Dirty South (A Blue Collar Bad Boy Romance) (4 page)

Chapter Five

I can't believe I accepted a date with Boone Tillman. I
never thought that he'd be interested in someone like me...
an awkward
teenage girl
. Should I even be interested in someone who dismissed me so
easily?

Those words haunted me for years. I made it my mission to
understand what makes a woman beautiful and elegant. Now I can hold a
conversation with anyone, know just when to smile and when to playfully
chastise. No one could accuse me of being an awkward teenage girl now.

But sometimes it's almost like I'm two people. One that I've
created to fit in, and one...well, one that I don't know as much. Can I really
blame Boone for that, though? Hey, maybe I really am awkward!

And the fact that he's interested in me now is so
validating. When he looks at me, I get a high like nothing else I've ever felt.
Even though he's my father's business partner, and even though he's a total
player, I still can't wait to see him.

I put a final flick of black mascara on my eyelashes, and
head over to my bed to pull on my boots. I'll certainly be warm, but Boone said
to meet him at the stables, so I'm assuming we're going riding. As I stand and
walk to the door, my cell phone rings from my purse. I pull it out and check
the screen. It's Vernon. I wince. He called last night and I forgot to call him
back, and now really isn't a good time. I put my phone back in my bag and make
a pledge to myself to call him back tomorrow, first thing. It isn't fair to
keep him waiting.

It's just a twenty-minute drive in my dad's old BMW out to
Skidaway Island. I let my hand dangle out the window as I cross over the
causeway. I know this route well; Mrs. Hunt used to take me out here all the time
after school while my dad was still at work.

I slow down as I reach the road to the stables and peer out
the windows. I smile as I see Boone leading a stallion down from a trailer. Of
course he wouldn't use the horses they have for the public. I park in the lot
and give myself an appraising glance in the rearview mirror. I take just my
keys, stuffing them into my front pocket, and leave my purse in the car as I
lock the door behind me.

"Handsome," I comment as I near Boone, who's
petting the nose of the stallion.

"Why, thank you," he replies as he turns around.

"I meant the horse." Though the truth is, it could
more than apply to him. I don't think he's ever looked hotter than he does
right now, in just jeans and a white t-shirt. It reminds me of how he used to
look when I first saw him, back when he was working on my father's construction
site.

"I know, but I'm taking it anyway. I brought Annalise
for you," he says, nodding to the horse chewing on a low-hanging branch. I
walk over and let her sniff my face before heading around to her side.
"She might be a little tall but—" I stick one foot in the stirrup and
easily swing my leg over her back. "So you're a ringer, huh?"

I laugh. "I used to come down here almost every day
after school to practice." Boone swings his leg over the stallion.
"How'd you learn?"

"My grandfather had a small farm, and this one old nag.
I loved that horse. Come on," Boone nods toward a trail and I lean forward
in the saddle. Annalise steps forward immediately, and soon we're walking next
to Boone and his horse under the trees. The familiar movement of a horse
underneath me takes away my nerves, and I stroke Annalise's mane as we go.

"So you're just a lowly intern, huh?" he asks.

"Well, you've gotta start somewhere, right?"

"That's true enough. I started out working on one of
the Woodall construction sites."

I smile. "Is that right? How'd you make your way
up?"

"Oh, I was like a mosquito. Mason Woodall would try to
swat me away and I just kept coming back. Finally he took a meeting with me,
and the rest is history."

I can't resist... "So, what do you think of him? Mason
Woodall, I mean?"

He grins. "Well, he's traditional, that's for sure. I
take small steps, you know, computerizing one system there, streamlining
shipments here. But he's been more than generous to me. Really like a second
father." I wince, not wanting to think of Boone and I as related in any
way. "He's got a serious temper, though, and it's tough to know when he's
going to go off."

"He loses his temper with you?" I ask in surprise.
He does with me, and I'm not surprised it carries over to his work life, but
it's hard to picture Boone taking it.

He smiles. "He did once, when I first started working
in the office. I made it clear that if he ever spoke to me that way again, that
I'd be gone."

I wish I had that option
, I think to myself.

"Still, sometimes I like to escape out to the sites. I
love the challenge of the business side, but I don't belong in an office. And
it's nice to head out there once a week or to make sure I stay in touch with
what's happening." I steal a glance at the way his abs move to maintain
his posture, and he just catches my eye before I hurriedly look away. "I
thought I knew everyone in Savannah. You must have just moved here."

"Just graduated from college."

"Where'd you go? Massachusetts?"

"Massachusetts?" I repeat, confused.

"Your accent...it sounds like you've spend time up
North."

"Oh no, does it? I spent some time in Maine," I
acknowledge, "with my mom."

"My parents are divorced, too." He pauses.
"Well, technically, they were never married." To my surprise I see
him smile, and give him a questioning look. "It's funny, I usually don't
tell people that."

"I'm not one to judge," I tell him gently.

"Maybe I could sense that," he replies. "Plus
I did find you high as a kite at the Historical Society party, so I could
always blackmail you to keep quiet."

