One True Thing (14 page)

“Sure.” I shrug. “They’ve been doing it that way as long as I can remember.”

“And nobody steals the vegetables? Or the money?”

“No.” I guess I’d never really thought about it.

He grins. “What a crazy place.”

I pull a couple of pods off the vine and crack them open revealing the row of tiny round peas attached inside. “Here, try a couple,” I say, scraping them out with my thumb.

“Raw?” Ty asks, cupping some in his hand.

“The best way,” I say, popping them into my mouth. They burst with an earthy, sweet taste all over my tongue that reminds me of home.

“Pretty good,” Ty says, chewing his. He bends down to get another pod, but jumps back quickly. “Holy shit!” He grabs me and pulls me out of the row. “There’s a rattler down there!”

I see a thin, gray body curving through the plants. “That’s not a rattler.” I shrug off Ty’s hand and step toward it. The snake isn’t going anywhere in a hurry, just lazing through the garden soaking up the sun. I stand very still and then jump on it, pinching it behind the head and lifting it off the dirt. It’s only about three feet long—must still be a juvenile.

“Oh my God!” Ty says, taking a stumbling step back. “What did you do?”

I hold it out to him as it opens its mouth and tries to twist its head around. “It’s just a rat snake.”

Ty stands his ground. “That thing’s huge! Put it down!”

I can’t help but laugh at him. “It’s just a baby. Seriously—rat snakes get up to six feet long.” When I hold it out the tail barely grazes the ground. “I can’t believe you’re scared of it.”

Ty puts his hands on his hips and stares at me. “I’m not scared of it,” he says. “But that doesn’t mean I want to go all Crocodile Dundee on the thing and capture it with my bare hands.”

I wiggle it at him and he flinches. “Bull. You’re scared of a little snake.”

His eyes go wide. “I’m not scared. But just put it down.”

I take a step forward. “Touch it first.”

“Seriously?”

“Yes. Just touch it with one finger and then I’ll let it go.”

Ty shakes his head but takes a step forward. “Fine.” He reaches out one hand to touch the tail so I shake it again and he jumps back. “Stop that!”

“Sorry.” I try my best not to laugh at him. “I’ll hold it still. I promise.”

He glares at me, but reaches one finger forward and strokes the snake quickly on the back. “There. Now let it go.”

“Nice job,” I say and then walk back to the row of vegetables to let it go. The snake doesn’t seem to be scared, even after its harrowing capture, but just flicks its tongue as it disappears through the leaves. “All gone,” I say, holding my hands up. “You big baby.”

“Right,” Ty says. “You come to San Francisco and I’ll drop you off in the Tenderloin. We’ll see who’s a big baby then.”

“You’ve got a deal,” I say, brushing past him. We walk toward the big garage that straddles the property and holds the giant tractors that Gramps has collected over the years.

“That’s cool,” Ty says, pointing to an old green John Deere. We walk over to it and Ty pats the metal seat with the yellow paint, faded from many years sitting in the sun. “I’ve always wanted to drive one of these.”

“You’re easy,” I say. I climb in the seat, press the clutch and turn the key that’s sitting in the rusted ignition. The whole machine shakes like a wet dog as it comes to life. “Go ahead,” I say. “Take it out.”

Ty climbs up beside me and I stand up to let him sit down. “Hop on,” he says, patting his leg.

I grin and sit sideways on his lap as the machine jerks into motion. I’m not sure if it’s just the fact that I’m sitting on him or the vibrations of the tractor, but I can feel his hard-on blooming before we can even cross the yard. Ty drives the tractor in a wide arc around the grass and parks it back by the garage, the whole thing shuddering as he turns the key. He starts to get up, but I press him back against the seat, turning around to straddle him as I lean forward to kiss him. I’m more than aware that there’s only a thin layer of fabric between us as my hand burrows under his shirt and grazes his rock-hard abs.

“We should go,” Ty says, and I can see he’s starting to lose control.

The Connolly’s across the street pull into their driveway, so I sit back on his knees. “I’ve never been more turned-on by a tractor,” I say with a grin. The doors to the Connolly’s truck slam and I slide off him, waving as they call hello.

Ty gets up, and I can see his knees shaking from the effort of holding back. I’ve never felt more powerful in my life.


