A Risk Worth Taking (9 page)

Ford

“People need to pursue passion
and happiness more instead of settling for whatever life picture they’re taught
to want.” –Ford O’Neal

Now I
understood why grown men wrote poetry and serenaded outside windows. Summer
Stafford’s mouth was fucking inspiring. No matter what she said next, there was
no way I wasn’t doing that again. Whatever argument or “this is the sensible
thing to do” speech she tried to give me, I would change her mind. I had just
over four months left to do it. I planned on kissing her for the majority of
that time.

And
a dirt bike ride? Genius. Casey definitely had his moments. I thought steam was
going to shoot out of Summer’s ears when he told her to ride with me. And then
again when he disappeared into the woods. But she’d rolled with it. She seemed
genuinely torn between wanting to be friends—or whatever this led to—and
wanting to run home and hide. Now that Casey had filled me in, I understood
why. That didn’t make it any less of a challenge or a thrill when she gave in,
put reason aside, and did what she felt. People needed to pursue passion and
happiness more instead of settling for whatever life picture they’re taught to
want. If nothing else, maybe I could teach her to let go a little.

Four
months wasn’t much time for anything else. Not that anything else was on the
menu. Friendship, affection, passion, those were all things I enjoyed pursuing.
Love? That wasn’t in the cards. Not for me, not yet. Love clouded a future,
blocked you from fulfilling your dreams in order to be there for the other
person. That wasn’t what I wanted. Didn’t mean I intended to miss out on the
first three. No matter how short lived.

I
made sure to take the turns at extra speeds the entire way home. I knew the
trail well enough now to punch it a little, and I loved the way her thighs
squeezed me when she got nervous. I caught the sound of her laughter a few
times before the wind carried it off and knew she was having just as much fun
as I was. That alone let me know there was an inner, wilder version of Summer
just waiting to be loosed. It made me rev a little faster, turn a little
sharper, just to see it for a few fleeting moments.

Summer
Stafford, without barriers, was a beautiful sight to behold.

When
I pulled up next to the greenhouse, Summer hooted and dismounted. I stole a
look at her ass when she turned to remove her helmet. It was a damn fine ass,
high and tight in her jeans. I’d wanted a handful of it earlier but stopped
myself. A first kiss with Summer was like camping out for admission to your
favorite concert. You didn’t charge the arena. You waited your turn or risked
getting thrown out.

I
slid to my feet, unclipped my helmet, and found her grinning at me. “That was
great,” she said, obviously still floating on the adrenaline of our ride.
“Reserved Summer” would never have let that much feeling slip into her voice. I
loved hearing her talk like this. “I had no idea you were such a speed addict,”
she teased.

“When
the time calls for it,” I said. “But I don’t mind going slow, either.” Judging
by the flush that filled her cheeks, I knew she’d caught my meaning. Damn, this
girl was fun to rile. I grinned and hung my helmet before heading inside,
leaving her to follow.

Thankfully,
Casey had come by yesterday and fixed the vents so the place stayed a little
cooler than outside. It was stuffy but lacked the punch of the humidity that
hung like a damp curtain over the entire county. That was one thing I wouldn’t
miss in South Dakota. Humidity.

I
went to the mini-fridge I’d brought with me from New Mexico and took out two
lemonades. It was the first non-alcoholic drink I’d stocked since … ever. Then
again, Summer was the first girl I’d entertained in my work space. Look at me
planning ahead.

“Something
cold?” I offered.

“Thanks.”

She
cracked the top and tipped her head back for a long swig. I stared at the way
her neck exposed itself while she drank. Had I found necks attractive before? I
didn’t think so, but on her, it was sexy as hell with her hair pulled back and
her eyes closed as the cold liquid slid down her throat. I wanted to run my
tongue all the way down her neck and chest, right along the line of cleavage
that disappeared inside her tiny T-shirt. I bet she’d taste salty from the heat
of the afternoon. My jeans tightened as I tried to imagine exactly how her skin
tasted.

