I barked out a laugh at his bad analogy. “Ducks? Really?” I shook my head and cracked the bottle of water he handed me, gulping it down. The cool water that ran down my chin and onto my chest was welcomed in the heat of the day. “She’s only passing through. Don’t go getting ideas in your head,” I reminded him. I wasn’t sure if the two weeks were going to be the slowest, most painful of my life or if they’d fly right by.
“Hmm, maybe she could be convinced to stay,” he mused, with an innocent expression on his face. One I knew better than to buy into.
“I’m warning you, Brax. Leave the girl be; she doesn’t belong in these parts.”
“Ducks, D. Not just ducks.” He looked over at her again. Then I did something I’d never done in my life. I snapped at him.
“You don't have a fucking clue what you are talking about. Finish up here. I'm done.” I jumped on my quad and sped off toward the house. Not only had I just taken Braxton’s head off, but I’d skipped out on my responsibilities too.
Once home, I traded my quad for my truck, stopping just long enough to grab a clean shirt, and flew out of the driveway heading toward the local bar. Once there, I pulled in and crushed the brake pedal to the floor, slamming my door as I jumped out. I stomped inside and threw myself into a bar stool slapping my hand down twice to get Rach, the bartender’s, attention. She took one look at me and slid a beer down the worn wooden counter top. I downed it in a few long pulls and nodded at her as she finished up with her customer and wandered down to me with another two bottles in her hand.
“Rough day, D?” she asked uncapping both bottles and sliding one to me before tipping her own back.
“Rough goddamn week,” I grumbled and chugged down my second drink.
“Out with it then.” Rach nodded putting her drink down and leaned forward onto her elbows. I’d known Rach practically my whole life. She’d grown up round here and went to the same school as us, kicked around the same circles and generally been a good friend.
“Damn city girls coming in and screwing shit up.” I hadn’t intended to say much of anything, but the thing with Rach was once she got you to talk, the flood gates seemed to open and there was no stopping it.
“Oh, shit.” Rach rubbed a hand over her face and grimaced “Is she back? “
I cringed and shook my head knowing exactly who she was. She had a name I’d never mention again in my God given natural born life. She had been a city girl too. I slipped back into the memory of my seventeen-year-old self.
“You sure about this, buddy?” Darren, my best friend all through school, had asked quietly while we sat on the grandstands watching all the students walk past.
“Never been more sure of anything in my life.” I shook my head and smiled. “She’s it, bud. She’s the one. I’m gonna marry that girl.” I looked down at the huddle of people on the field and spotted my girl. Long brunette hair, long legs and a magnetic personality. She threw her head back and laughed loudly, everyone around her joining in. Nobody could be near her and not be happy. She was just that kind of person. “Yeah, I’m gonna marry her.”
I snapped out of my memory when I heard glass smashing. I looked further down the bar to see Rach with a guy almost twice her size in her face. I didn’t even think of moving seeing as I knew exactly what would happen next. I watched from out the corner of my eye as Rach grabbed a handful of his shirt when the guy pulled his hand back, and without a second thought, she reared her fist back and planted it square on his face causing blood to flow from the obviously broken nose she’d just served him. She let go of his shirt, pushing him back and he tumbled over his bar stool, cussing her out the whole time. “You bitch!” he yelled at her.
She reached behind the bar, pulled out her baseball bat, and then told him, “Get your stupid ass out of my bar. Don’t let me catch you here again, needledick.” With that, the dumbass got up and scurried to the door just about pissin’ his pants on the way. Rach was a tough one and everyone in town knew not to fuck with her or her bar.
“You good?” I asked when she came back down my way with another cold bottle for me.
“Yeah. No sweat.” She winked and wiped the remaining blood off her hand.
I flinched and pulled my hand into a fist at the next wave of memories that hit me.
“You’re only twenty years old, boy. You sure you don’t wanna wait a bit longer? Gramps had told me that afternoon.
“Nah, I’m going to get my city girl. I’m taking her to the drive in and I’m gonna ask her. I got the ring today. I’ve got it all set up. I pick her up in an hour. I’ve got the picnic dinner all ready to go; her favorite flick’s playing tonight. The stars are out and it’s gonna be something I’ll never forget, Gramps.”
She’d moved in to town a few years back from the city, and from the first moment I’d laid eyes on her, I knew I wanted that girl. She might have been city, but she was my city, and I was gonna have her for the rest of my life.
“Best be hurrying then. Don’t waste any time. Girls like that, they don’t hang around waiting.” Gramps had been spot on, and apparently so had I. It turned out to be a night I wouldn’t ever forget.
“She ain’t her,” Rach said, taking my empties away. I’d been lost in thought for so long I hadn’t realized I’d knocked back half a dozen beers already.
“Come again?” I raised my eyebrows at her while I slid my next drink from one hand to the other.
“You heard me.” She wiped down the counter in front of me with the rag in her hand. “Not all of ‘em are gonna do a runner like she did.”
“And what makes you think that?” I scrunched my brow up at her.
Rach shook her head and looked to the roof before bringing her gaze back to me. “Because why would you be sitting in my bar on a Thursday afternoon when you should be working, drowning your sorrows over a girl you say isn't important? You're the smartest guy I know, Destry. You wouldn't be letting her get to you if you didn't already know she was different.”
I grumbled into my beer as Rach walked off to serve more customers. I had to concede; I had made my mind up early in regards to Amelia being just like that girl who’d broken a piece of me. Maybe, Rach was right. Maybe, I needed to look at her with more of an open mind. Maybe, she wasn’t the spoilt little princess I’d assumed she was. Maybe, I already knew all of that to be true.
5
Amelia
The rest of the week flew by in a blur of sweaty, shirtless guys, who were too hot for their own damn good. I hadn’t yet regretted my decision to insist on helping out around the place, and now their gran and pops were staying with family; it seemed like they needed the extra help.
To say I was more than a little surprised at how well the boys could cook, clean and generally take care of themselves was an understatement. Clearly, they’d been taught from an early age how to take care of things. It was refreshing, considering the men who’d been in my life couldn’t even manage to get their own clothing out of the closet on their own. Their clothing had to be laid out for them, lined up for their convenience in the order that they dressed, pressed to perfection, and presented like some kind of twisted fashion show. Much like the women in their lives.