Riley's Pond (New Adult Romance) (8 page)

“I don’t have a bony ass.”

“No you certainly don’t. You’ve got curves in all the right places.” The corner of his mouth pulled. I felt trapped and unable to move within my terrycloth cage.

“How deep is that pond, anyway?”

He glanced at a thick branch overhead where a rope dangled with several large knots tied at the bottom. “Deep enough to cannonball off that swing without hitting bottom.” Riley fiercely rubbed my arms, still trapped in the cloth cocoon. “Want to try it out?”

“No thanks. I’ve swallowed enough pond water today. Besides, I should get going.”

Again Riley refused to move, keeping the towel tightly wound around my body. His head dropped, his mouth hovering over mine.

“What are you doing? I thought you weren’t going to touch me.”

“I’m not. I’m thinking about kissing you instead.”

“Forget it. I’m not kissing you.”

“You sure about that?”

At the moment, I wasn’t sure of anything. For a split second I thought about biting his lips when they lightly brushed across my mouth, but the need to taste them seemed more tantalizing. Our mouths pressed again in a firmer kiss. The towel loosened, slid to a puddle around my feet when Riley’s hands wrapped the back of my neck and my arms locked around his waist.

His mouth tasted of spearmint gum and Dr. Pepper, the combination deliciously mixing with my Juicy Fruit. His hands felt warm against my damp skin, his fingers snaking under my top and pressing my lower back.

Taylor, what the hell is wrong with you? You don’t go around kissing strange boys.

Until now.

I pushed away and grabbed the dirt covered towel from beneath my feet, shoving it against Riley’s chest before my eyes could be diverted.

“Stop. I don’t even know you.”

His shocked response sounded breathy. “I thought that’s what we were doing? Getting
acquainted.
”

“I’m not into easy introductions. That’s not my style.”

“Could have fooled me.”

I so wanted to slap him, but chose to step back instead. “Yeah, well…sorry if I gave you the wrong idea. I like things slower. I’d at least want to know what kind of car a guy drives, first,” I joked, struggling against the urge to kiss him again.

Riley closed out the space between us, cupping my arms. “Toyota Tacoma truck. Red. Chrome wheels and a killer Kenwood stereo system. If you like, I could show you tomorrow night when I take you out for pizza.

“Why not tonight?” I asked, matching his cocky attitude and curious to know the answer.

“I don’t want
you
to get the wrong idea. I’m not a ‘one-afternoon-by-the-pond kind’ of guy.” Riley flung the towel over his shoulder. A lopsided smile slid up his cheek and deepened a dimple. His rubbed his lips. “I’ve got to see if you’re worthy to experience another taste off these babies. I’ve been told they qualify as lethal weapons.”

I slipped my feet into my flip flops and took the hand offered. “You’re really full of yourself, aren’t you?”

“Just stating the facts listed on the warning label,” he laughed, helping me over the rocks and into the sunflower carpeted meadow.

“Warning label?”

“In the small print, right here,” he said. My gaze dropped to the full bottom lip he tapped and without warning, his mouth covered mine confidently.

“Oh, you’re good,” I acknowledged, falling in step beside him.

“Yes, I am.”

Eleven

MY NEW RELATIVE—"UNCLE SAM”

Jaxson

Every time I drove to town, I passed the city’s tombstone. The chunk out of the side of “Ellsville” served as a constant reminder that hell existed and I lived it. Friday night marked the town’s fundraiser barbeque and dance to raise money to buy a new marquee, but I’d been informed my dance card had been shredded and I’d attended my last party.

The recruiting office had to be the most depressing place ever. The cinderblock walls were painted robin egg blue, probably from a can of paint off the clearance shelf at the local hardware store. Posters showing movie star smiles and elated expressions on faces too pretty to be real, all wearing the latest designer camouflage fatigues, dotted the walls. The only picture anywhere near realistic was the mega tank with its gun barrel pointed right at me.

Boom. You’re dead

The fake leather couch squeaked against my jeans, and when my dad plopped his armor laden body next to me, it sounded like one of us cut loose an enormous fart. My old man even smiled when the haughty receptionist peered over her reading glasses in disgust.

