Roots and Wings (City Limits #1)(58)



I hoped that whatever we were doing would last a little while, because the more he said things like that, the more I believed him.

We went inside and I used the bathroom to wash up. Our adventure on the boat had been a little messy. What I really wanted was another shower, but decided I’d rather get back to him.

I didn’t want the night to end. Something in my mind always told me I needed to take advantage of the time he was there. Even though, over the past few weeks, whenever I wanted to see him all I had to do was say the words.

But I was realistic and knew it couldn’t last forever.

It was only ten o’clock, but after the boat, I was ready to settle down. Ready to crawl up next to him. Ready to listen to him talk to me as I fell asleep.

I found him sitting on the deck, so I grabbed the blanket off the cooler and wrapped it around my arms. It was still warm, but the breeze was a little stronger and it was cooling off.

I went to sit on the other chair, but stopped when Vaughn said, “No. Please, come here.” He sat back and opened his arms for me, and I couldn’t deny him.

Would I ever get used to him wanting to be close to me? Probably about the time he would change his mind.





Hannah climbed on my lap sideways. It was funny, sometimes she seemed so strong and powerful, and then, in times like that, she seemed so fragile and small. She curled into me, laying her head on my chest, and I stroked her thick, wavy hair, enjoying how she let me care for her.

After a little while of watching the water go by and listening to her breathe, she said, “Vaughn, tell me more stuff about you.”

I thought and thought. There wasn’t that much to tell, but maybe I could kind of explain what I was looking for in Wynne. Why it was important to me.

“When I was a kid, I had a best friend named Pete. He lived close to me and we hung out together a lot. In the summer, I’d go with him to his grandparents’ farm. They lived near a small town just like this one. That might be why I like it so much.”

She lay there quietly as I began speaking about my favorite childhood memories.

”We’d ride our bikes all day and build real tree houses and forts with extra wood his grandpa had around. They had dinner every night at five thirty and went to church every Sunday. We were Catholic—or bad Catholics as my mom used to say—so we rarely went.

“I’m not a really religious guy. I believe what I do, but I always liked going when I was at Pete’s grandparents’. They’d go and then usually everyone would end up at someone’s house and we’d eat and play in town until it got dark.

“I guess that’s what I wanted my life to look like.” She looked up at me and I could see she was listening—really hearing—what I was telling her. Her eyes roamed my face and a lazy grin bent the corners of her lovely lips.

“I know times have changed, and life is busier and more complicated than it looked at seven or eight, but they were a real family.

“My parents got divorced when I was nine. My dad moved to Columbus, and my mom remarried pretty fast to a guy who didn’t have kids. They travelled a lot and left me with sitters. My dad worked too much, so if I spent time there, it was usually by myself. Both my parents were only children, so I didn’t have cousins I could go spend time with.

“Then in high school Pete moved, his parents got a different job or something—I can’t remember now—and I pretty much just studied and played sports to keep busy.”

I could tell she didn’t like that part; compassion mired her features. Her bottom lip making an adorable pout.

“His grandparents still invited me there that next summer, but I think we both had some kind of sports camp we had to attend and the dates didn’t line up. Even after all of those years, I still think of them.”

I wanted her to understand, that even though she thought her town might not have much to offer, the sense of community and belonging was what I wanted.

“What happened to Pete?” she asked, with curious eyes before she yawned.

“He lives in Houston. Has a wife and a couple of kids. We still talk every once in a while. I was in his wedding.” I think the fact that we were still friends made her smile.

She said, “Good,” as she lay her head back down. And then she wrapped an arm around my back and covered both of us with the blanket.

“That’s really why you moved here. The job worked out, but I’m sure you had other options.”

I had, but she was right. I’d been waiting until there was a little town, where I could move. Fix up a house and start a real family.

One that I could hold together.

One that was mine.

“I think you’re right.”

She fell asleep in my arms, and I sat awake in the chair on the deck for a long time and let her rest. The soft rise and fall of her chest and the way her hold on me never weakened gave me a new feeling. Something peaceful and something worth working hard to keep.

I realized I wanted her to love me, and I wanted to love her back, but also knew we had some time to kill between now and then.

In just those few short weeks, she’d already become someone I cared about. Someone who made time go faster together, and slower when we were apart.

I had a desire to give her things, show her places she’d never been, make her laugh and hear her say my name thousands of times, like she had on the boat.

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