,” I say through a chuckle.

“Maybe
not, but it’s your first one here. So, get your pretty little ass out of that
Jeep, and let’s get you a drink,” he says, nodding toward the party.

“Brant,
man, ease up on her, will ya? We’ll be here a while. I’m sure it’s more than
enough time to try and get her drunk,” Wes intervenes, laughing at our friend.

“Yeah.
Whatever. Look, since y’all are still sitting in the Jeep, I’m gonna go ahead
and get a drink,” Brantley says, walking off. Looking back over his shoulder as
he jogs toward the party, he shouts, “I’ll catch y’all later?”

As
we climb out of the Jeep, someone yells in our direction, walking, or
swaying–however you want to look at it—past Brantley. “No! Fucking! Way! Wes,
man, how the fuck have you been?” The guy is a solid four inches shorter than
Wes, and not nearly as built, but that’s all I can make out in the dim
lighting.

“Hey,
Reid. I’ve been good,” Wes answers.

“It
looks like it.” Reid’s eyes roam up and down my body before he thrusts his hand
out to me; I skeptically take it in mine. “Hey, there. I’m Reid, since he seems
to have forgotten his manners. I’m this fucker’s closest friend. Well, until he
moved away, that is.”

“I
didn’t forget to introduce you, dick. You didn’t give me a chance to,” Wes
interjects laughing. “This is Kenleigh.”

“I
like it. I’ve never heard that name before.”

“Thank
you,” I reply, pulling my hand from his grasp.

“Well,
the party is over there, y’all.” Reid points in the direction of the fire, as
if we can’t see that for ourselves. “The keg and cups are over by Leslie’s
truck, so help yourselves.” He turns his attention back to Wes and me. “Later?”

“Later,”
Wes replies with a nod.

Just
as Reid turns around, sauntering back towards the crowd of people, he yells,
“Y’all won’t believe who the fuck is here!?”

I
watch as Reid stumbles his way back over to the party, but when Wes wraps his
hand around mine, my attention shifts to him. His hand is calloused, strong,
and warm—nice. My dad always taught me that calluses on a man’s hands prove
that he works hard for a living. I notice how well my hand fits in his as I
look down at our joined hands. Lifting my head to meet his stare, he whispers
in my ear. “Stay by my side, okay?”

“All
right,” I reply breathlessly. Maybe I shouldn’t drink tonight, because his
proximity alone leaves me already feeling intoxicated. With a tug on my hand,
he leads me towards the amber colored flames of the bonfire.

The
stifling heat of the fire reaches about ten feet away from it. As we make our
way closer, I hear a chorus of people chanting, “Hey Wes!” He just waves and
nods his hellos. It’s funny, but he seemed much more vocal back at the house.

I
squeeze his hand to get his attention. When he looks down at me, I ask, “I
thought you knew all of these people?”

“I
do. Most of ‘em anyway. Why?” he asks with a perplexed look.

“I
don’t know. I just figured with them being friends of yours that you’d be
stopping every five seconds to say hi to someone.”

“I
thought we’d get a drink before I’m swallowed up by conversation about high
school, football, and what all I’ve been up to since I moved to Dallas.”

Thank
God, he can’t see the blush on my face because I feel like an idiot. “Oh.”
There’s not much else I can say. I think I’ve inserted my foot into my mouth
far enough. Here I thought he was being rude, but he just wanted to get a
drink.

“How
about that drink now?” he asks, with a smile.

“Sounds
great.”

“Do
you want a beer or a mixed drink?”

“I’ll
take a beer. I don’t really drink liquor, unless you want to babysit me all
night long, which I’m pretty sure you don’t.”

“I
don’t think I’d mind babysitting you,” he replies with a cocky smile.

I’m
not going to reply to that, so instead, I give him a pointed look, which I’m
sure is hard to see in the dark.

He
obviously caught my expression because he laughs. “Right. Now let’s get you a
beer.”

Wes
lets go of my hand, leaving it cold and lonely, to get us each a beer. I lean
back against the tailgate of someone’s truck while Wes pours our drinks. I look
around, taking in all the people around me. To my left, the sound of rushing
water lets me know that there’s a creek nearby. To my right, a group of guys
stands in a circle, holding red solo cups, and laughing loudly. Straight ahead
is a cluster of guys and girls, some embracing each other, while they all
converse. Another bunch stands around the fire, dancing to Florida Georgia
Line’s
Round Here.

“Here
you go.” I hear Wes say in my ear as he hands me my cup.

“Thanks.”
I smile up at him before I take a drink.

Just
as I’m about to say something, a blonde with really large breasts, and a
way-too-tight outfit pounces on Wes, wrapping her arms around his neck. Her
drink spills over the edge her cup and splashes onto the ground. “Oh my God! I
can’t believe you’re back in town,” she slurs. “I knew you’d come back to see
me. It’s been too long, Wes. Riley said I was crazy to sit here and wait for
you, but I knew once you got that whole bull riding thing out of your system,
you’d come back.”

I
watch as the scene unfolds around me. I know that I have no claim to him, but
hasn’t she noticed that someone else is sitting here? “Hey, Les. I’m not back
for good. Just for the summer,” he replies, not showing her the same type of
affection she is showing him.

I
watch in disgust as she nuzzles his neck, trying to elicit some kind of
response from him. “So, you’re going back to Dallas?”

“Yep.”

“Hey,
I’m going to see, uh… if I can… find Brantley,” I tell Wes, pushing away from
the truck.

He
turns his head, looking at me, as if he just remembered that I’m here. “Wait,
I’ll go with you.”

“It’s
fine. You seem to have your hands full anyway,” I reply, shaking my head.

“Who
the fuck are you?” Leslie sneers. Drunk
and
rude. This should be great.

“Nobody.”
I roll my eyes and turn away from what I’m sure could easily become a
confrontation.

I
can hear Wes yell for me to wait up, but I act as if I don’t hear him and
venture off in search of Brantley. Pushing my way through the throngs of
people, I finally find him after a couple of minutes, but not the way I expect
to. He dances shamelessly with a petite, red head. One of his hands roams down
her ribs, grips her hip, and pulls her into him, while the other hand holds a
cup. They are clueless to the people around them. I don’t want to interrupt, so
I turn around and make my way over to the creek.