Stick in the Mud Meets Spontaneity (Meet Your Match, book 3) (14 page)

They found their seats, and Colton sat snug beside her on the bench. Their shoulders bumped every time they moved, causing an echoing thump in her heart. It was difficult to concentrate on the rodeo with the scents of leather and soap in the air, the touch of his arm against hers, and the sight of the smile he flashed her way.

“You’ve got to love the diversity of people who gather at rodeos,” Colton said, apparently not as affected as her.

Sam forced her gaze to the stands surrounding the arena. There were old people and young people, dressed-up people and dressed-down people, blue-collars, white-collars, and rednecks. Babies hollered, kids squabbled, and adults chatted. It occurred to Sam that the rodeo was a place for anyone and everyone. She liked that. She liked the energy that buzzed through arena when the emcee’s voice sounded through the loudspeakers. And she liked her date. A lot.

Colton was great about explaining each event, along with the judging process. Between events, they talked about life in college and how great it had been to grow up in Colorado Springs. They laughed at the clown and the wild cow-milking fiasco and sipped lemonade slushies during intermission. They gasped when riders were thrown from broncs or charged by bulls and sighed when the rodeo ended without contributing to the three deaths per year.

Dust and the smell of livestock lingered in the air as Colton guided her through the crowds with his palm on the small of her back, and Sam felt like she’d never been on a more perfect date. As they crossed through the parking lot, his hand found hers again.

During the drive home, he asked her about her family, and she asked him about what it was like to grow up in the country and go to school in the city. He pulled to a stop in front of her house, and they continued to talk about trivial things and serious things, funny things and nothing in particular.

It wasn’t until Sam’s phone vibrated with a text from her mother that she realized how late—or early—it was.

“Oh, wow. It’s already one o’clock. I’m so sorry I’ve kept you up so late.”

“Don’t be,” said Colton. “I’m not.”

“You’ll probably be singing a different tune when your alarm clock goes off in the morning.” She pushed the door open and hopped out. Colton met her outside and wrapped an arm around her shoulders as they sauntered up the walk. On the porch, he pulled her into a tight bear hug, resting his chin on top of her head.

The clean, leathery scent that had teased her all night long filled her nostrils, and his strong, warm body felt like a perfect complement to hers.

What would tomorrow bring? Or the next day? Or the next? If he asked her out again, would she say yes?

“Thanks for giving me an opportunity to ride a bull, and for being so upfront and honest about it.” Her palms slid from around his back to his chest, where they lingered. “I have to admit, you had me worried for a minute.”

“I had you sweating, you mean.”

“I never sweat. That’s not ladylike. I only perspire.” She tapped his chest with her finger then stepped out of his arms and into early morning air that felt cool and a little bit scratchy. Only a few hours earlier, the air had been perfect. Not too cold, not too hot. Just inviting, invigorating, and welcoming. Now, sans Colton, it had lost its coziness.

The sound of her phone vibrating in her purse filled the silence, reminding Sam that she hadn’t texted her mother back. “That’s my mom. She’s a worrier. I should go.”

Colton leaned in, and his lips hovered near hers for a moment before landing softly on her cheek at the side of her mouth. “Goodnight Samantha,” he whispered before walking away.

Her cheek pulsed where he’d touched it, and her chest rose and fell as though he’d just left a searing kiss on her lips. She touched the spot tentatively and chided her emotions. It was a peck on the cheek! A peck!
Something her grandma or father would have given her. Nothing to get all shaky over.

But it hadn’t felt like a simple peck. It had felt like a beginning.

Sam had been on good dates before. Even great dates. She’d crawled in bed with a smile on her face, thinking back on a particular guy and how fun he’d been or how great he’d kissed. Sometimes, she’d even dreamed about him.

But until now, nobody had ever kept her from sleeping.

Even though she hadn’t known Colton long—three weeks was nothing—Sam felt like the strands of her soul had snaked out and connected with someone else’s—a solid enough connection that it made her worry about the distance between Colorado and New York and how far that connection could be stretched before it broke.

Years ago, on the night of Sam’s sixteenth birthday, her mother had walked into her room and pulled Sam’s journal from her bookcase. She’d plopped down at the foot of Sam’s bed and handed the journal to her daughter.

“You’re moving into an important phase of your life where you’ll start thinking about the future and what kind of person you’ll want to walk down the aisle toward someday. I want you to date a lot—all different kinds of people—and every time you do, I want you to come home and write down the qualities of that person you liked or didn’t like—the qualities that are important to you in a future husband and father. Yes, attraction is important, but I want you to look deeper than that. Harder. Go beyond good hair, handsome faces, and great bodies and into minds and hearts. How does he treat other people? How does he treat you? Is he driven? Does he care about learning, about improving, about working hard and doing his best? Does he care about you and your opinions and how you feel? Does he have faith in God? Is he a good person? Does he see the real you?”

Sam fingered the journal. Her mother was rarely this serious, and Sam wasn’t sure how to respond. “Wow, this is kind of a deep conversation for midnight.”

Her mother had leaned forward and placed a hand on Sam’s knee. “The kind of guy you decide to date and eventually marry will affect the rest of your life. Whatever you do,
don’t
make that decision lightly. Take your time. Become the kind of person you’d want to marry and find someone whose strengths will make you better, someone whose weaknesses complement yours. Find someone you can really connect with—physically, emotionally, and intellectually. And then date him a long time to make sure.”