I laugh. "That wasn't like me, honestly! Or maybe it
was, I don't really know. It was Lynn Dunleaf's fault. You know Lynn?"

He grins. "I've seen her around. She's a kick. She's
quiet, but every now and then she'll just say something that's so spot
on."

"I like her, too. So, how'd the rest of your night turn
out?"

"You asked that so innocently!" he laughs. "You
know, it seemed that the moment had sort of passed, and we went our separate
ways."

"You struck out, huh? I can't imagine that happens
often."

He grins, and I shiver as I see his dimples appear on his
cheeks. "Not too often, no."

"So, am I getting the Boone Tillman experience right
now?

"What does that mean?"

"Oh, come on," I reply, leveling my gaze at him
until he grins.

"I mean, maybe horse-back riding is one of a few ways
to—"

"—Get a woman in the saddle?" I tease him.

"Not that that's what I'm—" I nudge Annalise
toward a narrow break between the trees before he can finish talking. I don't
want to walk along the same path he's taken all those other women on.
Literally.

"Callie, where are you going?" he yells after me,
as I urge Annalise into a trot.

"Come on!" I yell over my shoulder, and lean
forward in the saddle.

"That's not a trail!" he protests. Even after all
these years, I still know these woods better than he does, and just as Annalise
begins to canter, we break out into an open field. I push her into a gallop,
winding along the tree edge in a circle. I hear Boone let out a loud whoop
behind me, and soon his more powerful horse catches up with me. We let our
horses run side by side, free and stretching their muscles to the fullest.
Annalise gradually begins to slow down, and Boone gently reigns his horse in to
match her.

"This way," I tell him breathlessly, guiding her
at a trot through a break in the trees on the opposite side of the field. He
follows, and soon we arrive at a stream. I hope off Annalise, and let her
drink, patting her sweaty flanks.

"You really know your way around," Boone says,
meeting me in between our horses.

"I want to show you something," I tell him.

Chapter Six

I lead him up a gradual rocky incline. The trees grow sparser,
until finally we're standing on a broad rock overhanging the marshy land below.
From here, we have a perfect view of Skidaway River, and a narrow strip of
beach below.

Boone whistles. "How'd you know about this place?"

"After I learned how to ride, the instructors kind of
let me do my own thing. It was nice to just explore and be by myself. This is
probably my favorite place in the world. I can hear myself think out
here."

"Sounds like you were a loner."

I laugh. "Not by choice, exactly."

"What do you mean?" he asks, looking confused. His
eyebrows have a perfect little crease between them, and I look away to avoid
getting lost in his golden eyes.

"I wasn't the most popular girl at my school. I was
sort of nerdy, and, well, weird," I admit.

"I have a hard time picturing that," he says with
a grin.

I shrug. "I don't know if there's an equivalent for
boys, but with girls, around sixth grade it was like they all got this secret
message. Time to stop acting like a kid. Time to be ladylike, to stay quiet when
boys are around. And I didn't really understand what was going on."

"Seems like you understood eventually," he
observes quietly.

"Well, I decided it was important for me to
understand," I reply, staring out over the river, and thinking of how his rejection
was one of the reasons why. "Plus, I went to live with my mom, and she was
more than happy to teach me," I add, rolling my eyes.

"So you took your inner wild child and locked her
away," he says. I turn to look at him. His tone was light, but his gaze is
serious. He steps forward, and I almost lose my balance. "I like the wild
child. I'm guessing she's the one who sneaks off to smoke pot at parties and
can give me a run for my money on the back of a horse."

I stare up into his eyes, the wind blowing his light brown
hair onto his forehead. I feel...
seen.

He leans down ever so slowly, and his lips press against
mine. And this time it isn't a fantasy. Boone Tillman is really kissing me. His
lips are surprisingly soft and gentle. They massage mine, and then part.

His arm slips around my back, pulling me against him. Our
tongues touch, and I almost gasp. I could melt into him at any moment. I wrap
my arms around the back of his neck, running my fingers through his hair. I've
imagined this moment for years.

I feel his hand bunch up the fabric of my shirt against my
bra strap. Our mouths open wider, our tongues exploring. He tastes like
cinnamon. I want to feel him against every inch of my body.

Suddenly, he pulls back. He's breathing hard, and he puts
his hands on both sides of my waist as though he's steadying himself.

"I have an idea," he says.

"It better be a really good one," I reply.

He throws his head back in a laugh. "Just give me a
minute." To my surprise, he walks away and takes his phone out of his
pocket. I can't hear his conversation, but my interest is certainly piqued. I
take a deep breath and try not to giggle, wondering what my teenage self would
think of this moment.

"Alright, now it's my turn," he says, walking back
and putting his phone in his pocket. He extends his hand, palm up. I smile, and
place mine in his. His hands are shockingly rough, from years of working
construction, no doubt. He leads me back over the stones and down to our
horses, not letting go until the last moment.

