Page 63 of The One I Left Behind

“I think Jude likes being Noughton number one. You ready?” he asks.

“Yep.”

“Does Clayton want to come?” he asks.

“We’re not there yet.” I shut the door behind me, rising on my tiptoes. “But I can kiss you now.”

He wraps his arm around my waist, pulling me into him, and our lips meet in a too-short kiss.

“I can see you.” Clayton’s voice comes out of the camera. “And so can Mrs. Davenport and her corgi.”

Ben and I look toward the sidewalk, and sure enough, Mrs. Davenport has a huge smile on her face while her dog squats in my yard, doing his business.

“Thanks, Clay.” I put my hand over the camera and kiss Ben quickly again.

“Did you forget there’s sound too?” Clay says.

“Bye, Clay.” I wave goodbye to him through the camera.

We walk out to the truck, and Ben opens the door for me. I rise on my toes again and kiss him. The smile he shoots back melts my heart. Was I a fool to think we could take this slow?

Once he’s in the cab and the key is in the ignition, I take a moment to admire him. “I say we go make out and skip the game.”

His eyes roam up and down my body. My cutoff shorts show a lot of leg, and I have a tighter T-shirt that reads Plain Daisy Ranch. I got it from The Harvest Depot years ago. “Tempting. We can make out after, though. Do you have a curfew?”

I giggle like the girl I feel like when I’m around him. “No curfew.”

“Then it’s a date.”

“We have a date Friday,” I say.

He pulls out of the driveway and drives toward the high school. “I’d see you every day of the week if I could.”

My stomach flips over with a stir of flutters.

“How is Clayton enjoying practice?” he asks.

“He doesn’t say much. Says Coach Reyes likes him.”

“He’s really talented.” Ben glances at me before looking back at the road. “Who did he work with? Seems like he must have been working with someone, unless it’s natural talent.”

Now my stomach twists. I knew this would come up at some point. “Um…”

“Was it his dad who worked with him?”

I laugh. “No.” The idea of that is preposterous.

He parks in the high school lot and cuts the engine. We’re a little early, but the Wild Bull Ranch players are already practicing.

“You don’t have to tell me. I’m just wondering how much Clayton’s dad is in the picture.”

I fiddle with my hands in my lap. “He’s not.”

I knew eventually this topic would surface and I’ve pondered what to tell him. Clayton doesn’t even know who his father is. But Ben does.

“Do you want to know who it is?” I ask. “You must. The entire town has always wondered. Most will always believe he’s yours even though I’ve said he isn’t.”

Ben puts his hand on my leg and shakes it a little. “Yeah, I want to know, but not if you’re not ready to tell me. I’ll never push you to tell me anything.”

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