“What
is that one?” she asked, pulling me out of my daydreams that had grown to
include a shirtless Summer and my wandering hands. I blinked and sought out the
object of her attention.

“Actacaea
Racemosa.”

“In
English?”

“Black
cohosh,” I said, walking over slowly, praying she didn’t look below the button
of my jeans and see the very obvious proof my mind had been elsewhere.

“What
does it do?” she asked.

“Most
commonly, it’s used to treat symptoms of menopause.”

She
smirked at me. “And that’s your passion, to cure the world’s menopause
epidemic?”

“Funny.
Yeah, menopause is my thing.”

“Don’t
tell me Casey’s your guinea pig for this one too.”

“He
hasn’t had a single cramp since I moved in.”

She
laughed. “So why is it over here in the corner? Did it get moody and need some
alone time?”

“No,
it’s actually toxic if over-exposed. This version of the plant is rare and more
potent. I’m hoping to use it for treating the symptoms of osteoporosis.”

“Wow,
does it work?”

“Not
sure yet. The germination time is a lot longer on this one. Takes about a year
of growth before you can harvest it for use.”

“That’s
a long time to wait for a result,” she said.

“Not
when it’s worth it.”

I
caught the frown before she masked it. “Four years ago, I would’ve said that
same thing about my future, but here I am, back where I started.”

“I
don’t know about that. Just because you’re home doesn’t mean you haven’t made
progress. I’ll bet you’ve learned a lot about yourself in those four years.”

“True.
But I’m not exactly where I thought I’d be.”

“Doesn’t
mean you’ve failed. Just means your direction has changed.”

“I
think you need to have direction to know whether it’s changed.”

“Your
direction earlier felt good to me.”

Something
passed over her features, a shadow of regret or indecision, maybe. She didn’t
respond to my innuendo about the kiss. Instead, she continued on like I hadn’t
even mentioned it. “What about you? Where do you see yourself in four years?”

I
took a swig of my lemonade before answering that one. I knew what she was
after. This was a “when I grow up, I want to be something grand” conversation.
I hated those. Because no one else ever answered like I did. First, I never
wanted to grow up. And second, who cares what I did as long as I was happy. My
parents had instilled that in me and it stuck. The world was full of “I do
whatever makes the most money,” but I was much more comfortable with “I do what
makes me happy.”

I
was positive Summer wouldn’t go for that answer. “Four years is a long time to
speculate on,” I said finally.

“Isn’t
that the point? To speculate long enough to pick a direction?”

“I
think the point is that we don’t limit ourselves to one future, one singular
path.”

“I
agree but it’s still good to have direction, goals,” she said. I looked up at
the hardness in her voice and saw she had a dark smudge of dirt trailing down
her cheek. This prim and proper lady looking dirty had to be the cutest thing
I’d ever seen. I couldn’t even take her temper seriously right now, although I
knew I was irritating her. Or maybe that was her own baggage showing itself.
Either way, it softened me, and without thinking, I lifted a hand and used my
thumb to wipe the smudge away.

She
blinked, clearly confused at my change in direction. But she didn’t budge until
well after my fingers left her face. “I have both of those,” I said softly.
“But the journey’s the thing, not the finish line.”

The
moment must’ve gotten to her too because her eyes softened and she smiled. More
importantly, she hadn’t pulled away. Or told me to back off. I was making
progress. “The journey’s the thing … I like that. I like it a lot,” she said.

“I
like you, Summer Stafford.”

“I
… like you too.”

I
couldn’t help but throw my head back and laugh at the uncertainty in her voice.
“You might want to work on your delivery. Someone less sure of themselves might
think you’re only being polite.”

“I
mean it,” she said, her voice firmer. “I find your point of view refreshing.”

“Refreshing.
Now there’s a compliment every guy wants to hear. I’m sure it’s right up there
with
nice
and
a good personality
.”

“You
are nice.”

I
groaned. “I hope not. I don’t think there’s any way to come back from those
two.”

