Embrace (Evolve Series #2) (31 page)

Chapter 32

Slice of Heaven

~Evan~

“
S
o what’d you ladies decide to do tonight?”
I ask, unable to keep my hands off her. I’d much rather stay here with her
tonight, maybe take a moonlight dip in the lake, but she tells me the best man
must go to the bachelor party. We all know we’re having the damn thing under
traditional façade only so that Sawyer won’t throw himself off a cliff, but
Whitley’s having no more argument from me.

“We’re throwing Hayden a mobile bachelorette party.
She can’t drink with the little muffin baking, so we had to think of something
fun and different. It’s a scavenger hunt around town, and the other girls have
to do shots at all the stops so Hayden can laugh at them. I’m driving.”

“You sure you don’t want me to go and drive so that
you can play?”

“I’m sure.” She pats my cheek. “You’ll have a good
time, just behave. Strip club,” she mutters, shaking her head. “Don’t even
think about crawling in bed with me tonight if you have a speck of glitter on
you or smell like cheap perfume.”

“You know better than that, pretty girl. You’re all
I see. And it’s not exactly a strip club, they don’t have those here. It’s a
few girls Sawyer hired, dancing in our Podunk bar. Not the same thing, and only
for Sawyer’s, and maybe Zach’s, benefit,” I explain with a laugh.

“Well, don’t keep Parker out all night; he has to
get married tomorrow. If he rolls in hung-over and ruins my carefully
orchestrated ceremony, I will personally blame you.” She pokes at my chest.

Whitley had worked her tail off on this wedding. The
horse barn has been converted into a cathedral that’d make the Pope weep.
Chairs, tables, streamers, flowers, candles—you name it, she got it and draped
it everywhere. Hayden’s a good sport, too nauseas most of the time to care, and
gave Whitley free reign. I shudder to think about the day I marry my girl.
There’s no telling what she, armed with my mother, will come up with.

“He won’t,” Parker says, walking in behind us. “I’m
already ready to be home with my lil’ mama. Before we head out, though, I
wanted to catch you both. Hayden and I have a gift for ya.”

“You didn’t have to do that,” Whitley starts, though
her eyes get glassy.

“Sure we did. You’re our best man and maid of honor,
after all.” He pulls
my
woman from me and to his side. “Hayden doesn’t
have anybody here, Whit, well, ‘cept me and Mama, and you helping her these
last few weeks, being such a good friend, and dating
my
best friend; well,
I’d say you’re the perfect little puzzle piece to it all.”

I really should be the one hugging my now
hysterically weeping girl, but no, Parker seems to be basking in it, his eyes
getting teary now, too. He does realize the more he keeps saying things like to
her, the worse it’s gonna get, I hope.

“Come on,” he chuckles, kissing her head.

Hayden’s waiting outside for us, a beautiful glow to
her as she rests one hand on her stomach and holds out the other to Parker.
“Did you tell them?”

“And steal your thunder? Do I look stupid,
sweetheart?”

“Then why is Whitley crying?” she asks, giving Whit
a comforting smile.

“Evan told her she couldn’t sing at the wedding.”

“What?” Hayden screeches, turning a flesh scorching glare
my way.

“I did no such thing,” I quickly tell her, holding
up both hands in mercy. “You’re just running around getting everybody stirred
up tonight, aren’t ya?” I shove Parker in the back.

“Y’all get in,” he stumbles and laughs, helping his
bride into his truck.

“Park, where we going? The guys are waiting,” I
protest, already knowing I’ve lost and helping Whitley in.

“Let em’ wait,” I knew he was gonna say that, “this
here’s about us four, and all that matters.”

Whitley casts a nervous, curious glimpse my way and
shrugs, taking my hand in both of hers. The ride into the back of the Jones’
land takes about ten minutes, but today closer to twenty as he dodges and slows
for every dip or hole, eyeing his pregnant fiancé at every single one. She’s
around 15 weeks, last I heard, and not that I’m positive, or would
ever
ask
lest Whitley’d slap me sideways, but she seems to be getting
big fast
.
That baby will definitely be built like its daddy.