The door behind her opened and a gentleman clearly used as the model for the
Incredible Hulk,
filled the doorway. My dad stood, slapping my shoulder to do the same.

“Stanley Martin, is that really you?” Big Man asked, reaching us in literally
one
step.

“Adams, you’re still as ugly as ever.”

Big Man hugged Midsized Man and I stepped out of the way, letting them have their bonding moment.

Big Man briskly rubbed the top of dad’s head. “Where’s your hair? Bev pull it out after all these years of wild sex? You two had that GTO bouncing so hard, I wondered if there would be any shocks left by the time we graduated high school.

My dad’s hair appeared snow white beneath the glowing red orb called his head. His throat had to be raw by the time he’d obnoxiously cleared it a hundred times.

“Uh, Adams. The kid here…is my
son.
”

“Oh shit! Well, he’s old enough.” He poked my dad with his elbow. “He does know about the ‘birds and the bees’, doesn’t he?”

I officially looked for a hole in the floor to drop through. My mind barely wrapped around the news my parents banged their brains out
before
they married, to deal with this jerk’s attempt at bad humor.

“Jaxson, here, could teach
you
a few things.” He nudged my arm and I stood at attention, mockingly. “Jaxson, this is Colonel Brandt Adams, or as I knew him growing up, ‘pee-pee pants’.”

Touché old man.

Somewhere behind us, something crashed to the floor and a pencil rolled to the side of my foot. I contemplated returning my dad’s smart-aleck comment by addressing Big Man as “Colonel Pee-Pee Pants” but thought better. “Pee-Pee’s” lips disappeared, all humor gone.

“Yes, well it’s a good thing we learn to be strong while we’re young. Speaking of which, young man, I understand you pride yourself as quite the bad ass in this town.”

“Yes, Sir. I mean no, Sir.”

“Make up your mind. Which is it?”

“
No
, Sir. I don’t consider myself tough. More like stupid. Sir.”

“If you’re tired of being stupid then I can help you. If not, I’m afraid you’re wasting my time. Mr. Martin, this deal I made with your dad isn’t something usually done. I owe him. He saved my drunken ass one night when I’d reached the end of my rope. Literally. I had a noose around my neck, about to hang myself in my garage. Your dad talked me out of it and stood by me while I endured months of therapy, becoming my best friend.

“Like he said, I’d earned a reputation as a pup that followed me like a cruel shadow into my teen years. From what your dad has told me, your reputation is doing nothing to help you. If you’ll trust me like I trusted your dad and are willing to break your little ass to prove everyone wrong, I can help mold you into a man the community will respect, not despise. A son a mother can be proud of, instead of embarrassed about. Your choice, Jaxson.”

“You or jail?”

“I can promise you Jaxson,
jail
would be a hell of a lot easier than what I’m offering, but when you’re through serving your tour of duty, the only record following you will be one you’ll be proud to show off to your kids. Maybe even some sweet little lady.”

Ally hardly qualified as “sweet” after trying to sever my tongue with her teeth, but oddly, I wanted to make her proud. I needed to prove to her I wasn’t the jerk she believed me to be. And Mom. I owed her so much. Even the Guard couldn’t perform such an impossible miracle.

Dad nodded my direction, cocking a brow. “Well, Jax. What’s it going to be? This is
your
decision. I’m only giving you the option. What you choose to do is up to you, as well as the consequence. No blaming anyone else. Not anymore.”

A rock of emotion rose in my throat and I forced back unexpected tears. Damn, I loved Dad, even if I couldn’t say it. He’d put his neck out on the line for me one more time, only this time, he could get his head chopped off if I fucked up.

I squared my shoulders to Colonel Adams. “Can I drive a tank? If so, I’d like to check out your travel plan.”

He extended his hand, the shake as forceful as I expected. “I’ll see what I can do. Welcome to the Army, Mr. Martin.”

Twelve

BRAWLING AT BARNEYS

Taylor

The red shirt joined the growing pile of clothes on the floor.

“Too low. He’ll never see my eyes,” I grumbled. I stretched a navy blue T-shirt over my head, turning and appraising my profile in the full length mirror in the corner.
Not bad
I thought, smoothing it over my jeans. I twisted to see if my butt looked fat with the embellished pockets screaming “place hands here.”

