Page 11 of Back in the Country
“Fine. Fit me in when you can.” She points the dough-covered spoon at me. “Iwillpay you.”
It’s my turn to snort. “No the hell you won’t.”
“That’s your business, Mar.”
“Yes, and you’re my family. I have enough clients to pay the bills. You, my love, are my passion project.”
“I’m payin’ you,” she grumbles.
“Fine. You can pay me in pastries.”
“Deal.” She shakes her head at my smugness, and despite her mild resistance, I know she’s excited. Even after I graduated from college, everyone was still reluctant to ask me for help if they ever asked me at all.
I love my job. Designing and updating websites, creating and improving social media presences, and getting all those creative juices flowing is my jam. Now that I have Rhea’s approval, I’ll be able to pick off the rest of her siblings and strong-arm them into letting me help.
The knowledge that I’ve gained working at Wentworth & Hayes has been priceless. My boss, Robin, has been a mentor and a friend since the moment I signed on with them officially almost two years ago. I’d interned at the firm in different departments throughout college, so the transition was easy.
As much as I love my job—and I do—my dream has always been to start my own company. With all the changes happening now, it’s something I’m determined to explore.
Rhea and I chat for a little longer about her shop and what she’d like to focus on. We also talk about Waylon and how I think tonight will go, but we don’t talk about Sorren.
I’m grateful, and I push away all the guilt because tonight is the first night of the rest of our lives.
WAYLON
THREE YEARS AGO
The seductive sound of Rihanna’s voice singing “Love on the Brain” fills the car speakers. Even with the windows down and the wind whipping around us, I can’t help but feel every note—every raspy word.
My heart is pounding in my chest and the anticipation of…something…is enough to put my heart into cardiac arrest. Marlee turned twenty-one a few weeks ago, but this is the first time she’s been able to get home to celebrate with the family. Mama fawned all over her at dinner, and then after we’d eaten cake, she asked me to take a drive.
We’ve been cruisin’ through the backroads of Clementine Creek for close to an hour, and I’m still not anywhere close to calm. In reality, nothing about tonight is any different from any other time we’ve done this. We’d take turns driving, listening to music—it’s always been our thing. Even before she learned how to drive, we’d done this.
She’s always loved spending nights like this. She says she feels free with the wind in her face and music in her soul, like this grounds her in a way nothing else can.
Sometimes we talk, but other times, like tonight, we are quiet. My fingers tap out the rhythm on my thigh as she drives. I don’t feel relaxed tonight—not even a little.
“Way?” I turn to look at her, her voice like a siren’s song. We are stopped at a stop sign at the edge of town without another car in sight.
“Yeah, baby?”
“I’m ready.”
Her voice is quiet but confident. I nod and then look back out my window. There is nothing else to say. I’d made her a promise when she was eighteen that if she still wanted me to have her virginity when she turned twenty-one, I would do it.
They’ve been the longest and shortest years of my life.
The car eases slowly across the intersection in the direction of my trailer. No other words are exchanged, but the tension in the car feels suffocating.
As we pull onto our road, I swallow hard. “Baby, are we doing this? Is this what you want?”
She nods.
“You know the rules? One night, Marlee.”
She nods again and meets my gaze. I rarely use her name. To me she’d always be Baby Girl, or baby if the occasion calls for it.
Pulling up to my trailer, Marlee puts the car in park and turns the ignition off. I’ve been sweating bullets with my heart in my throat since she uttered the words,I’m ready.