“Here we are,” Parker announces, getting out and
walking around to Hayden’s side.

I’ve seen this exact piece of land more times than
I’d even attempt to count, so I’m not sure what’s he’s showing us. Even
Whitley’s seen it at least fifty times, it’s my favorite spot on this whole
farm. There’s a slight hill with a view of more wide open land to the east and north,
the old hay barn to the south, and to the west…Amigo Creek.

That’s what we’d named it, Laney, Parker and I—Three
Amigo Creek. The town ledger says Mule Elk Creek, but we don’t care; that’s
our
creek, more than a mile of it running through the Jones’ land. It’s where I first
went skinny dippin’ with Parker and two females, neither of which was Laney.
Laney was there when we hung the rope swing and Dale yelled at us that it
wasn’t deep enough and we’d break our necks and made us cut it down. She’d been
to all of our campouts on its bank and popped the raft with us (again, not deep
enough in some spots) and right over there…my tree stand still sits in the perfect
deer hunting spot.

Yeah,
this
is what heaven looks like to me.

“You ready now?” Parker pushes on my shoulder, ornery
smile in place.

“Huh?”

“Told ya.” He smirks at Hayden.

“You sure did.” She giggles and pats my shoulder. “Now
I see what you mean.”

What?” I ask, the plot still evading me.

“I told Hayden, don’t matter how many times you
stand in this exact spot, you always do the same thing. You leave the rest of
us here and drift off, thinking about everything you love about this place. No
one will ever appreciate my land, especially
this
land,” he stomps his
foot, stirring up dust, “more than you, Evan.”

“There’s just something about it, I guess.” I half-smile
sheepishly, not knowing how else to explain it really. “Feels like my happy
place.”

“That’s why I’m giving it to you.”

Somehow I hear Whitley’s gasp, and hold her up, or
use her for support, it could go either way. “W-what?” I mutter, dazed.

“Besides Hayden and my Mama, you’re my best friend
in the whole world. Laney,” he chuckles, “Laney’s gonna get taken care of,
gonna go great places and see great things. I got real lucky, Evan. I didn’t
have to wait a lifetime to meet the best people I was ever gonna. I met them at
birth, then grade school, and third day of college.” He smiles adoringly at
Hayden. “I won’t ever need anyone else. I couldn’t do any better, and I’d kinda
like to keep ya close.”

“Park, you can’t just give me—”

“I can do whatever the hell I want. Already did, in
fact.” He pulls some rolled up papers out of his back pocket all businesslike.
“This spot, and 80 acres all around it, are yours. We can build you and Whit a
house, be lifelong fishing partners and sneak each other’s kids shitloads of
sugar.” He has me in a bro hug before I can even respond. Or bawl like a little
girl. “Love you, man.”

“Park. Hayden.” I look between them, unsure of what
to say. I can’t quite grasp what he just said. This land is
mine?
“I
love you, too, but this is—” I start to say. “I mean, thank you.” 

“Oh my God. Evan. You guys,” Whitley sobs.

This time I move quickly, my reflexes downright
catlike, making sure I’m the one to comfort her, while Parker and Hayden slink
away discreetly, giving us some privacy. “I’ll only do this if you do it with
me, hummingbird,” I whisper in her ear. “When we’re done with school, we can
move here, build any kind of house you want. Could you be happy like that, Whit?
Maybe teach at a school in town, then come home to me and raise cows,
chickens…babies?”

Her pause makes me panic so I lean back to look at
her, sweeping under her eyes with my fingers.

“Can we have pigs too?”

“Yes, love, we can have pigs.”

“Then I am so in!” She jumps, wrapping her legs
around me.

“We have three years until I’m done with school,
babe, three years to plan and build your dream house.” I place a kiss on the
end of her button nose, then, to really seal the deal, I carry her with me to
pick the wildflower I spot about ten steps away and hand it to her. “Try not to
have it all planned out by the time I get home tonight, okay?”

