Page 117 of Strike Zone

“Wish I had a girl who enjoyed talking as much as Wren,” I hear Colt say.

Wren shrugs a shoulder not embarrassed at all that my whole family knows I’m about to remind my girl how much she likes my mustache between her thighs and how much I love her.

I drive the four wheeler out to my spot, our spot now. I have to force myself to keep my eyes on the road ahead and not on Wren. Her hair whips freely in the wind. Her face is pointed toward the sky, letting the sun soak into her skin.

I’m a lucky bastard. I don’t know what I did to become God’s favorite but I’m fucking grateful to him for bringing Wren into my life.

Wren and I walk hand in hand around the land that we’ll build our home on one day.

I’ve always been someone who knew what they wanted. I come across as the jokester of the group, but I’m well rooted. It would take a lot to blow me away, but Wren manages to do it every time.

I lead her into the old rickety barn. I’m not sure if it is worth salvaging, but I would like to. We’ve been making a lot of good memories in here.

Wren stretches out on the bed of blankets we made the first night she came home. I lay down beside her and tangle my legs with hers.

“The first time I heard you sing, it was from behind the closed door of your dorm. You were singing about finding whatever makes a person happy. My first thought was that those things weren’t going to be found at Newhouse. I thought I needed to be here to be happy. But I was miserable while you were gone.” I position myself over her body. Her hands immediately go under my shirt.

“I always felt stuck at school. I couldn’t wait to get out of there and chase after the things I thought were going to make me happy. Turns out my happiness was behind that door the whole time. I heard you singing, but Charlie opened the door. I thought it was her.”

She lets out a full belly laugh. “You didn’t ask Charlie to sing for you, did you?”

“No. She told me the truth on our little date.”

“Why didn’t you ever say anything?” she asks, her fingers tickle up the side of my chest.

“It didn’t matter. I already knew it was you. Whether you were the one singing or not, it was always going to be you and me. I don’t know how I’m ever going to be able to thank you for everything you’ve done for my family.” I glide my hand up and down her side. I need to feel her. Have my hands on her.

“Our family and you don’t need to say thank you. I did it for me. I’m pretty selfish that way. Now you’re all mine. You’ve got to put up with my smart mouth for the rest of your life.” Her eyes sparkle with mirth.

“I love your smart mouth.” I lean down and kiss her lips. “We’ve been throwing strikes at each other for months. Every barb, every insult, you hit the mark every time. We learned each other’s weaknesses and exploited them with efficiency. You know what it takes to bring me to my knees. Baby, you do it by breathing.

“I want you selfish.” I kiss down her neck to her chest. “I like you greedy.” I move down her body and unbutton her shorts. “I fucking love you mean.” I strip her of her clothes. “And I love that you’re mine.”

31

WYATT

In an hour, Songland Farms will officially be open for business.

The last month has been all hands on deck getting everything ready for the grand opening of our first summer season. Wren has worked herself to the bone lining up influencers and photographers to come out and document everything.

Mason and Colt, along with their foreman, Lenny, built Lenny Land, to her exact specifications. Complete with a giant silo slide. It turned out to be the biggest selling point for families. We sold out of all our tickets for both days in a few hours.

It isn’t opening day jitters that has me jumping from boot to boot unable to stay still. Wren’s mom and dad should be here any minute. They got into town late last night and are staying at a bed and breakfast a town over from here.

I know I’m not the country club guy they thought their daughter would end up with. Even with her using all her money to get my family out of debt, our financial differences have never been an issue. It doesn’t stop me from worrying about them liking me.

I quickly finish setting up the pre-cut flowers in the shop. It’s the last thing I have to do on my list. I want to find Wren and see if she needs help with anything else.

She’s been running around like a chicken with its head cut off making sure everything is set up correctly and all of our volunteers know what they are supposed to be doing.

There’s been a learning curve as we transition to a large scale operation. Lucky for us, my girl knows how to manage people. Her direct approach may come across as abrasive to some but it gets the job done. Most people have embraced her no-nonsense attitude. They know she is the person to go to with any compliments, complaints, and concerns. If something isn’t working efficiently, you best believe Wren will take care of it.

Walking out of the barn, I see Mason over by the play area. “Have you seen Wren around?” I ask. He’s checking to make sure everything is bolted down and ready for hundreds of kids to go wild.

Last weekend Lenny invited a bunch of her friends—excuse me, her test group—over. Wren helped her type up a questionnaire and everything. It reminded me of her student profile she wanted me to fill out.

“I think she’s up front by the road. You should call her on the walkie.”

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