“Damn!” I cursed, pushing the denim off my legs. My derriere faced the door where unbeknownst to me, Grammy leaned on the doorframe.

“How the hell can you walk around with a ribbon of fabric tucked in your craw like that? Looks damn uncomfortable, if you ask me.”

“Grammy!” I shrieked, scrambling to find something to cover up my exposed
cheeks
. The “ribbon of fabric” happened to be my purple thong underwear, barely covering my lower regions.

“I didn’t know you were there! Please knock from now on, okay?”

She dipped her teabag, raising a disapproving brow. “My house, missy. Besides an open door doesn’t require a knock.” Stepping inside, uninvited
,
Grammy pulled the red sweater off the floor. “This color looks much better on you. The shirt you have on is so drab.”

“But this one’s cut so low, it shows too much cleavage.”

“Honey, when you bend over in those low cut jeans and expose that purple dental floss, no one’s going to notice the
crack
between your breasts. They’ll be too busy measuring the
smile
on your backside.”

I didn’t have a response to my grandmother’s crass observance. My mouth just hung open in shock.

“Where did you say you were going again?”

“Barneys. At the end of town. That lady at the boutique says that’s where the kids my age hang out.”

She regarded me. “Wear that cute sundress you bought,” she stated matter-of-fact. “And wear your hair down, not in a ponytail. Boys like girls who are feminine. No need to give away your secrets all at once.”

Great. My grandmother ranked me as a slut.

“Grammy, I’m not meeting boys.”

“Sweet angel, the boys will be meeting
you.
” She walked out, still dipping her tea bag.

**

The engraved heart pendant Daddy gave me for my thirteenth birthday, dropped to the perfect spot below the hollow of my throat. The sterling silver had antiqued somewhat, dulling the brilliance but complimenting the simplicity of my chambray sundress. I tugged my lace edged leggings over the purple
dental floss
and slipped my feet into my gray and white Converse sneakers.

“Much better,” Grammy noted when I bounced down the stairs. I did an eye roll, hating that she was right. She pulled through the long strands of hair falling over my shoulders. “Is that the necklace your dad gave you?”

“Yeah,” I answered plaintively.

“Bastard always did have good taste. Got to give him that much. Now, when will you be home?”

“Grammy, I’m eighteen.”

“But I’m not, and these old bones won’t rest until your home. Make it midnight.”

“
Graaamm . . .
” I whined.

“You going to stamp your feet too? Taylor, nothing good happens after midnight, trust me.” She walked away, waving her hand. “I’m just sayin’.”

**

I parked three rows behind a certain red truck, second guessing my decision. We never really firmed up pizza plans for tomorrow night, but ever since I arrived home from swimming, I hadn’t been able to think about anything but kissing Riley Martin.

When I walked inside, there may as well have been a neon sign over my head flashing “fresh meat” by all the leering stares my entrance attracted. Girls cuddled closer to their guys, placing territorial kisses on their cheeks and necks to mark them, while never removing their eyes from me.

Scanning the room, I looked for the one person who consumed my thoughts, but couldn’t see him. Shaking my head full of insecurity, but covered in a mane of fantastic hair, I did the clichéd toss of my golden locks. A hot kid with dark brown hair watching me pass from the end of his pool cue, flinched, sending the cue ball hopping over the side of the table and rolling across the floor.

I put my toe out and stopped it. Reaching down as delicately as a prima ballerina, I picked it up and held it, perched on my fingertips. Purposely, I lifted a brow to match my not-so-subtle grin.

“Looking for this?” I asked in a flirty lilt.

The fastest way to flush out a guy would be calling the scent of another one into the
mating ring
.

His hands covered the ball, holding it and my hand a bit too long to be innocent. The voice came out in a husky tone, the eyes dark as dangerous deep water.

“I love it when a girl holds my ball.” Apparently, he considered himself to be the magi of charm and seduction, rolled into a crude naïve sixteen, at tops, year-old boy. One who needed to be knocked down a peg.

Withdrawing my hand, I gave a playful pout. “I’m sorry, but I prefer guys with
two
balls.” I dropped the cue ball in his hand and used my finger to push his chin up, closing his surprised mouth. His face turned an odd blend of fire engine red and jade green.