Page 58 of Take Me Home

“It’s just dinner,” I said.

“Yeah, it’s just dinner, but he keeps putting his tongue down your throat,” Becca snorted.

“So, I take it you wouldn’t be bothered if something more happened between us?”

Becca cackled. “Bothered? I’m more bothered that you haven’t hooked up yet. Making eyes at each other all the damn time and not doing a thing about it. It’s ridiculous! Caleb and I have been trying to parent trap y’all since day one.”

There was one more worry checked off the list. I’d been hung up on making Becca and Caleb uncomfortable. The only things that remained in my anxiety-ridden brain were (in no particular order): am I too old for him? Does he care that I don’t have a job in the fall? Was I too much of a trainwreck for him?

“Alright, I get it. Let’s look pleasant so we can sell some more peaches, huh?”

“Don’t change the subject. You have to let me have fun. It’s my birthday.”

“What’s your excuse all the other days?”

19

JAKE

The big day was finally happening. Super Saturday. Sabado Gigante. Date Saturday. Saturdate? Okay, I’ll stop.

I’d been quietly prepping all week. I got a haircut. I got an STI check while I was in Huntington just in case that kind of information became important. I vacuumed out and washed my truck. Best, I conned Caleb into working on our dance moves together. It was Becca’s idea, promising that Darcy would “eat that shit up.” Caleb resisted at first, but I pointed out that he could use the moves on Mandy, the girl he was bringing to Becca’s birthday. So we worked off TikTok videos of honky tonk dancing that I’d saved to my phone when I had signal. We traded places, practicing in the barn after Darcy had retired to the house.

I’ve never slid my hand up a man’s leg so many times in my life, nor had a man’s hand slide up my leg. I’m comfortable with myself. I don’t get weirded out about stuff being gay like a lot of straight men do. If it was gay, I didn’t care. It was to impress Darcy. After a few rounds, Caleb loosened up, too. But by the time we were done, we were pretty damn smooth. I was going to blow Darcy away with some honky tonk romancing.

I hit the lab in the early morning before the Little League game, loading up Becca and Darcy’s market truck before I left. I was nervous leaving a little note and water for Darcy, but I felt like she needed some reassurance. I hadn’t been able to see her much since we last kissed. I figured she was still kind of freaking out. Somehow, she couldn’t understand that I like her, as is.

The Angels won their championship game, and I took them out for ice cream. Seeing the kids’ smiles painted with bits of chocolate sauce and blue dye made me happy. They’d worked hard, and a lot of them came from tough home situations. I was bummed thinking I might not be coaching them the following year if I graduated and moved away. But a lot of that depended on how things went with Darcy. I had a good feeling about us being a real thing if I could just get her to stop running off when she was scared.

I squeezed in a nap, which was going to be necessary so I could be sharp for the date. My plan was to take Darcy to dinner, romance her with some dancing, and then clear up all her doubts about us being together. Hopefully, that would lead to her finally letting me all the way in, and not just with sex. Not that I was opposed to having sex with Darcy, if that’s what she wanted, too. I wanted to. Bad. She was so fucking hot, and if we hadn’t been interrupted on Wednesday, I’m pretty sure we would have gotten into some decent mischief. But that wasn’t all I was after with her. I gave up baseball so I could have a family. Darcy was the closest I’d found as far as someone I wanted to settle down with. If she was really the person I felt like she was, she could be The One. I was getting ahead of myself. The most important thing I wanted to achieve with the date was to fully get Darcy’s trust and get her to be my girlfriend.

I woke up just in time for me to get a peek out the window at Darcy bringing Selena in for the night and feeding the dogs. Farm work didn’t stop for date nights. I cursed myself for not offering to help her. She seemed like she’d had a nap, too. Her hair was up in a messy bun and she wore a baggy t-shirt with her tiny bumming-around shorts that I’d had the privilege of seeing a few times. It might have been me being hopeful, but she looked to have a spring in her step. I hoped she was as excited as I was.

I showered, shaved, and got dressed in my new Tractor Supply duds, a blue plaid short sleeve button up, some fresh jeans, and tan rounded boots. I even put a little pomade in my hair to style it like the hair lady showed me. I looked pretty damn good. I resisted cologne since Darcy had mentioned that she liked how I smell on an average day. Better not overdo it. For the final touch, I walked out to a patch of flowers I’d seen the other day while working and cut a thick bundle of white flowers for Darcy. I found some twine in the trailer and used that to tie them together. I half-filled a Solo cup to keep them fresh in the truck.

At 6:58, I parked outside the farmhouse. I held the flowers in one hand and leaned against the truck to wait for her, my body thrumming with anticipation. I’d had a lot of bravado when I asked her out, but the truth was, I was nervous as hell. Maybe Darcy’s skittishness had rubbed off on me. I was afraid I’d make the wrong move and she’d go running like the deer that she is.

Her feet thundered on the wooden stairs inside at around 7:02, probably freaking out that she was late. And then, there she was, her molasses-colored hair hanging in swoopy curls to her shoulder blades as she turned back to lock the house. My stomach dropped in the most delicious way.

Darcy wore a pretty white dress with thin straps at her shoulders and tiny purple and orange flowers on it. From a distance, they looked like polka dots. It came to a few inches above her knee and I tried not to think about how she probably wasn’t wearing a bra. Her brown cowboy boots showed off how killer her legs were. I’d hardly seen her in makeup, and she didn’t need it, but damn were those brown eyes popping, looking wider and brighter than ever.

“Hi!” she called nervously, flashing me a smile.

“Hey,” I said, practically melting as I took her in. Her eyes danced as she looked me up and down.

She was so fucking beautiful, I wasn’t sure how we were going to make it to the bar. I wanted to drag her into me and kiss those glossed-up lips until she climbed up on me and—

“New outfit?” she asked. I grinned.

“Tractor Supply,” I said, pulling at the shirt. “Wanted to make sure I fit in.”

“Carhartt looks good on you,” she said, patting my chest as she came to a stop in front of me.

“You clean up pretty nice yourself, Rossetti. Let’s see a twirl.” I extended my hand to spin her around. She obliged, her hair and skirt whirling out perfectly and giving me the teensiest glimpse of some pale pink shorts under the dress. “Gorgeous, baby.”

I pulled her to me for a hug and gave her a quick peck on the cheek. If I kissed her for real, we’d never leave, and I had plans for our evening beyond just (hopefully, if she wanted) a roll in the hay. She kicked up one of her boots behind her in response to my cheek kiss and giggled, a musical sound. I breathed in her freshly showered hair, with a bright, sweet perfume on top. I recognized the scent. She must have worn it on the Fourth, too. My forearms lingered on her bare shoulders and I loved the feeling of her skin on mine. I wanted to be all over her, but I controlled myself.

“You look honky tonk ready. These are for you,” I said, handing her the flowers and feeling my face warm a bit. I hadn’t been this nervous and excited about a date since I was a teenager.

---