“Will it always be this good, Evan? I love you so
much, everything feels perfect; surely it can’t stay like this forever.”

“Nope, it’ll get better.”

Epilogue

~Sawyer~

T
ate and Bennett, Dane and Laney, Evan and
Whitley…Sawyer and Zach. Anyone else see the problem with this fucking picture?

Do I want a girlfriend, a relationship?
Hell no
.
That’s what I’ve always known to be true; the one constant I’m sure of.

But lately, something’s eating at me and I can’t
shake it. It wakes me up at night. I shoot up in a cold sweat and look around
the room…am I late for class? Did I hear my phone? Did I leave water running?

Nope, nothing, just some unseen force greater than
myself rattling my nerves. Again.

Everyone is moving on and growing up around me. I’m
stagnant, the same carousing, partying, unattached, extremely sexy guy I was
when I got to Georgia.

Where’s my too-good-to-be-true woman with Bennett’s
loving and kind sex appeal, Laney’s sporty, witty smartass hotness and
Whitley’s caring, innocent and always happy gorgeousness? Oh fuck, I want all
three rolled into one.

I could go for some real lovin’, some day after day,
but no one comes close to holding my attention longer than it takes to knot off
the condom and pull my pants up. No, I get easy, clingy, uninteresting girls.
Hell, since Whitley got initiated into The Crew, I don’t even get the ones with
the tiggest bitties anymore either.

And this bachelor party for Parker, who I’ve known
maybe eight weeks—God, I’m jealous as hell of him. That Hayden of his fucking
adores him, and she’s even hotter knocked up than she was before. And she dotes
on his ass in a very independent, non-blood sucking leech kinda way. Why can’t
I find a girl like that?

Obviously I’ve had too much tequila since I’m
hosting my own little titbag party over here, feeling sorry for myself. Fuck
this. I hold up two bills in my hand, I think they’re twenties, and silver
cowboy boots come over way too eagerly.

Challenge me, dammit! Engage more than my dick!

“What’s this get me?” I slur, shoving the bills at
her.

She kicks one ankle, then the other, getting my legs
just as far apart as she wants them and climbs over them, onto my lap. “This,”
she croons and starts to grind. Her attempt to pet my chest all sexy-like is an
epic fail, snagging one way too long silver nail on my nipple ring. She better
not rip my fucking shirt—I love this shirt.

“How much to go in the back?” Two months on a farm
is damn lonely.

She cuts quick, nervous glances around, then leans
into my ear. “Not my usual club, so not in here,” she whispers. “But for a
hundred, I’ll meet you outside after.”

Just when I’m about to finalize the exact details,
“Shook Me All Night Long,” my favorite song ever, starts blaring. Now this
dance I gotta see, moving Dracula Nails off my lap and outta my view to the
stage, aka the flat area in this place.

Spank me and put me to bed…who the fuck is that?

“Zach?!”

“Zach?!” I yell louder.

“What?”

“Who. Is. That?” I point to the, um, we’ll go with
“dancer” for now.

“Cause I know her? I think they said Karma or
something, but I doubt you’d find her in the phone book under that. Why?”

Look at him trying to be all smartass… Well, he
fucked it up—who the hell uses a phone book?

“No reason.” I bounce my shoulders in what I hope
looks like casual nonchalance, never taking my eyes off her. That may blow my
cover, but damn if I could look away even if I tried.

I’m thinking it’s the beer, strike that, tequila
goggles; has to be. I was just dogging every chick who came near me, ready to
pay for a meaningless quickie, a scratch to an itch, and sheer perfection
happens to strut in to my favorite song?

Yeah, and when I’m done here, I’m gonna ride home to
the Playboy mansion on my flying fucking dragon that I bought with my lottery
winnings.

This isn’t real and up close she’s probably a big
mess with bad breath and a whiny voice…and herpes. Gotta be.