She
put a hand on her hip, her lips sticking out in the slightest hint of a pout.
God, she was sexy when she stood like that.
Concentrate, Ford. The girl’s
speaking. Eyes up.

“You
don’t want me to think you’re nice?” she asked.

I
leaned in close and whispered into her ear, enjoying the shiver that rippled
through her as I whispered, “Not always.”

Summer

“In these times I don't, in a
manner of speaking, know what I want; perhaps I don't want what I know and want
what I don't know.”

―Marsilio Ficino,
The Letters of Marsilio Ficino, Vol.
3

Friday’s
work day flew by. Before I knew it, quittin’ time had come and the entire staff
headed to the creek to see the race. I waited until they’d all left before
making my way down. I needed the peace and quiet, especially when I knew the
sort of ruckus I’d face when I arrived. I trudged up the path, lost in the same
back-and-forth debate with myself I’d been having for days now.

I
should’ve spent more time thinking about this race or planning a strategy but
all I’d been able to think about for the past three days was Ford. His hands,
his mouth, the clever way he always challenged my thinking. I’d never met a guy
who was both physically and intellectually attractive before. It was a lethal
combination.

And
the remark he’d made about not wanting me to think he was nice … I’d lain awake
in frustration over that comment, unable to sleep until my massaging hand had
finished the job his words and his kiss had started. Even then, it didn’t
squelch the desire and I woke frustrated and grouchy.

That
day in the woods, the heat had been a living thing winding itself inside me.
And back in the greenhouse, I’d wanted to kiss him again but had a feeling if I
did I’d crawl all over his body like some kind of horny monkey. Real
attractive.

Instead,
I’d pretended I hadn’t understood that last innuendo and gone back to quizzing
him about plants. I’d finished off my lemonade and gotten the hell out of
there, making an extra effort to avoid him ever since and trying to come up
with how to handle the dilemma that was Ford O’Neal.

Days
later, I still had no idea.

The
things he’d said about life being about the journey reminded me of what Casey
had said the other day. About taking a risk and doing something outside my
comfort zone. Adding something new to my list. Yes, I’d kissed Ford and that
had been enough to satisfy my deal with Casey, but turned out, it wasn’t enough
for me. I wanted more. More kisses. More experiences. More of the journey.

Problem
was, Ford’s journey, at least how it intersected with mine, was short. Four
more months and he’d be gone. That would make this nothing more than a fling.
I’d never, not once in my life, had a fling. Not even a one-night stand. It was
too irresponsible, but more than that, it was pointless. Why get into something
you knew from the start wasn’t going anywhere? I could almost hear Casey’s voice
in my head in answer.
Oh, it’s going somewhere all right. Straight to the
nearest bedroom.

That
thought should’ve been a strike against the idea. Instead, it ignited the rush
that always seemed to accompany thoughts of Ford. Besides, said the devil on my
shoulder, maybe a fling was just the direction I needed to finally figure out
this new version of Summer I’d been looking for since Christmas break. I would
just have to do it without getting attached.

The
sound of voices up ahead brought me out of my thoughts. I rounded the bend and
stopped cold when I saw the amount of people gathered at the bank of the creek.
Most of them were Heritage employees but there were people from town, too. I
knew all of them by face if not name. Most I hadn’t seen since last fall before
I’d gone back to school. I hadn’t been prepared to face them before. To do so
now made my heart thump double-time. When had a creek race become this
exciting?

“Hey,
Summer!” Leslie, Joe’s wife and my best friend from high school, waved and walked
over.

“Hey,
Les.” I let her pull me into a hug and returned the squeeze with genuine
warmth. Leslie was one of the few I was happy to see—with her, I didn’t mind
letting my baggage show. At least now that I’d processed it all myself. “What
is everyone doing here?” I asked.

“They’re
here for the show,” she said.

“But
how did they all know?”

She
gave me a knowing look. “Casey,” we said in unison.

“He
must be really nervous about his chances,” she said.

