Country Girl at Heart

Chapter 9

Sneaking out of the house is hard enough, but sneaking out while trying to hide what you're wearing underneath a disguise... this shit should be an Olympic sport.
I stagger down the stairs, hiking up my sweats and pulling my jacket closed so Wren and Becky can't see the dress I have on. I'm sure they would question the overly sexy mini for what they think is going to be a casual dinner. Which, there will be a casual dinner, it's what usually happens after they aren't thinking about. That's the part I'm thinking about... a lot.
I pop my head around the corner and say a quick goodbye before anyone notices. The second I'm out the door the layers are stripped and boots are replaced with heels. Which I'll admit, is too much for dinner in a trailer, but I dress to impress when the occasion calls for it. And impressing Dawson is high up on the priority list tonight.
Following the directions Wren gave me, I head to the giant oak tree then find the trailer parked over a hill not far off. There are lights strung up from the roof to a few trees across the way, creating a cool iridescence. A fire pit, some lawn chairs, and a barbecue are situated in the center. The whole aesthetic is very rustic ranch chic. It makes me wonder how he has the inside set up.
As I get to the front door, I notice his shadow from out here. He's moving back and forth from one side to the other, stopping every now and again. Knowing he's so close and that we're about to spend the evening together alone, excites, but almost stuns me with apprehension. He's not like the guys I've been with before, and that's a great thing but also means I'm out of my comfort zone. His conversations are deep, and he's always a critical thinker.
     You can do this. Just be yourself.
     Don't panic.
     Don't panic.
     Don't panic.
He opens the door after I knock, taking a second to study my outfit. I do the same and sweep my attention over the long sleeve, navy blue button up. For once he doesn't have a hat on, leaving me to ogle at the messy style of his hair. It's gotten a tad longer since we met, sweeping just below his brow bone.
     We both clearly dressed to impress.
He whistles, then smiles that smile I've become gooey over. "I ain't never seen a dress like that."
I pop my hip and say, "That's right."
He waves me in, holding out his hand for me to balance with. "Welcome." He opens his arms out wide. "To my humble abode."
     "And humble it is." I look around, which only takes a few seconds, then set my pj disguise on the couch. "But cute... I kind of like it."
"You hate it," he laughs.
It must be the impossible-to-hide fake admiration on my face that gives me away. "Okay, I don't love it, but I don't hate it! It's just very... trailer-ey." There's nothing special about it but being in his space makes the atmosphere more intimate than I thought it would.
"Yeah? Just wait 'til I show you the 10 story sky rise and rooftop bar. You're gonna love that."
     "Ooo! In that case, I should've worn my bikini."
     "Then I wouldn't have been able to see this infamous dress'a yours."
     I step one leg in front of the other, even though they feel like jello, taunting him with my gaze. "And what do you think of said dress? Glad you figured out how to get me in it?" I rest my hands on his chest. "We'll have to see if you can get me out, too."
     A hand is wrapped around my waist while his other lifts my chin. He leans down and kisses me, but not like before. It's not as uncontrollable. It's like he's saying 'hi' after a long day of being away from each other. I have no problem saying 'hi' right back.
     A buzzer goes off from the stove, forcing us to stop. I decide right here and now that tonight will be ending with a lot more of that.
     "You going to get that?" I whisper.
     "As much as I don't want to stop, I don't think you want a burnt dinner," he says. "Take a seat."
     I make myself comfortable on one side of the fold out table, noticing the set up for the first time. There are place mats, which are checkered. Of course. Then plates, silver ware, and candles. This is all so Lady and The Tramp.
     Out of curiosity I ask, "Are you making spaghetti?"
     "No... why? Should I have?"
     "Just asking... this scene reminds me of Lady and The Tramp. It would have been a huge cliche if so."
     "What? You don't want to eat from one end of the noodle until we end up kissin'?"
     "I think we'll end up kissing either way."
     "I reckon that's true." He lifts a steaming pan and sets it down on what I assume is the kitchen counter. "But first, dinner."
"You haven't told me what we're having."
"New York style pizza." He carves into the pan. "I wanted to make you feel more at home."
