Serenity Falls (3 page)

“You’re
right, Mrs. A,” he says. Still looking at me, he continues. “I’ll keep you
posted and let you know what’s going on.”

“Thanks.”

Getting
out of my chair, I carry my glass over to the sink, and look over at Sandy.
“Well, I guess I better get my bags and head on over to the volunteer
quarters.”

She
waves her hand in dismissal, as if what I’ve just said is ridiculous. “Oh no,
you don’t. You’re staying in here. I’ve already got a room set up for you.”

“Oh
no, that’s quite all right. I appreciate the offer though.”

Shooting
me a stern look and narrowing her eyes, she dares me to argue with her.
Accepting that there’s no other way around this, I nod my head and smile at
her. “Yes ma’am. Thank you for letting me stay here.”

“Now
that’s more like it. Go get your things, and put ‘em away and then you can help
me make lunch.”

Smiling,
I hug her. “Thank you so much. And I am really happy and excited to be back.”

Walking
out to my Jeep, I step up on the running board and lean over, pull my three
bags out and toss them to the ground. I hear
Barefoot Blue Jean Night
by
Jake Owen blaring in the distance. I cup my hands over my eyes, shielding them
from the sun only to see a black Ford F-250 hauling ass toward the house.
Deciding it’s none of my business, I pick my bags up as the truck parks next to
my Jeep. “Here, let me help you with those.” A man’s voice stops me in my
tracks.

“No,
it’s all right, but thanks,” I say without looking back at him. I can hear his
feet hitting the ground below after he slams the truck door shut.

“I
insist,” he argues.

I
look back over my shoulder to spout how it isn’t necessary, but I’m not
prepared for what I see staring back at me. My mouth runs dry as I take in his
black ribbed tank top that accentuates the corded muscles traveling down his
thick, tan arms as he jogs around the back of my Jeep. Below the hem of his tan
cargo shorts, the sight of his defined legs is a remarkable sight. “Please, let
me help you with those,” he says again, grabbing the bags from me.

A
shiver runs through me when his strong calloused fingers brush against mine
retrieving my bags. “Thank you,” I say as he flashes a full-blown smile at me,
displaying his delicious dimples and a set of perfectly straight teeth. My eyes
travel up and down his body, finally resting on his eyes. I hope my gasp wasn’t
audible because I do not want to be one of those girls. Staring back at me is a
pair of the brightest blue eyes I have ever seen, almost piercing like the
Caribbean Sea.

“Where
to?” he asks.

“Um…
there.” I point in the direction of the main house.

“All
right,” he says, walking toward the house.

Snapping
myself out of it, I follow him. Looking over his shoulder, he asks, “And you
are?”

“Kenleigh.
Kenleigh Briggs,” I answer.

Nodding
his head, I see a faint smile sweep across his face as he turns back to look at
the house. Climbing the stairs on the porch, he opens the screen door letting
me pass in front of him. The kitchen where Sandy was is now empty. “What room
are you staying in?” he asks from behind me.

Hopefully
one next to you.
“Um… I’m not sure. I
mean I don’t know. I mean… I thought I was… You know what? Never mind.”
Damn
it! I can’t believe I just started stammering like a fool.
I take a deep
breath and collect myself before I start over. “I wasn’t told which room I’d be
staying in.” Turning around, I place my hands on my hips. I know I just caught
him staring at my ass. When I clear my throat, his eyes snap up to meet my ‘are
you serious’ look.

A
grin tugs at the corner of his lips when he nods, bypassing me into a hallway.
“Well, let’s take a look and see what room you’ll be in.”

“I’m
sorry, but I didn’t catch your name.”

“It’s
Wesley, but my friends and family call me Wes,” he says, opening a door.

I
slap my hand over my mouth when I realize that I was just checking out the
owner’s son, not even five minutes ago. “Will and Sandy are your parents?” I
ask, feeling like an idiot.

“Yeah,
and they must really like you to let you stay here in the house,” he replies
checking another room. “Ah… here you go. Mom always leaves fresh towels and
mints on the bed when we have company. She likes to think it’s a hotel
sometimes,” he says, chuckling.