                    
 

The screen door slams behind me as I carry the crock pot of beans over to Gram’s. I’ve lost track of Ty while I’ve been helping her and Mom make supper and I hope he’s okay, not sitting around somewhere with nothing to do.

“Here you go,” I say, setting it on the counter. Gram’s working the assembly line for her secret-recipe buttermilk fried chicken, getting everything ready before she pops the first batch into the sizzling oil. “Have you guys seen Tyler?”

Gram jerks her head to the left. “Last I saw him he was out back with your Gramps.”

I squeeze my eyes shut, picturing him trapped under one of Gramps lectures on the dissolution of God and country. “I’m going to find him.”

“Okay,” Mom says, opening the oven a crack to check on the biscuits. “But we’re going to need your help in a few minutes.”

“I’ll be back,” I say, heading to the porch. I can hear voices coming from around the side of the house and when I turn the corner I see Gramps leaning over the open hood of his truck, the sleeves of his work shirt rolled up past his elbows.

“You see anything?” Gramps asks. I look around, but I don’t see anyone else out here.

“Yeah,” a muffled voice calls from somewhere. There’s a metallic banging and then Ty slides out from under the truck, a smear of black grease on his forehead. “Looks like the return spring’s broken. You should probably get her up on the lift at the shop to take a better look.”

“I will, son,” Gramps says. “I was thinking it was a bent brake shoe, but that makes a helluva lot more sense. My old mind must be going.”

“Gramps!” I call, walking out to them. “Why are you putting Ty to work already?”

“It’s not work,” Ty says, sitting up and wiping his hands with a dirty rag. “This is a 1956 Ford F-100. It’s an honor to get a closer look at her.”

“I know what it is,” I say. “I learned to drive in this truck. And you’re a guest here—he has no business making you climb under it.”

“Now you just leave him be,” Gramps says. “The boy just wanted to help out an old man and I’m nice enough to accept.” He unhooks the hood and slams it down. “Who knew a city boy would know so much about old machinery anyhow?”

Ty looks at the truck in the exact same way he looked at me in my room. “She’s a beauty. My dad has a few vintage cars—a ’65 Thunderbird and a ’59 DeVille most recently, and we used to work on them together back when I lived at home. He dug out a garage under our house so that he could keep them off the street.”

Gramps winks at me. “I like that kind of dedication. Seems like your dad and me would get along just fine.”

I shake my head, knowing when I’ve been beaten. “Well you’re going to have to clean up in about twenty minutes,” I say. “Gram is going to have supper on the table and you know how she is when you come in full of dirt and grease.”

“Don’t you worry,” Gramps says gruffly. “I’ll get your boyfriend here scrubbed up good before supper.”

Boyfriend. The word sends a jolt through me. I know that’s what we’re pretending to be, but is it more than that now? I glance at Ty, but he doesn’t react at all.

“Fine,” I say. They seem to be getting along okay, so I guess I’ll leave them alone. “Twenty minutes.”

I hear them laughing about something as I walk back into the house. And I’m relieved. But not surprised I guess. Ty seems to be able to get along with everyone.

Chapter
Thirteen (Ty)

I roll over to face the back of the couch, my feet kicking one armrest while my head butts up against the other one. Jenna’s mom set me up with a soft blanket and a feather pillow, but I have a feeling that I’m not going to get much sleep tonight. I’m listening to the hum of the fan in the corner of the room and my eyes are starting to close when I hear the soft click of a door opening and I turn to see a dark figure in the dim light from the hallway.

“You awake?” Jenna whispers.

“Yeah,” I say, sitting up on the couch.

“Come with me,” she says, holding out one hand and pulling me to my feet. She’s got something rolled up under her arm and we pick our way carefully through the darkened house and out through the screen porch.

“Where are we going?” I whisper, catching sight of her tiny flannel shorts and flimsy camisole in the backyard light. I can see the soft swell of her ass peeking out of the shorts as she walks so I look away and try to think of something besides the fact we’re alone in the dark on a warm Texas night.

“You’ll see,” she whispers, reaching over and flipping off the outside lights as my bare feet hit the cool, soft grass. I’m wearing gray sweatpants and nothing else—the night is so nice it doesn’t matter.

There are no streetlights in this part of town, so it’s pretty pitch black out here, but I can see the dark shape of the big backyard tree looming in front of us.

