Page 5 of Taurus

My mouth, my voice, nearly react all on their own. Yes, I’d love to, almost slips by my lips, but our history stops me because I know what will happen. We’ve always felt kismet, Austin and me, and that will only end in hurt, anger, and sadness for both of us.

“No, that’s okay. I have some calls to make and I am meeting with Mr. Lawson soon.” I clear my throat and cross my arms over my chest.

“All right then.” He pats the chicken on the head again. “Let’s go have some breakfast, Marjorie.”

Austin

I busy myself most of the morning with my usual tasks. I walk the rows of vines slowly, checking for anything that needs to be pruned, picking up any grape berries that have fallen to the ground and started to wither away, and looking for any other issues that could pose a problem in the near future.

The summer heat hasn’t started to rise over us just yet. That will come this afternoon, when the sun is at its highest, so I’m enjoying the small reprieve of a cool breeze on my overly heated skin from working outside yesterday.

I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t disappointed Parker refused my offer of coming out here with me this morning, but I can’t say I’m surprised. She holds a grudge like no one I’ve ever met in my life, especially when she feels she was wronged or betrayed.

And I’m public enemy number one on the betrayal list, at least, that’s what she keeps telling herself, even though it’s not fucking true.

Parker and I were on a roller coaster from the moment we met as kids. I was older at eighteen, forbidden in a way, and she was this firecracker of a sixteen-year-old who caught my eye immediately.

She was so beautiful and full of life, sitting on the front porch of the main house, in a rocking chair with her long, tanned legs up on the railing, with a book perched on her thighs, reading along silently. I was stopped in my tracks by her. She caught me looking and I can still hear her voice clear as day, like it happened yesterday.

“Hey, why are you just staring at me like that?”

It takes me an embarrassingly long time to register that she’s talking to me.

“Huh?” I respond like a fucking doof.

“You. You’re staring at me.” She pushes her sunglasses on top of her head. “I was just wondering why? Do I have something on my face or in my hair?”

“No.” I shake my head, trying my best to play this as smoothly as possible so she doesn’t think I was ogling like a creep. “I was actually wondering which book you’re reading.” I pull my hat off and slide my hand through my sweaty hair. Smooth. Real smooth.

“You want to know what I’m reading? Really?”

“Yes,” I say, not technically lying. I don’t care what the book is but if it keeps her talking to me, I’ll gladly talk about it. She holds up the cover and I lean in a bit to read it. It’s a bit tattered and well loved. “Jane Eyre?”

“Jane Eyre.” She places the book on the rail and stands. “I’m reading it for English class, but it’s really good so far.” Fuck. She’s younger than me.

“I had to read it too, when I was in high school, I mean.”

“You did?” What did you think about it?”

“I gotta be honest with you, darlin’, I didn’t really pay attention. It’s hard for books like that to hold my attention.” I grip the back of my neck, tilting my head. “I thought it was boring.”

“Boring? That’s a harsh thing to say. It’s a classic. Don’t call the story boring just because it’s too elevated for you to understand.”

I can’t help but laugh with a shake of my head, “Did you just call me stupid, but in a very Southern, proper way?”

“Me?” She places her hand on her chest. “I’d never do that.” A smile appears on her face that could start and end wars all at once. “Are you here to talk to my grandpa about the job?” she asks, crossing her arms over her chest.

“I am. He asked me to stop by so we could talk in person.”

“He’s out back with a tour right now. He should be back around soon. You’re more than welcome to wait on the porch.” She motions to the swing that is hanging from the wooden beams on the far end of the porch, just a few feet from her. “He’s a bit long-winded when it comes to talking about all of this stuff. He’s just a little late.”

“Sure, thanks,” I reply and head over to the porch swing. When I have to turn to my side to slide by her, I’m close enough to get a whiff of her perfume. It’s sweet, like a dessert.

“Do you mind if I keep reading my book or do you need me to entertain you while you wait?” she asks with a smile.

“Who knows… watching you read could be entertaining enough.”

“What’s your name?” she asks with a tilt of her head.

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