Page 17 of Home in the Country
Everett Teal grumbles his agreement and gives me a wave while I’m momentarily stunned by everything happening around me.
“Hayden, hi, how are you?” I manage on a laugh.
“I’m good, darlin’. Just workin’ as a nurse over at the hospital here and still roommates with that big lug.” He hitches his thumb at Everett, and I laugh at the eye roll and wink I receive from said roommate.
“That sounds amazing.”
“Save him a dance, wouldya? He’s insufferable today.” His eyes gleam with mischief. “And tell me, how are you?”
“I’m happy to be back and excited to give my son the kind of childhood I had livin’ here.”
Hayden takes my left hand and turns it over, revealing no ring on my hand.
“Divorced,” I sigh and answer without him having to voice the question.
While I know that getting divorced from Tanner was the right thing to do, it still does something to me every time I think about bein’ twenty-six and a divorced single mom.
“Well darlin’, you let Uncle Hayden know if you ever need a babysitter. I love kids, and I make a mean batch of boxed brownies.” He winks, and I hug him tighter than either of us expects, forcing me to swallow down the emotion bubbling up inside me.
“Oh! Everett! Here!”
Before I know what’s going on, and apparently sensing I need an outlet, Hayden shoves me at Everett and I land against his chest with anoomph.
The band plays the opening chords of “Long Hot Summer Day” by Turnpike Troubadours.
“Do you wanna dance?” Everett asks with a shy smile.
“Sure.” My soft laugh floats between us as we pick a spot, and I let him lead me along with the music.
I forgot how much I missed this, and when Everett spins me out, I’m filled with joy as the world revolves around me before being tucked against his strong body once again.
He’s handsome and no longer a boy like I remembered, with his casually messy dark hair and stubble. He’s lean and muscled with tattoos covering his forearms—he’s definitely a type, but unfortunately he isn’t mine.
“Mind if I cut in?” Otto’s voice is frosty at best, and Everett looks between him and me before releasing my hand.
In a low voice, Everett looks me dead in the eye and says, “You holler.”
I nod as Otto turns us away from the group as the band starts playing, “How Do You Like Me Now” by Toby Keith, and the irony is not lost on me.
It’s the first time I’ve seen him since he fixed my tire in the rain, but the memory of him is nothing compared to the man holding me in his arms.
Gulping as the tempo picks up, Otto spins me out fast before possessively pulling me back against him. His movements are intentional and precise, and I do my best to keep up. An angry intensity vibrates off him, and it has my heart absolutely racing in my chest.
I want him.
Even with him fuming at me, I want this man. His dark hair is more disheveled than I remember, but where Everett’s is possibly deliberate, Otto’s is obviously from runnin’ his hand through it.
Maybe I’m crazy, but he makes me feel soalive.
The song ends and I’m jolted from his embrace as he pushes past me without a word.
“Otto, wait!” I call after him but he doesn’t stop. “Dammit, Otto, will you stop?”
He turns so fast I stumble back to avoid slamming into his chest—even if it is a very nice chest.
“What could youpossiblywant from me?”
“I want to have sex,” I blurt out because, while the words are honest, I’d like to think I havesomefinesse.