But here’s what I do know, no guessing, no wishful
thinking, no maybe to it—take it to the bank: her hair is so dark and shiny
that you can damn near see reflections in it and it has purple streaks in it—
hot as hell. AND, wait for it… IT. IS. IN. BRAIDS.

Usually two braids or ponytails are known as
“handlebars” in my language, but on this girl, they’re cute; cute, wet dream-inducing
braids.

Her eyes are as dark as her hair and hold the fear
and anxiety of a kitten stuck in a drainpipe when it’s raining. I may never
know where it came from, this instinct that up until this point I would have
sworn on a stack of Bibles I didn’t possess, but I swear I hear her mind
screaming to mine, “you’re big and strong! Protect me, Sawyer! Take care of me,
hold me, make me unafraid!”

That body of hers is tiny. Not frail, just petite,
and tan and muscular…and her own. She turns it to the side and away from the
onlookers and keeps her hands over her barely covered breasts like the tease is
part of the dance, but it’s not. I’d bet you a nut this girl has never danced
or stripped before in her life. And if she has, she should stop immediately,
because she absolutely sucks at it.

Those come fuck me heels she’s wearing? They’re two
sizes too big and she’s never walked in them before. Also something she should
stop doing immediately. If the teetering and wobbling didn’t draw attention to
her shapely legs, it’d just be sad, but the legs are worth the painful show. Oh
and fuck me, she’s
skipping
around in a circle, I hope she doesn’t think
that’s
a good cover for her lack of dance skills…
skipping
, for
crying out loud.

And lastly, she loves this song. She’s mouthing the
words, keeping her eyes unfocused and on the back wall, dying for everything
but the song itself to be over. And when it is, she runs like she’s on fire for
cover behind the curtain.

“Who was that?” I ask Dracula Nails, still standing
beside me.

“New girl,” she answers snidely. “First night, can’t
you tell?” She laughs.

“Yeah, I can.”

“So, I’ll see you later?” She curls those inflated
lips at me.

“Maybe, if I see ya I see ya.” I get up, walking
over to Dane. “Where’d you get these girls?”

“Hell if I know; Brock hooked it up.”

“So the company, it’s local to us, like in
Statesboro?”

“I think so, why?”

“Find out for sure, I’m gonna hit the can. Be right
back.”

I really do need to take a leak, but somehow I veer
off course, peering behind the curtain like the Great and Powerful Oz will be
waiting to hand me the 411 on this girl. I don’t see him, or
her
, only
several other scantily clad women who only remind me how different she was. I
want to bust in a demand they tell me her name and where she is, but I’m forced
to duck out and shove the curtain back when their escort/bodyguard/whatever guy
spots me.

No worries, Dane can find out for me, that man has
scary ways of digging up the buried. I hurry back from the bathroom and catch
him just as he’s hanging up his phone. “Well?”

“Local company, kinda off the radar, Brock isn’t
sure they’re on the Better Business Bureau, if you catch my drift.”

“I don’t.”

He leans into me, talking low and discreet. “I know
nothing, and I’m going to say this: walk out of here and never speak of it
again. I may also fire Brock for being a dumbass. It’s some on the side thing
for one guy, mostly underage college girls needing money.”

“Fuck,” I mumble.

“Fuck is right. My name is never to be associated
with this, ever. I had no idea and I’ll kill Brock if he jeopardized any of us
in any way. You hear me?”

“Wait, so college, as in our college?”

“Yes,” he sighs, running his hand through his hair,
mad as hell.

“My old job ready at The K?” Wait, better yet… “I’ll
replace Brock even.”

“You always have a job with me, Sawyer, you know
that. Just say the word.”

“Word. I’m heading back early. Don’t fire Brock
until I say, okay? I need to talk to him first.”

“You just fire him when you have what you need. My
hands are washed of this whole thing. Now get the fuck out of here and pay for
the party in cash. No paper, you hear me, Sawyer?”

“Got it. Go, man.”

Look out, Skipper, Daddy’s coming home.