     Any other day and I would have loved a reminder of home, but home reminds me of Mom. And I haven't been able to stop thinking about what Wren told me. "I love that you thought about me, but, thinking about home right now sucks."
     There's a twinge to his neck. "Since when do you pass up on an opportunity to talk about the city? I thought it was your favorite place in the world?" He slaps a piece of pizza on my plate.
     "No, not the city part of home... more so my mom." I notice the light roast of the crust and perfect melted cheese. "This looks amazing by the way."
     "Let's hope it tastes as good at it looks." He takes a seat, looking at me with a goofy grin.
     "What?"
     "Nothin'... You look beautiful is all. I'm glad you agreed to have dinner with me." He holds his pizza out infront of him.
     I lift and tap mine against his. "Cheers."
     "If you don't mind me askin', what did your mom do to upset you?"
     I bite the tip off with a quick chomp, taking my time to chew and think if I want to talk about this yet. I've processed it over and over all day, but usually when I do that I get too in my head and everything gets skewed. Dawson's perspective is always new and fresh, so maybe I should open up.
     "You don't have to tell me if you don't want to."
     I clear my throat before saying, "Last night... or I guess this morning, after you left, me and Wren talked for a while. He ended up telling me about how he and my mom met."
     "How'd that go?"
     "It was... eye opening." I take another bite. "Basically I realized she's the reason I've never had a relationship with him. Which, I obviously knew she was the one to leave and take me with her... but after hearing his side... I can't believe she thought it was okay to keep me from him."
     "Wow." His chewing slows down. "That's pretty heavy. You okay?"
     "Yes. No," I sigh, "I don't know. But I do feel like she robbed my life of something I didn't know I needed until today."
     "Have you talked to her about it?"
     "Yeah right. She would have a conniption. And I mean full on mom attack mode, which is not something you want to see."
     "If it's anythin' like my mama's, then no I don't." He chuckles into a bite. "At least you got to talk to your dad."
"Yeah... I took your advice and decided to get to know the new him."
     "What do you think so far?"
"I think... I like where it's headed."
     He grins with accomplishment. "Just one more reason for you to stay at the end of this," he says in a joking manner. I think.
"I'm not sure it's enough to stay but I'll keep in touch. We have a lot to make up for."
"Thats a big difference from what you were tellin' me when you first got here."
"I have a lot of different opinions now."
He nods slowly. "What are your plans for when you get back? Are you going to school?"
"I still have senior year, so unfortunately, yeah."
"Oh, I thought you graduated. How old are you?"
"Seventeen." The way he looks caught off guard makes me ask, "Is that bad?"
     "I just figured, since you act so much older..."
     "I get that a lot."
     "Must be a city thang."
     "I mean from what I've seen so far, must be. How old are you?" I figured we were the same age but guess not.
"I'll be nineteen in a few months."
     "Dang, so what are your plans?"
     "Honestly? I'll keep workin' the ranch. I'd like to keep helpin' your dad out and save up until I can buy my own land. Build it from scratch, get some animals... eventually settle down with a wife and have a few kids. Nothin' crazy."
"Wow, you sound like you've thought this out for awhile."
He shrugs. "I'm the only person in control of my future, if I don't have a plan, I won't accomplish anythin' I want to."
"You make me feel very underprepared." I half laugh, finishing off my piece.
"Eh, you got time. Plenty of it to spend usin' up that fake ID and going to all the pool parties," he winks.
"Exactly." I laugh at my priorities. "Have you ever thought about leaving Vernon? Or are you pretty set on staying?"
"Never. There ain't nothin' better than small town life. There's a sense of community here you can't get when passin' hundreds of thousands of strangers every day. Everyone here knows what it takes to survive. We rely on each other's business and hard work to keep afloat."
"But that's just to keep afloat. You don't want to make more money? Be able to afford nice things?"
"Who says this isn't nice?"
"It's not not nice. There's just so much more out there."
"This is all I need. Land, work, animals... a family."
"I wish I could be as simple as you."
"You can be, ya know? You have a choice."
