She was even more beautiful up close. Her eyes sparkled, her hair glowed in the sunlight, and her long legs looked like heaven in those frayed white shorts. She was almost as tall as me, even in sandals, and the way she held her mouth when she spoke, coupled with her full lips, was sexy as hell.
I took her hand and shook it once. “America?”
She smirked. “Go ahead. Make a dirty joke. I’ve heard them all.”
“Have you heard, ‘I’d love to fuck you for liberty’?” Travis asked.
I elbowed him, trying to keep a straight face.
America noticed my gesture. “Yes, actually.”
“So … are you accepting my offer?” Travis teased.
“No,” America said without hesitation.
Yes. She’s perfect.
“What about my cousin?” Travis asked, shoving me so hard that I had to sidestep.
“C’mon,” I said, almost begging. “Excuse him,” I said to America. “We don’t let him out much.”
“I can see why. Is he really your cousin?”
“I try not to tell people, but yes.”
She scanned Travis and then turned her attention back to me. “So, are you going to tell me your name?”
“Shepley. Maddox,” I added as an afterthought.
“What are you doing for dinner, Shepley?”
“What am I doing for dinner?” I asked.
Travis nudged me with his arm.
I shoved him off me. “Fuck off!”
America giggled. “Yes, you. I’m definitely not asking your cousin on a date.”
“Why not?” Travis asked, feigning insult.
“Because I don’t date toddlers.”
Darius cackled, and Travis smiled, unfazed. He was being a dick on purpose to make me look like Prince Charming. The perfect wingman.
“Do you have a car?” she asked.
“I do,” I said.
“Pick me up in front of Morgan Hall at six.”
“Yeah … yeah, I can do that. See you then,” I said.
She was already saying good-bye to Finch and walking away.
“Holy shit,” I breathed. “I think I’m in love.”
Travis sighed, and with a slap, he gripped the back of my neck. “Of course you do. Let’s go.”
America
Freshly cut grass, asphalt baking in the sun, and exhaust fumes—those were the smells that would remind me of the moment Shepley Maddox stepped out of his black vintage Charger and jogged up the steps of Morgan Hall to where I stood.
His eyes scanned over my pale blue maxi dress, and he smiled. “You look great. No, better than great. You look like I’d better bring my A game.”
“You look average,” I said, noting his polo and what were likely his dress jeans. I leaned in. “But you smell amazing.”
His cheeks flushed dark enough to show through his bronze skin, and he offered a knowing smile. “I’ve been told I look average. It won’t deter me from having dinner with you.”
“You have?”
He nodded.
“They were lying. Just like me.” I passed him, heading down the steps.
Shepley hurried past me, reaching the door handle of the passenger side before I could. He tugged on it, opening the door wide in one motion.
“Thank you,” I said, sitting in the passenger seat.
The leather felt cool against my skin. The interior had been freshly vacuumed and polished, and it smelled like generic air freshener.
When he sat in his seat and turned to me, I couldn’t help but smile. His enthusiasm was adorable. Kansas boys weren’t so … eager.
By the golden tone of his skin and his solid arm muscles that bulged every time he moved them, I decided he must have worked outside all summer—maybe baling hay or loading something heavy. His hazel-green eyes practically glowed, and his dark hair—although not as short as Travis’s—had been lightened by the sun, reminding me of Abby’s warm caramel color.
“I was going to take you to the Italian place here in town, but it’s cooled off enough outside to … I … I just wanted to hang out and get to know you instead of being interrupted by a waiter. So, I did that,” he said, nodding to the backseat. “I hope it’s okay.”
I tensed, turning slowly to see what he was talking about. In the middle of the bench seat, secured with a seat belt, was a covered woven basket sitting on a thickly folded blanket.
“A picnic?” I said, unable to hide the surprise and delight in my voice.
He breathed out, relieved. “Yeah. Is that okay?”
I flipped around in the seat, bouncing once as I faced forward. “We’ll see.”
Shepley drove us to a private pasture just south of town. He parked in a narrow gravel drive and stepped out just long enough to unlock the gate and push it open. The Charger’s engine growled as he drove down two parallel lines of bare ground amid the acres of tall grass.
“You’ve worn down a path, huh?”
“This land belongs to my grandparents. There’s a pond at the bottom where Travis and I used to go fishing all the time.”
“Used to?”
He shrugged. “We’re the youngest grandkids. We lost both sets of grandparents by the time we were in middle school. Besides being busy with sports and classes in high school, it just felt wrong to fish out here without Papa.”
“I’m sorry,” I said. I still had all my grandparents, and I couldn’t imagine losing any of them. “Both sets? You mean, all three sets?” I said, wondering aloud. “Oh God, I’m sorry. That was rude.”
“No, no … it’s a valid question. I get that a lot. We’re double cousins. Our dads are brothers, and our moms are sisters. I know. Weird, huh?”
“No, that’s pretty great actually.”
After we cleared a small hill, Shepley parked the Charger under a shady tree ten yards from a five-ish-acre pond. The summer heat had helped grow the cattails and lily pads, and the water was beautiful, wrinkling in the light breeze.
Shepley opened my door, and I stepped out onto freshly mowed grass. As I looked around, he ducked into the backseat, reappearing with the basket and a quilt. His arms were free of any tattoos, also unlike his heavily inked cousin. I wondered if there were any under his shirt. Then I had the sudden urge to remove his clothes to find the answer.
He spread the multicolored quilt with one flick, and it fell perfectly to the ground.
“What?” he asked. “Is it—”
“No, this is amazing. I’m just … that quilt is so beautiful. I don’t think I should sit on it. It looks brand-new.” The fabric was still crisp and bore creases where it had been folded.
Shepley puffed out his chest. “My mom made it. She’s made dozens. She made this for me when I graduated. It’s a replica.” His cheeks flushed.
“Of what?”
As soon as I asked the question, he winced.
I tried not to smile. “It’s a bigger version of your childhood blankie, isn’t it?”
He closed his eyes and nodded. “Yeah.”
I sat down on the quilt and crossed my legs, patting the space beside me. “C’mere.”
“I’m not sure I can. I think I just died of embarrassment.”