“Why
is that?”

“Five
bucks says he brought the crowd to rattle you. He wants you distracted.”

“Well,
it’s working,” I muttered.

“Uh-uh.
Don’t let them get inside your head. You can do this. Casey’s way out of shape.
All he does is eat Mazie’s pasta and lay underneath hoods.”

I
squared my shoulders. “True. I got this.”

“Besides,
Casey’s roommate has been talking all kinds of trash to Casey about how you’re
going to kick his ass. Apparently his money’s on you.”

“Ford
bet on me?”

“That’s
his name,” she said, snapping her fingers. “Yeah, he’s got your back. And
thanks to him, so does half the crowd. Casey’s plan backfired. You’ll have your
own cheering section.”

I
groaned and bent over, hands on my knees. “That makes it so much worse.”

“Having
a hot guy sticking up for you is worse how?”

“It
just is,” I insisted.

“Huh.
Because I’ve seen him up close, and sweetie, he can get inside my head, or
whatever else he wants, anytime.”

I
straightened, my eyes wide. “Leslie,” I hissed. “You’re married.”

She
laughed. “Does that mean I’m blind? Please don’t tell me you haven’t noticed.”

“I
… may have,” I said slowly.

“Then
what the heck are you waiting for? The second coming?”

“I’m
taking some time for myself right now.” Even to my own ears, the words sounded
hollow and, well, lame.

Leslie’s
expression softened. “I heard you ended it with Aaron. I’m sorry it didn’t work
out, Summer. You deserve to be happy.”

“I’m
sorry you heard it from someone else,” I said, remembering my promise to Joe at
dinner that first night. “I was going to come see you.”

“I
know you were, hon. No worries there. I just want you to know I’m here for you,
whatever you’re going through.”

I
could feel my eyes cloud over. I so did not want to talk about this right now.
“Aaron just wasn’t the one.”

She
nodded. “Nothing you can do will make him be, either. You have to be true to
yourself.”

I
looked away, scanning the crowd instead of meeting her eyes. I didn’t want to
let my thoughts run too deep into this line of talk. It would do more than
distract me—it would upset me. And then Casey would win before we began. “Can
we talk about this later?”

Her
eyes widened. “Oh, sure, sweetie. Sorry. You have a race to win. Come on, I’ll
walk you down. Make sure no one messes with you.” Without waiting for a reply,
she took my arm and led me toward the creek. It was almost funny watching her
petite hands tap people on the arms, parting the crowd so fiercely for me.

I
found Casey standing in the center of a group of friends, bouncing up and down
on the balls of his feet as he nodded at whatever Frank was saying. Talking
ceased when they caught sight of me and Casey grinned.

“You
ready for this, Stafford?” he said.

“Ready
to kick your ass,” I shot back.

His
grin widened. “Let’s do it.” He peeled his shirt off and handed it to Frank. I
did the same with the sundress I wore, revealing my bathing suit underneath. I
became acutely aware of the flesh exposed between the two pieces of fabric that
covered me. But I couldn’t worry about that. Leslie was right—I couldn’t let
all these people get into my head.

Someone
whistled and I followed the sound until I spotted Jimmy Duncan smiling widely,
his gaze trained on my chest. A hand shot out from beside him, planting a fist
in his ribcage and Jimmy yelped and jumped away. My dad glared at Jimmy, daring
him to complain, and shoved his hand back into his pocket.

Thanks,
Dad.

Frank
cleared his throat and turned to face the crowd, holding up his hands for
attention. “Okay, listen up!” He shushed everyone until most of the noise had
died down and then continued. “I’m going to explain the rules so shut up and
listen. The creek race is three parts. First, a swim. That one’s all about
speed. Second, a breath hold. That one’s endurance. And third, a jump off the
rope swing. That one’s strength.”

“And
style,” Casey added.