“Hold this,” Jenna says, handing me the rolled up sleeping bag as she walks to the backside of the tree and starts climbing on the thin wooden rungs.

“Up the tree?”

She looks down at me from fifteen feet up. “What? Are you scared?”

“No.” I’m not a huge fan of heights, but scared isn’t the word I’d use here. Confused. Apprehensive. Totally turned on. All of those would apply. I watch as she disappears onto the wooden platform, then her head pops over the edge.

“Throw that up and start climbing.”

I toss the bag up to her and climb the ladder, my feet slipping a couple of times on the tiny rungs. By the time I make it to the platform, Jenna has the sleeping bag unzipped and spread out over the floor of the tree house. “What are we doing?” I laugh a little, but at this point I’m seriously not sure I want to start something with her up here. I might not be able to stop.

She shrugs in the darkness. “I just thought you might want some fresh air.” Jenna reaches over and unties a rope and a mosquito net drops down over the inside from a high point in the ceiling like a see-through tent. It’s not so much a tree house as a wooden platform with half-sides and a roof. The top walls are all open and you can see all over the neighborhood from up here.

“This is cool,” I say, still not entirely sure what she has in mind. I flop down on the sleeping bag and look around the little room high in the sky. “Gramps built this?”

“We both did,” she says proudly, pointing to the sky that’s visible through the trees. “There’s your stars.”

I lie back and look at the stars, no sound but the wind rustling through the leaves. “Still beautiful.”

“It is,” she says, settling in next to me, the warmth from her body making my skin tingle. We’re entering dangerous territory now, but I’m feeling reckless.

I turn over and prop myself on one elbow. “I wasn’t talking about the sky.”

I can feel her smile in the faint moonlight, so I bend toward her, finding her lips and pulling her toward me as I kiss her. Jenna’s tongue pushes past my lips as she rolls on top of me, straddling my stomach with her bare legs. Sitting up straight, she crosses her arms and pulls off her top in one motion, her long hair falling over her perfect, bare breasts.

I reach up and run one finger down her chest, her nipples already hard as I cup them in my hands. Jenna watches me, her fingers lightly exploring my stomach, and bends to take one of my nipples in her mouth. I groan and squirm a little as her tongue flicks my skin—there is no way to lie still and be good with her warm, moist breath on me. I hold both of her arms and she stops, looking down at me.

“What are we doing here?” I ask, fully conscious of the darkness, of the fact that we’re up here alone with the breeze rustling through the trees and the stars overhead. “I thought we were taking it slow.”

“I think,” she says, bending over me again, her tongue moving over one nipple and then tracing a trail across my chest to the other. “That slow is overrated.”

I can feel my breath coming shallow as I fight for control. There’s nothing I want more than to explore all of her, but I don’t want to be back where we were after last time. “Are you sure?”

Jenna lifts her body off mine enough to get one hand on my sweats, stroking the length of my cock through the fabric. “Positive.”

That’s all I need to hear. I hook two fingers over the waistband of her shorts and ease them down over her thighs until she can kick them off, running one hand over the swell of her firm ass and into the warmth between her thighs.

Gently, I roll her over until I’m on top, looking down at her. She looks beautiful, spread out on the sleeping bag wearing nothing but her black lace panties. My lips find her nipple, already as hard as a button on the firm swell of her breast, and I drink in the scent of her as I work my way down her body one inch of perfect milky skin at a time. Her panties are already wet when I run my tongue over them, tasting the salt and sea and hearing her moan as I work the folds through the thin fabric. I run one hand down her thigh and trace the edge of the elastic with my finger before pulling her legs together and easing the lace off of her body and onto the tree house floor. I can feel her eyes on me as I run one hand over her smooth leg trying to make this moment last as long as possible. I put both hands on her inner thighs and ease them open, running my fingers up her stomach as I settle in between them, tasting her skin for the first time. I feel her muscles tense, but her legs drop open as I dart into her with my tongue and then find the perfect spot, the one that makes her body arch up to reach me as I suck and lick until I feel her hands on me head, her fingers raking my scalp. I pull back a little and I can hear her breath coming in short bursts. She’s soaking wet as I ease three fingers into the warmth of her body, her muscles pushing back against me as my tongue finds its rhythm. It doesn’t take long as I press into her with my hand and her body ripples and contracts against my fingers, my lips pressed against her clit as she bucks and moans while she comes with a ferocious shudder.