Her mother gave her knee a squeeze. “Sam, you’re beautiful and spunky and confident. You’re going to attract all sorts of guys. Weed out the creeps, date the others, and keep a list. It will change and evolve as you grow and mature, but one day you’ll meet someone different—someone special—someone who has the most important qualities you’ve written down and throws in some extras that you hadn’t thought of before. He won’t be perfect, and neither will you, but he’ll be the sort of man you can count on to stick by your side through all the bumps and lumps of life. Be wise. It’s the most important decision you’ll ever make.”

After her mother had left, Sam propped up her pillows, borrowed a pen from her nightstand, and tapped it against her lower lip as she considered her mother’s words. Then she began The List—one that had evolved over the years just like her mother had said it would. She’d crossed out some things, revised others, and added to it.

The only time she hadn’t pulled out the journal after a date was tonight.

Through the darkness, Sam could make out the white outlines of her bookcase. Even though she couldn’t see the journal, she knew exactly where it was located. It seemed to call out to her, telling her to open it up and take a look.

But Sam didn’t need to open it up to see. She had The List memorized.

Good sense of humor. Makes me smile and laugh.

Someone I connect with

Tall, dark, and handsome.
(Meant as a joke in the beginning, then later changed to)
Attractive

Treats me with respect

Loves kids, especially Adi and Kajsa. And Maxwell and Georgia.

Is not obsessed with Taylor Swift
(She eventually crossed this out because she couldn’t imagine meeting another guy with a room plastered in Taylor Swift paraphernalia. He’d only asked Sam out because she sort of looked like the teen icon. Gag.)

Appreciates good art.
(After she’d taken Damien to an art exhibit, she’d added,)
Even if I have to explain why it’s good.

Works hard

A great kisser
(Added after Milton had given her the goodnight kiss of all goodnight kisses. Who would have thought someone named Milton could have kissed like that?)

Athletic.
Into sports like basketball or running.
Wants to be healthy and active.
(Revised after dating Rex—a lover of yoga and long walks)

Shows kindness to everyone, especially his family.
(After Steven came to a summer barbeque and didn’t make an effort to get to know anyone, Sam added,)
And mine

Has to be willing to watch what I want to watch sometimes
(Added after Clayton reluctantly agreed to watch
The Princess Bride
and ended up loving it)

Cares about school and learning

Supports me in my goals
(Added after Weston tried to talk her out of accepting what turned out to be a fantastic summer internship)

Loves to have fun.
(Then, after she dated the all-about-fun-and-nothing-else Brian, added,)
But also has a serious side

A great cook
(Added after Beckett made her the most amazing fried tacos she’d ever tasted. If only he’d had some of the other qualities on her list.)

Sam knew that if she pulled out that journal and let Colton factor in, her mother’s words, spoken so long ago, would be like an ancient prophesy that was finally coming true.
One day you’ll meet someone different—someone special—someone who has the most important qualities you’ve written down and throws in some extras that you hadn’t thought of before
. Sam began to think of all the extras.

Rides mechanical bulls with finesse

Tames wild horses

Looks amazing in a cowboy hat and Wranglers.

Has a laugh that stops people in their tracks. In a good way.

Cares about animals

Lives in the cutest little shack ever built

Has the patience of Job

Can win over my parents in a matter of minutes

Someone I can talk to for hours, but it feels like only minutes

The only problem was that Sam had another list—one that had been imbedded in her mind rather than scribbled on paper. It didn’t need adaptations or revisions. It had been the same ever since she decided what she wanted to be when she grew up.

Get accepted to a good graphic design program

Maintain at least a 3.75 GPA

Land a competitive internship

Graduate with honors

Go to work for a premier design firm for at least two years

Start my own company and make it successful

Unlike The List, this one was numbered. Like stepping stones, each step brought her closer to her ultimate goal. And now she was almost there. Jason Brecken Design was ranked number four of the best graphic design companies in the world. Not just the US, the
world
.

How many people had applied for the coveted junior designer position?

Over three hundred.

How many people had been offered the job?

One.

Sam.

Why? Because her portfolio was fantastic, because she’d worked her tail off, because Vinyasa—the company she’d interned with—had given her a gushing recommendation, and because she’d nailed all four of the interviews.

Come late August, little Samantha Kinsey of Colorado Springs would be part of the team involved in creating identities, designing websites, apps, commercials, and film, along with album covers for artists like Coldplay, Imagine Dragons, and Fun. How could she walk away from that? She couldn’t. It was the opportunity of a lifetime—a spectacular, gilded stepping stone along her career path.

Sam grabbed her pillow and pressed it over her face as she realized the direction her thoughts had veered. What was she thinking? It had been one date. One night of her life. That’s it. These were crazy thoughts. Premature thoughts. Drama-queen thoughts.

She groaned into her pillow then flipped to her side and glared at her clock. Five o’clock. This was ridiculous. Thank goodness she didn’t have to take Kajsa to the ranch in the morning. She’d show up a bleary-eyed mess and find Colton looking as awake and alert as always. He was probably sleeping like a baby right now.

Go to sleep. Go to sleep. GO TO SLEEP,
she yelled at her inner thoughts.

Sam conjured up a flock of sheep in her mind and began counting them. But when black cowboy hats appeared on little furry heads, she groaned again.

It was useless. She needed to get her mind on something else, and she needed to do it pronto. Sam tossed her covers aside, grabbed a novel from her bookcase, fished a flashlight from her nightstand, and crept down the stairs. The patio door squeaked when it opened, but the rest of the house remained silent. She dropped into her father’s hammock and left one leg dangling over the side. Back and forth she swayed, listening to the peaceful chirping of the early-rising birds. A soft glow melted across the horizon, paving the way for the sun to rise. Her body relaxed, and her eyelids grew heavy. This was exactly what she needed. A change of scenery.