I
grimaced. The breath hold used to be my best category. I wasn’t so sure
anymore, after spending so much time away from the water. Hopefully Casey
hadn’t been practicing. And the jump off the rope swing, I sucked at that. It’s
where Casey always won. He had no fear like a normal person, no caution. He’d
swing out and do the craziest flips, landing cock-eyed on the water and getting
slapped by the surface. But no matter how hard he hit, he always came up
laughing. I’d come away with more than a few bruises trying to one-up his crazy
dives.

“Summer
here is the challenger so Casey gets to choose which event he wants to start
with,” Frank finished.

“Swim,”
Casey said easily.

The
crowd cheered.

Frank
positioned us on the bank of the creek at the lowest point. The water’s surface
was white with the rushing of the current. This was the only place the creek
was deep and wide enough to make it a challenge to swim across. It also had a
current just strong enough to make it dangerous if you got tired. I’d been
swept away more than once, banging into the rocks farther down and coming home
with cuts and scrapes.

I
stretched my arms above my head in anticipation, staring at the far bank,
envisioning arriving there. Before Casey.

Frank
produced a whistle from his pocket. This creek race was the most official and
well-attended I’d ever seen.

“You
ready for this?” Casey whispered.

“No
smack-talking,” Frank snapped before I could shoot back a smart-ass response.
Frank pointed his finger in Casey’s face, then mine. “Conserve your oxygen.”

“Casey’s
all hot air anyway,” I muttered.

Behind
Frank, Ford chuckled and we locked eyes. Goose bumps broke out over my arms and
sent a tingle down my back. I shivered. Heat rose to my face at the knowledge
my reaction to him had been noticeable—by everyone here.

“Let’s
do this. I’m getting cold,” I said to cover it up. Ford gave me a knowing wink
and I looked away, my face burning now.

Ignore
him. Ignore him. Ignore him, I chanted silently. I stared again at the far side
of the creek.

“We’re
just waiting on—Okay, we’re ready,” Frank said.

A
body appeared on the other side of the water. “What’s Joe doing?” I asked,
squinting in order to recognize him. He walked right up to the water’s edge and
stopped.

“Judging,”
Frank said. “He’s going to be my eyes over there. So no cheating. Whoever grabs
Joe’s hand first wins.”

Casey
rubbed his hands together. “Let’s do it.”

Frank
raised the whistle to his mouth. I took my stance. Beside me, Casey did the
same. When the whistle blew, we dove in.

The
temperature of the water startled me for a split second and then my body
adjusted to the coolness. I threw my arms forward and kicked my feet, cutting
through the frothy surface as fast as I could. I didn’t look to see how close
Casey might be. I concentrated on breathing and kicking and the arc of my arms.
The current tried pulling me right but I angled my stroke so that I swam a
little left. I couldn’t afford to end up too far from Joe.

Before
I knew it, I was on the other side. Winded and arms aching, I reached out—and caught
sight of Casey’s fingers pulling away just as my own touched Joe’s palm.

“Whoop!”
Casey hollered, falling back into the water with fists pumping into the air.

I
scowled and hauled myself out, ignoring the calls and cheers from the crowd on
the other side.

Joe
pointed and yelled for their benefit, “Casey wins!”

More
cheers.

Casey
hauled himself out of the water and threw an arm around my neck. I twisted away
easily and laughed at the goofy victory dance he did. “Round one is mine,” he
sang.

“You
just wait,” I said. “I am the breath-hold champion.”

“Ah,
but you don’t realize my strategy,” he said, tapping a finger to his temple.
“You’re winded now and your lungs are going to give out early from that swim.”

I
arched a brow at him. “Won’t yours have the same problem?”

His
smile faltered. “Well, damn.”

I
smirked. “Flawed strategy. Doesn’t surprise me.”

“All
right, you two. Get back over there for the breath hold,” Joe said.

I
shook my head. “I’m not wasting my energy swimming back.”

“I
got it covered. Come on,” Casey said. I followed him down the trail a few feet
where it curved hard right and the current slowed down. It was shallow enough
to wade here and I followed Casey in and across easily.