Nodding,
I skirt past him into the room. My jaw drops as I look at the furnishings.
Decorated beautifully with white wicker furniture, the large bed sits opposite
the window that overlooks the horse stables. A gorgeous quilt with intricate
patterns and a multitude of colors lies on the bed. Sitting in the far corner
of the room next to the armoire is a wooden rocking chair with another quilt
draped over its backing. “It’s nice isn’t it?” Wes asks, pulling me from my
daze.

“Yeah,
it sure is. Look, thanks so much for getting my bags,” I reply, reaching for
them. Smiling at my outstretched hand, he chuckles and sets them on the bed.

“Anytime,”
Wes replies, walking toward the door. Placing his hand on the doorframe, he
looks back at me. “I’m sure we’ll be seeing a lot of each other around here.”

All
I can do is nod since my nerves have rendered me speechless. I turn away from
him and look out the window. My eyes focus on the stables as I answer quietly,
“I’m sure we will.”

I
can hear the tapping of his hand on the frame as he says, “All right then. I
guess I’ll see you later.”

Taking
a deep breath, I turn back around to see he has left the room. After closing
the door, I fall back in a heap onto the bed breathing a sigh of relief. Boy,
am I in for it this summer.

After
putting my clothes away in the dresser and hanging what I needed to in the
armoire, I make my way to the kitchen to help Sandy with lunch. Bounding down
the stairs, I stop to look at the pictures of the Adams family that line the
walls on either side of the staircase. Pictures of family vacations, Wes
playing football and baseball throughout the years, and previous Christmas’
line one side. On the other side of the staircase are pictures of Wes’ high
school graduation, his first truck, Will and Wes fishing on a boat, but one
picture in particular catches my attention. In a silver frame is a picture of a
large tree next to a creek. A younger Mrs. Adams sits on a swing looking over
her shoulder at a much younger Mr. Adams standing beside her. A wide smile
encompasses her face as she stares at her husband with nothing less than total
devotion, adoration, and never-ending love. The look on Will’s face says it all.
It’s a look that says he knows he’s lucky to have her. It’s a look that I know
well since that’s how my parents looked at each other every day, a look I hope
to share with someone someday.

I’m
pulled out of my reminiscing when I hear someone say, “I like that picture,
too.”

I
smile at Wes from over my shoulder before taking a deep breath. “How long ago
was this picture taken?”

“I’m
not sure, but I know it was before I was born. Why?”

“I
was just wondering. They look so in love,” I reply, sighing.

“Yeah,
I guess.” He shrugs his broad shoulders. “So, what are you doing right now?” he
asks with a smile.

“I’m
about to help your mom with lunch. Why?”

“My
dad told me last week that he bought two new mares that need breaking in, so I
was wonderin’ if you wanted to go check ‘em out,” Wes answers while rubbing the
back of his neck and looking at me nervously.

I
smile at the gesture. When we met thirty minutes ago, he seemed so confident,
but now, he seems a little shy. “Um… sure. Let me help with lunch first and
then we can go after, if that’s okay?”

“Sounds
good,” he answers as his eyes find mine.

As
we stand there staring at each other, I feel like he can see through me. I’ve
come a long way since the death of my parents. I don’t hold back from life
anymore. I take it head on. My parents were too young when they died; they
still had so much to look forward to. I’ve come to realize that life is too
short to not enjoy it, to not seize every happy opportunity that you can. I
catch a smile tug at the corners of his lips when he sweeps his hand out in
front of me, motioning for me to take the lead. I snap out of it, rushing down
the stairs, and away from him.

As
I enter the kitchen, I walk over to Sandy, who is standing in front of the sink
peeling potatoes and singing quietly to herself. “Is there anything I can help
you with?” I ask, coming to stand next to her.

She
points the potato peeler towards the fridge. “Sure. Can you get the lunch meat
and all the fixins’ for sandwiches out for me?”

Pulling
open the fridge I answer, “Yes ma’am.”

“Hey,
Mom,” Wes says from somewhere behind me.

“Hey,
Honey. How was your trip in from Dallas?”