"Even if I wanted to stay, my mom would freak out. I'm still a minor, remember? I don't have any control over my life yet. Hence why I'm here."
"Serving out that prison sentence of yours?" He chuckles. "Tell me somethin'... What do you see yourself doin' with your life. What's Lexi's plan?"
     "I don't really have a plan. Not near as thought out as yours at least."
"You don't have to figure it out yet, taking life slow is good too. You can live more in the moment that way."
"Yeah, I guess. My mom always gets on me to start applying to colleges and figure out what I want my career to be but I don't know if I want to go to college."
"So you know more of what you don't wanna do, then?"
I laugh. "That makes me sound so negative but, I guess I could come up with more things I don't want to do, yeah."
"That list is just as important as the other. What do you not want to do? Besides no school?"
"Hm... I don't want to get stuck with a nine to five sitting in an office chair like just about everyone else in NYC. I dont want to settle for some guy I meet on a roof top bar who ends up not being the most epic love of my life. I don't want to end up like my mom, who married an attorney she never spends time with, eats dinner in front of the tv, and has too many opinions about her daughters decisions." I take a deep breath. "And I don't want to look back on my life and regret everything I decided to do."
"Wow. See, you do have some things thought out. Most people are afraid they're going to regret what they didn't do, but you." He leans forward, brushing his fingers along my bare leg. "You're afraid of living more than not."
It's not cold in here, but you'd think I was freezing due to the amount of goosebumps that rise uncontrollably when he touches me. It's hard to concentrate on my answer with his fingers stroking me like this. "I'm not afraid to live, I just don't want to make the wrong life choices. Doesn't it scare you that you'll never see anything other than corn fields your whole life? Or that you're choosing a certain career path because you were born into it? It doesn't terrify you that the gene pool here is limited and you are way too freaking hot to marry a Lyla or Jessica or Alabama?"
     "Like I said, I'm a simple man." His grin rises nonstop. "But if you look at it this way, you'll get to leave here and live out the rest of your life knowin' you're the most vivacious, incredibly outspoken, gorgeous girl I'll probably ever be with."
     His sentence insinuates so much. I know exactly where this is going and I thought I was prepared but for some reason my heart is beating faster and I'm obsessively aware of the gradual rise of his hand on my thigh. He's clearly coming onto me, which means this is about the time I make a move, but I'm frozen with nerves. My usual composure melts underneath the burn of his fingers.
     I clear my throat, then with a faltering tone say, "I swear I'm usually a lot better at this."
     "At takin' a compliment?"
"Not exactly. I've just never been this nervous before..."
His hand is hesitant now, hovering above my skin. "Nervous in a bad way?"
I shake my head. "No. In a really good, sort of terrifying way."
     He chuckles. "That makes two of us."
     The confidence radiating from him says otherwise, making me scoff at my obvious tightness. "You're hiding it a lot better than I am."
     He stands up. "I have an idea." A few minutes later an old fashion radio is set on the counter. "I found this thing when I first got here, never thought I'd use it but it's worth a try."
     I watch him mess with the nobs while different tones of static come through the speakers. I wonder what he thinks this is going to do? After a few minutes of nothing, I say, "I don't think it's going to work."
     "Have patience." He smiles at me. We'll find somethin'."
      "What happens if we do?"
      "When we do, we'll-" A country tune suddenly plays, and we lock eyes. "See." He shifts the volume to a comfortable background noise, then walks toward me with a sheepish gleam in his eye. "Dance with me?"
     I stare at the outstretched hand, starstruck by his gesture. Although this isn't the ideal situation: to be slow dancing as we're in a trailer with minimal space and only have a beat up old speaker for music. Not to mention the cheesy romantic country song. But I push away all my inherent judgments and take his hand.
     He loops his fingers through mine, and we slowly find the correct position. Our body's mesh together instantaneously; torso to torso, hip to hip, arm to arm... my head to his chest. We sway to the melancholy beat, which isn't bothering me so much now. It's actually kind of nice. All of this is nice. Dressing up, dinner, real talks, dancing? It's like I'm right back home except there's a country twist to it.