Silently, we saddle up, and he nods over his shoulder.
Annalise naturally follows his stallion's lead, and I look around
absentmindedly at the spreading shadows from the trees. My gaze falls onto the
back of Boone's head, and his wide shoulders. My body is aching for him, but my
mind is starting to shout out all the reasons that I should stop now and head
home.

When we get back to the trail, he heads in the other
direction, away from the stables. At the next fork, he takes the left trail,
and I realize where we're going. We reach the campsite after a couple miles,
and in the setting sun, I can see a small fire being stoked by a shadowy
figure. I glance around. The rest of the campsites are empty.

"It's usually busier this time of year," I note.

"I didn't want us to be disturbed," he says with a
smile, his white teeth catching the last of the sun. I frown. Is he saying he
reserved all the campsites just to get me alone? "And before you ask, no.
This is not part of the normal 'Boone Tillman experience' as you put it."

I shake my head, but the truth is, I had been wondering. I
hop off my horse, and Boone takes the reins and hands them to the man by the
fire.

"Thanks, Raoul," he says quietly, and Raoul
murmurs something back to him. I look around the fire. There are soft blankets
spread on the ground and up against the large logs that provide seating. Raoul
walks away, leading the horses, and soon I hear the sound of an engine.
"Dinner," Boone says, taking a couple baskets from behind a log.

"You have excellent taste in horses," I say,
settling onto a blanket as he unpacks the food, and a bottle of red wine.

"I always wanted horses of my own. My grandfather had
to sell his eventually, just to keep his land." He glances at me. "I
didn't grow up with very much money, so it's nice to be able to spend it."

"What was the first thing you bought, when you did have
money?" I ask.

"I paid off the rest of the mortgage on the farm.
Would've bought the horse back, too, but he had passed by then."

I tilt my head, feeling impressed. "So is that where
you grew up, on the farm?"

"Sometimes. And sometimes with my mom, when she had her
act together enough. My dad wasn't around. Then later, a few foster homes a
couple hours outside the city."

"What about your grandfather?"

"You mean why didn't I live with him?" I nod.
"He was a fine man, and tried his best, but he wasn't much of a caretaker.
He was starting to get dementia, and sometimes he'd just forget about making
meals for a couple days. The caseworker visited and thought it wasn't a good environment."
He leans back against a log and hands me a glass of wine. I sit next to him,
and feel his arm drape around my back.

"Did you always plan on getting into
construction?"

"Well, I planned on finding some security. Construction
was one of the only jobs I could get, but I found I loved it. I like building
something that feels permanent. And then I started to see things in the
business I thought could be done better, and I started doing my own research
and taking some classes... and now here I am."

"Simple as that, huh?" I smile, thinking of how
many hardships he must be leaving out.

"Pretty much," he grins. I take a long sip of my
wine, feeling its smoky flavor run down my throat. We start picking at the
food, and gradually I find myself relaxing into him. A couple of hours later,
I'm in a tipsy state of bliss, my legs hanging over his, and his hand tangled
in my hair as he rubs my neck.

"Tell me truthfully, Boone," I say, running my finger
down the side of his cheek. He always seems to have just the slightest bit of
stubble. "This the first time you've brought a date here?"

"First time. I swear, Callie," he says seriously.

"I'd like us to be honest with each other," I say
carefully.

"Me too," he replies quietly. I feel his hand
reach up to grasp mine. "I think this could be something real."

I feel a surge of warmth in my body even as the color drains
from my face. "Wait, what?" I whisper.

He searches my eyes, looking taken aback. "Or maybe
not."

I untwine my legs from his and lean back against the log.
"Is that... is that just something you say to women? Like 'I'll call you
tomorrow'?"

"No, it's not," he says flatly, staring down at
his hands. Suddenly, he turns to me. "You really don't feel a connection
here?" He reaches forward and places his hand across my heart.

I bite my lip and pull back. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't
have even come today." I stand up and look around, feeling frantic.

Boone jumps up. "What are you talking about? What's going
on?"

"It's nothing. It's just... too complicated, alright?
You're Upland's client now—"

"That's it? Just because of Upland? I can find another
firm to work with."

"No! No, please don't. I just can't explain right now,
OK? I just need to go home." I fight back tears. I feel wretched. I knew
coming here that Boone and I could never have a real relationship, and then I
pressed him to make me feel special, and now I've led him on. I just never
expected that he would actually fall for me.

He stares at me for a moment. He looks as though he's going
to ask me another question, but instead he pulls out his cell phone. "Can
you pull the car around?" he says into it. "Thanks."

We stand in a horrible silence for what feels like forever.
Finally, I hear the sound of an engine and headlights flickering through the
trees. A black Mercedes, looking completely at odds with its surroundings,
pulls up on the dirt road to the campsite. Raoul rolls down the driver's side
window, and I follow Boone as he walks toward him.

"You take her back to her car, alright? I'll take care
of the horses," he says, then opens the rear door for me. I want to say
something, but his expression is so closed off. I silently get in the back
seat.