“It
was good. I’m happy to be home though.” I turn around and search for a knife to
start prepping the sandwiches while he envelops her in a big hug. Sandy’s blue
eyes sparkle with love for her son.

Patting
her on the back, he releases her. “I’m glad to have you home. Have you met
Kenleigh yet?”

“Sure
have,” he answers, grinning in my direction. “Sorry, I would have been in here
sooner to say hi, but after I helped Kenleigh with her bags, and went back out
to get mine, Dad found me. He started talking about how he bought two new mares
and how he wanted me to see them. You know how he gets.” He turns to look at me
with a grin.

I
feel a blush coming on when I see a look wash over Sandy’s face. I’m not sure
what it is, but it definitely looks like she is conjuring up something. Quickly
busying myself, I wash the produce and start slicing them for our sandwiches.
“Well, go on. Sit down while we get lunch made up for y’all,” she says.

“So,
Kenleigh, what do you do?” Wes asks, taking a seat at the dining table.

Just
as I look at him to answer, the screen door swings open, banging against the
wall behind it. Walking in, Brantley yells, “Wes! My man!”

“Hey
Brantley.” Wes stands to greet him, and they exchange some kind of fist bump.

“So,
how was it? Did you ride Demon?” Brantley asks excitedly as he pulls out a
chair across from Wes.

Demon?
Intrigued, I try to pay attention to their conversation without looking like
I’m eavesdropping. I look back at Sandy and quickly ask, “How many am I
making?”

“I
think ten should do it. Most of the volunteers won’t be here for another week,
so it’s just us and Brantley for now,” she answers.

I
look at her completely dumbfounded because I can’t seem to think of why we need
ten sandwiches when there are only five of us. Noting my confused look, she
chuckles. “You haven’t seen my boy eat. And Brantley can put away his fair
share too.”

“What
do they like on their sandwiches?” I ask.

“I
know Wes will want mustard and all the fixins’, but I’m not sure about
Brantley. He changes his mind so often that I can never keep up. One week he
wants mayonnaise, and the next he wants mustard,” she answers, releasing and
exasperated breath. “Hey, Brantley, what do you want on your sandwich?”

“Mayonnaise,
please,” he answers looking at her over his shoulder. “Hey Kenleigh.” He waves,
acknowledging my presence for the first time since he came back into the house.

“Do
you want everything on your sandwich too?” I ask, looking between him and Wes.

“Yeah.
Thanks.” Brantley turns back around to face Wes, and tries to pick up where
they left off, but only gets a bunch of uh-huhs and yeahs from Wes.

I
really want to hear about this Demon, but figure it’s best if I don’t. I don’t
know Wes, and don’t want to feel like an intruder in his home. I can tell by
everyone’s receptions to him that this is the first time he’s been home in a
while. The last thing I want to do is feel like I’m stepping on anyone’s toes.

Putting
the finishing touches on Wes’ sandwich, I feel like a hole is being burned
through me. Slowly, I lift my head to see a set of clear, blue eyes trained on
me. For a second, I stare back before quickly dropping my gaze from his. As I
finish his sandwich, I turn away from the counter to look for a bag of chips.
Opening and shutting just about every cabinet I can find, looking for the damn
things, I’m startled when I’m tapped on the shoulder. “Here, I found them for
you,” Wes says quietly over my shoulder, holding up a bag of potato chips. The
heat from his body close to mine, and the smell of his cologne invades all of
my senses in a good way.

“Did
I really look that lost?” I ask with a nervous chuckle.

“Just
a little. I figured these were what you were looking for.”

“Thanks.”
I take the bag from him, but he doesn’t move away from me.

“Um…
Can I get by?” I ask with a look of bewilderment.

“Jasmine,”
he says with a faint smile.

“What?”
I don’t know what he’s talking about, but it’s kind of creeping me out. Trying
to look past him to see if anyone else notices what is going on, I see Sandy
lost in her own world slicing potatoes and Brantley on his phone doing
something.

“Jasmine.
You smell like jasmine.”

Oh!
I pick up a piece of my hair to sniff the scent of
the shampoo left behind on my long chestnut locks. “Do I stink?” I ask
cautiously because I like the way my shampoo and conditioner smells, and I do
not intend to change it.

