Page 16 of Something More

“Mmm hmm.” He nodded. “Shh! It’s starting.” He pointed at the TV.

I whispered, “Sorry,” and grabbed a handful of popcorn. Just like Codie had predicted, Jake fell asleep halfway through the movie. He was slumped between us, and his head rested on her shoulder. We watched the remainder of the movie, each of us glancing at Jack every few minutes. When the credits rolled, Codie extracted the popcorn bowl from his hands, and I lifted him in my arms and carried him to his bed. I knew he was probably too old for that, but it wasn’t that big of a deal to me. The hay bales I throw each day made Jack feel weightless.

“Thanks for that.” Codie was putting things away in the kitchen. She’d already folded the blankets we’d had out and straightened up the family room.

“It’s no problem. Next time, I’ll wear jammies.” I pointed to her Snoopy PJ pants.

“Next time?” She eyed me as if I’d overstepped.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean that.” I released a frustrated breath. I stood there watching her move about the kitchen as if we hadn’t just sat three feet from each other for several hours and both felt the tension in the air. “Can we talk for a minute?” I crossed my arms over my chest and leaned against the counter. She didn’t look up or stop moving. “Please?” I reached out and wrapped my fingers around her wrist. She froze, looked away from me, and then gave in and nodded.

“Let’s go out back.” I motioned to the small back porch. She laid down the dish rag she was wiping the counter with and I let her go in front of me. She paused at the back door to listen; I’m guessing to make sure Jack was still asleep and then opened it to step outside.

I paced over the bricks, trying to form complete thoughts in my head. There was so much I wanted to know, but the last time we talked I sent her running. “What is it you want to talk about?” She sat down on the rocking chair in the corner.

“Us.” I swallowed. That was the simplest way to put it.

“There is no ‘us’.” She stood back up and crossed her arms.

“We might not be together, but there is always gonna be an us, Codie.” My voice dropped; this was so much harder than I thought it would be. “Why did you leave?” I leaned against the house and stared at her. Her blonde hair was hanging down her back in loose waves, her skin was tanned, and she looked the same as the day she left, only now she had a few more lines on her face. Her figure had filled out, so she was now more woman and less girl. “I think you owe me that much. Answer me this: was it your choice?”

“That’s not fair!” She scowled. “You knew how hard it was for me.” She turned away and faced the trees.

“I did know what staying meant, but I also thought that you loved me. I thought this meant something.” I marched over, standing right behind her and stuck my forearm out, revealing the tattoo. The moonlight caused my skin to glow, and I heard her gasp. “That’s right. I still have it. I ask myself why all the time, but I can’t erase you.” I was trying with all my might to hold onto my temper. I needed her to talk to me, not run again.

“If I stayed, I wouldn’t have had the chance to run this place. Daddy told me it was the farm, or you. He wanted to me to go to college and make something of myself. He wanted me to live outside the fence here and see the world.” A single tear made its way down her cheek, and she swiped it away. “I wasn’t trying to hurt you,” she murmured.

“You thought leaving with no explanation, no phone call or letters, no contact whatsoever would be better? Do you have any idea what I went through? I almost ruined my life for you. Iloved you. I wanted to marry you. I was ready to walk away from this place and try to go at it on my own, for you!” I grabbed her shoulders and turned her to face me.

“I’m sorry.” She sniffed.

“Sorry? You were an adult. Instead of standing up for what you wanted, you let them all tell you what to do.” I flung my arms up in the air. “I spent weeks drinking myself into oblivion, asking myself what I did to make you leave. Then I find out that you married a guy you only knew for six months.”

“I don’t know what you want me to say.” She peered up at me. Pain reflected in her eyes as she watched me. I was angry, hurt, but most of all disappointed that she didn’t stand up to them.

“It’s doesn’t matter now. It’s too late.” My shoulders dropped as the tension began to leave my body. I’d waited so long for her to admit to this, and now I felt like I didn’t have it in me to argue my point.

“Too late for what?” She rubbed her arms to ward off the chill in the air.

“Too late for us. I see the way you look at me. I see the way you hold yourself back. You won’t give yourself permission to feel what you used to. I don’t know if it’s fear, or loyalty, or your dad again. I just know that all of it is still there, but you stifle it.” I moved so close to her we were almost touching. Her breath hitched and she fisted her hands at her sides.

“Do you?” She looked up at me, blinking her tear-filled eyes.

“Do I what?” The moonlight caused a shadow to fall over us as the trees blew in the night breeze.

“Still feel it?” she whispered.

“Yes,” I growled as I stepped closer, cupped her jaw with both hands, and pressed my lips to hers. She melted into mychest, and I wrapped her in my arms, taking back all the kisses I’d missed over the years. I needed her to let go and feel again.

Chapter 9

Dakota

The spark that I’d been dousing with cold water roared to life. It started like a small ember, warming me slowly on the inside. It flickered into a flame that craved the fuel our kiss was giving it. Heat crawled over every inch of skin in remembrance of what I used to feel for him. He tilted his head as he licked at the seam of my lips. My arms moved to wrap around his neck, fisting the hair at the nape of his neck. He grunted when I tugged at it, and then in the blink of an eye he stepped back, breaking all contact.

“Fuck!” he hissed and then growled as he ran his hands through his hair. He leaned against the railing of the porch, and then pounded it with his fists.

Tears rushed to the surface, and then anger. “What was that?” I gasped.

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