Page 11 of Come Back to Me

Sitting back, I gulp the rest of my beer. Satisfaction winds its way through my veins. I had no idea what to expect in Maple Ridge, Colorado, when I planned to stay for the summer. But this—Giana Russo—is a pleasant surprise.

And to think, I’d almost been dreading it. When my mama told me she and my dad were getting divorced and after the wedding, I should plan to stay in Maple Ridge until things between them cooled over, I was worried. But now, I think this summer in Maple is exactly what I need.

After finishing my mediocre burger and a full plate of greasy, delicious fries, Giana and I slip out of the bar and into the inky night holding hands. I mindlessly caress her fingers with my thumb as the alcohol continues to dull my anxiety over my touching her. I want to do so much more than touch her.

“Mind if we take the longer route back to the car? Give the alcohol a chance to work its way out of my system before driving you home.”

“There’s a park up ahead.” She gestures with her chin. “Just past the church.”

“Perfect.”

We walk down the sidewalk, the streetlamps and near full moon lighting our way. While the road remains busy with traffic, we don’t pass many people. It’s a weeknight, and I imagine most are home preparing for a workday.

“Are you embarrassed to introduce me to your parents?”

She stops abruptly. “What?”

I shrug it off. “I get it, I’m a cowboy. I talk funny. I’m not from around here.”

“No, that’s not it.” Giana starts walking again. “My parents…they’re different.”

“How so?”

“They’re not like Nettie’s parents. Or Pete’s. And probably not yours either.”

“Are you kidding? My parents aren’t perfect.”

“Yeah, right,” she mutters under her breath, her attention fixated on the sidewalk.

“You know why I came to Colorado without them? Becausethey’re getting divorced and needed to send someone to represent the family at the wedding.”

Her eyes lift and meet mine. There’s pain and sadness conveyed in them.

“I’m sorry.”

Hunching my shoulders, I disregard the pity.

“My parents don’t really care one way or another what I do. I think they changed when my dad got injured while working at the mill. My mama started caring for him instead of me.” She purses her lips. “I think they’ll be happy for me if I can buy the cabin and move out there. I know I’d be a lot happier.”

We reach the park, and Giana guides us to the swings. She releases my hand and sits down, gripping the chains as she pushes off the ground with her heels. I sit in the swing next to hers and watch her.

She looks youthful as she pumps herself higher. Her long, wavy hair flows behind her, and her smile grows. I’m mesmerized.

It’s impressive to witness someone so joyful knowing full well they’re dealing with hardships like she is. But she doesn’t let it get her down. She’s been holding onto her dreams, and not only does she not allow the misfortune to get in the way of them, but she also doesn’t use them as a crutch like so many people I know.

“How do you do that?” I ask her.

She slows her swing down and glances over at me. “Do what?”

“Pretend like everything around you isn’t going to shit?”

She shrugs. “Not everything’s going to shit.” Her gaze holds my eyes prisoner. It’s intense. It’s meaningful, and it draws me off my swing until I’m standing in front of her.

I grip the chains above her hands, and the swing comes to an abrupt stop. When she peers up at me, I can’t ignore the lustI find burning there. I slide my hands down until they cover hers and can hear her sharp intake of breath.

Lowering myself slightly, I lean forward and touch my mouth to her ear. “I can’t stop thinking about the kiss we shared in the cabin,” I whisper. “You sure we have to wait until after the wedding?”

When I straighten, I catch her biting her lip.

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