“No.
I like it.” And just like that, he saunters back over to the table, taking his
seat as if nothing just happened.

That
was weird. Choosing not to read anything into it, I take it as a compliment,
and shut the cabinet behind me.

After
I’ve fixed everyone’s plates, I set about making sure everyone has a glass of
sweet tea. “Hey y’all, it’s ready,” I call over to Wesley and Brantley.

“What?
You’re not going to serve me?” Brantley asks with a smirk and a twinkle in his
grey eyes.

I
know he’s joking with me, so I decide what’s good for the goose is good for the
gander. “Well, see, I would, but the last time I checked, I don’t have a ring
on my finger. I also happen to know that your legs work just fine, so if you’d
like, you can come and get your own food, or I’m sure Wes or Mr. Will can eat
what you don’t.”

His
eyes widen in surprise by my comment while a boisterous laugh erupts from Wes.
“Hell yeah, I’ll eat his, too,” Wes replies, pushing back from the table.

The
legs of Brantley’s chair scrape loudly against the floor as he rushes towards
the counter. I start laughing because I’ve never seen him move so fast. Just as
his hands touch his plate, I see him let out a heavy breath. “Brantley, you
know I was just kidding, right?” I didn’t mean to almost give him a heart
attack.

“Well,
I do now, but you can’t joke like that about food here in this house. When Wes
is home, it’s survival of the fittest,” he answers.

“Oh
come on, man. I’m not that bad and you know it,” Wes says, clapping Brantley on
the shoulder while picking up his own plate.

I
can’t help but laugh at the humor in Wes’ eyes and the panic in Brantley’s. I
know Brantley is over exaggerating the whole Wes-with-food scenario.

Picking
up my own plate, I ask before I go to sit down, “Sandy? Would you like me to
take Mr. Will his food?”

“Oh,
no, honey that’s fine. I’ll take it to him in a minute,” she answers, still
slicing potatoes, not once looking up.

I
pick up my food and drink, and join the guys at the table, listening intently
to their conversation. With a mouth full of food, I stop mid-chew when Wes looks
at me and asks, “What are you doing tonight?”

Holding
a finger in front of my mouth, I indicate for him to hold on while I swallow. I
take a drink of tea to help wash down my food. “I don’t have any plans. I
thought I might spend some time with Autumn.”

“Well,
there’s a bonfire tonight down by the creek. Brantley and I are goin’. So, why
don’t you come with us?”

“Yeah,
come on Kenleigh,” Brantley says enthusiastically.

“I’m
not sure. I don’t really party much.” I look between the two of them, hoping
they don’t push the issue.

“This
is your second summer here. Come on. It’ll be a good time,” Brantley says, with
his hands steepled under his chin as if he’s praying, begging me to go.

I
laugh at his ridiculous posture. “Okay, okay, I’ll go. You don’t have to beg
me, Brantley.” Before I can say anything more, I find myself lifted out of my
chair and thrown over Brantley’s shoulder. He shouts about how it’s going to be
the best bonfire he’s been to in ages. I can’t do anything except laugh.

“It
sure is,” Wes murmurs under his breath. I’m sure he didn’t intend for anyone to
hear him, but I did.

Upside
down, I crane my head in his direction. He sits there with an amused expression
on his face. When our eyes meet, a bright smile lights up my face. “You ready
to go and check out those horses?” Wes asks, standing up from the table.

While
blood rushes to my head from hanging upside down, I can’t seem to wipe the
smile from my face. “Sure.”

“Brant,
you got to let her down, man. Her face is as red as a rose,” Wes says, walking
around the table towards Brantley and me.

“Oh,
shit, I’m sorry, Kenleigh,” he says, placing me back on my feet.

The
blood rushing away from my face makes me lose my balance for a second. I feel
myself swaying as spots start to take over my vision. Without warning, two
strong arms wrap around my waist holding me upright. “Take a deep breath; it’ll
help.” Wes’ voice in my ear automatically helps to relieve the dizziness, but a
new feeling soon starts taking its place—safety. The warmth of his breath sends
a tingle down my spine and goose bumps crawl across my skin.