     And here I was, thinking this life wouldn't be acceptable. This life would be a hell of a lot simpler, like Dawson said. The country side sounds more appealing than ever. It's like my brain is slowly rewiring itself to appreciate the little things about being here. One of those little things being the subtle musky man scent coming from the cowboy I'm dancing with. I think I might just burst right here and now. 
     I pull back to look up at him. "This dancing thing was a good idea."
     "I figured I needed to loosen ya up some, seein' as I make you so nervous and all."
     Usually I would fire away with some sort of come back or cute but snarky remark, but I don't want to ruin the mood. Instead I say, "If you thought I was nervous then... you'd think I was losing my mind now."
     "What do you mean?"
     "Here." I take his hand and place it over my heart. "Feel that?" I don't know why I did this to myself. Now I'm practically overheating as the warmth from his tough skin seeps into me.
"It's like a humming bird," he whispers.
His comparison is spot on. And I love that he just thought of a hummingbird of all things. The inner workings of his mind continue to mesmerize me.
"Your skin is so soft compared to mine." His fingers trace along my exposed collarbone.
I swallow a deep breath, trying to form words. "Yeah well... that's how it should be... you're the hard working boy and I'm the girl who brings the sandwich's, remember?"
He grins, but keeps his gaze following along where his fingers decide to brush next. "Don't worry, my hands are the only rough part about me."
"I hope not," I whisper.
His eyes dart to mine, fidgeting back and forth from my mouth. Now it feels like he's the nervous one. I realize my timidness is probably throwing him off, making him hesitant to continue the night.
"Dawson?"
"Yeah?"
"It's okay to kiss me."
     He doesn't move in as immediately as I expect, at least not in the way I thought he would. With his lips not smashing into mine yet, he somehow brings me closer into his grasp. My face is taken in his hands and tilted up high enough to look straight into his eyes. Into those baby blues. I want to be closer, so I slide my hands up his back and pull myself against him.  The intimate energy is like static in the air, charging the electricity flowing between us. As he leans in ever so slow, adrenaline pumps through me like never before.
     He takes a deep breath, letting out his next words with a heavy, seductive tone. "I'd really like to kiss you. But first, I gotta get you outta this dress."
     A part of me is longing for him to just kiss me already but the anticipation only makes me crave it more. Experience starts to eat away at my momentary lapse of confidence, draining every uncertainty and filling me with more drive.
     Spotting the bed not far behind him, I step over, trailing my fingers along his until I'm sitting. I lean down to unstrap my heels, but he is below me and doing the job himself within seconds. He takes his time. When he's done, I stand up and turn around, pulling my hair over one shoulder so he can easily access the zipper, continuing what we had to stop last time we found ourselves in this position.
     I practically rip the dress off myself when he kisses my shoulder, and my neck, and my back. That's how bad I want to be with him. I've never had to wait this long when being interested in a guy... it's normally a one and done situation, hit it and quit it, too drunk to remember type of deal. This take our time drawing out the lust we've been doing is somehow so much better.
Black silk pools around my ankles and I face him. His cheeks are flushed under freckled skin. His eyes are stirring with wonder and his obvious attraction to what he sees turns me on. He's actually looking at me, taking in every inch, instead of rushing to feel it all up. It's the last boost of assurance I need to perk back into who Lexi Hunter is at her core.
A ball of spit fire.
"Now what?" I egg him on.
"Now, I need you to lay back." Happy he took the bait, I surrender to his mouth as it takes control of mine. His hands explore my body, dipping into every crease and over all my curves. I unbutton his flannel until I get as far down as I can. He pulls back to finish taking it off, then grabs my hips and pulls me to the edge of the bed. He bends down, starting to kiss a trail down my stomach, all the way until he licks me over my underwear.
     My hands grasp at the sheets and my back lifts slightly. That was overwhelming. Especially watching him do it. He kisses onto my inner thighs, taunting me.
     At one point he looks up and I can tell he's asking permission to take my underwear off, especially with his fingers already pulling at the lace.
     "Keep going," I say with barely any breath.
     He grins and slides the material off. "Yes, ma'am."