Page 13 of Country

“Dream? Like… how I consistently dream that I forgot my high school locker combination, and everything is due in the next class.”

“No.” He laughs. “What do you want for your life?”

“Oh.” The question catches me off guard. I’ve spent so much time worrying about what Mike wanted next that I never considered myself. “I don’t know.”

Country pulls out a dining chair and looks toward me. “Let’s think about it then. Do you like teaching?”

I nod, in awe of the amount of care oozing from this giant ruffian. “I love it. Watching the kids grow over the course of the year makes me feel like I’m really doing something. Bumping into past students is fun too. They always remember me and some anecdote that happened when they were in class. This one year, the class guinea pig got loose and the whole place went crazy. Kids were jumping on their desks, searching on their hands and knees, screaming at the top of their lungs. The classroom went into a complete chaos of laughter and insanity. I hear about it every time I run into one of them in the halls.”

“Did you find the pig?” He grins.

“Yeah. He’d run into the trashcan someone knocked over. His squealing gave him away.”

Country looks at me as though he really cares about what I’m saying. His body is leaned in, his gaze is relaxed but attentive, and his hand moves back and forth against my skin as though he’s calming me.

I’ve never been attended to like this. He hasn’t compared what I’ve said to something in his life, or made some weird joke to shift the focus back to him, and he hasn’t found a way to take over the conversation. He’s just listening.

“What about your personal life? What do you want from that?”

I drag in a deep breath. This is the more complicated question. Mike never wanted kids, so I convinced myself that I didn’t either. I assured myself that the kids at school were enough. And they are, to some extent, but there’s a part of me that’s always dreamed of a big family. “I don’t know. What about you?”

“We’re not talkin’ about me, darlin’. I wanna know what you want.”

I drag in a deep breath. Something about this man makes me giddy. He makes me want to crash into him, bury myself against his chest, and never leave.

“I guess I’d like a big family. Two or three kids. Maybe four. A farmhouse with some chickens and a flock of ducks.”

“Ducks?”

“Yeah.” I smile. “They’re cute with their little butt waddle.”

“Okay…” He chuckles. “What else?”

“A front porch with a rocking chair and wind chimes! Not the metal ones, they’re annoying, but the wooden ones that clank together and make the hollow tapping sound. Those are like heaven.”

“What else?”

“A rocking chair. Two of them, but I don’t want them spaced apart. I want them close together so I can hold your hand.”

“My hand?” His smile is so wide I think I might die.

“Did I say that?”

“You did.” He grins wider somehow. “You want to hold my hand.”

My cheeks heat until I’m sure they’re flaming red. “I don’t even know you. And last week, I thought you were the most annoying guy on Earth. I didn’t mean to say your hand. I just meant… a hand.”

“It’s not last week anymore. What do you feel now?”

I shrug. “I don’t know. Now, I feel this weird electricity every time I look at you, but it’s too soon. We can’t move this quickly. You have Belle to think about and she’s already too invested. You heard the directions she gave us before she went off to the neighbors.” I bite back a smile. “We’re supposed to kiss three times before the day is over. Oh, and it had to be on the lips. She made us pinky promise.”

He brushes back a strand of hair from my face, sending a chill down my spine. “What if it’s not too soon? What if I know what I want?”

“How, though?”

“When I look at you, I want to protect you the same way I wanna protect Belle. I want you both safe and under my roof to watch over.”

“Maybe you see me as a kid, then. I mean, you’re a lot older than me. It’s probably that. You just feel sorry for me.”

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