Stick in the Mud Meets Spontaneity (Meet Your Match, book 3) (21 page)

His head shook again. “I can’t believe you ever convinced other people to do that with you. Are you sure they didn’t sneak a few drinks beforehand?”

“Yes, I’m sure,” said Sam. “That was the whole point of our Virgin Adventures.”

“Whoa. What did you just say?”

Sam rested her elbow on a rack and sighed. “My mom always joked that if I ever started drinking, it would be the equivalent of a manic person taking Prozac. That was her way of warning me away from alcohol, which she didn’t really need to do because I’ve seen too many friends get drunk and do stupid things to ever want to go there. But when I got to college, it seemed like the thing to do was hang out at bars or dance clubs. Since I didn’t want to sit home alone every weekend, it was either become the designated driver or come up with something else.

“I called them Virgin Adventures, and we’d do things like scavenger hunts, skateboard races, or watch movies like
Jaws
in someone’s swimming pool. At first, it was just a few of us, but then word got out and more people started joining us. By the end of my first year, we usually had at least fifty people show.”

Colton looked impressed. “And you came up with all those ideas?”

“Most of the time. I found a lot online, and every now and then, someone else would have a different idea, so we’d give it a try. Which is a good point to make.” She tapped him on the chest with her finger. “We
always
gave every idea, no matter how dumb it sounded, a try. And most of the time, it turned out pretty fun.”

Colton slung an arm around her back and guided her toward the front door. “What about a compromise?”

“I’m listening.”

“I was thinking I could take you through one of those really cool car washes instead. It’ll sort of be like fountain hopping with an umbrella.”

Sam had to smile at that. Although his compromising skills needed a little work, in his defense, she’d sprung this whole shopping/fountain thing on him with no warning. Maybe if she’d asked his opinion from the get-go, they could have come up with a real compromise.

True to his word, Colton took her through a long and interesting car wash that felt more like a ride at an amusement park. High powered rotating jets blasted the truck, creating thunderish sounds in the cab. Then large, brightly-colored brushes spun around the truck in various shapes and patterns, beating away every speck of dirt. More jets were followed by powerful dryers that scattered thousands of tiny droplets from the windows. They finished the ride by going through a long wall of mirrors that showcased the shiny clean truck. Pretty impressive.

Sam had been raised as a do-it-yourself girl and had never been through a car wash of quite this caliber.

Afterwards, Colton drove to her favorite café for takeout and they ended up at a large park.

“I was thinking we could put those towels to good use and have a picnic right there.” He pointed to a shady spot on the grass, next to a large, circular fountain that sprouted a lovely waterfall. “That’s as close as you’re going to get me to fountain hopping, I’m afraid.”

It wasn’t exactly what she’d envisioned for the night, but the date had involved water, towels, and a fountain and they hadn’t gone anywhere near a burger joint. Colton had at least
tried
to compromise, she had to give him that.

She leaned over and gave him a kiss on the cheek. “I love picnics.”

“I know, right? We get to eat great food, hang out on two towels under that big tree over there, and stay warm and dry and adult.”

Sam laughed. “Adulthood is overrated.”

“Normally, I’d agree with you.”

“But not today?”

“Not today.”

“What about tomorrow?”

A smile spread across his face. “Is this how it’s going to be from here on out?”

She scooted closer and rested her head against his shoulder. “I just want to make each day from now until the end of summer one to remember.”

She felt his shoulder stiffen and the humor left his voice. “What about after this summer?” he said quietly.

The question was so loaded and weighted down that Sam found it hard to pick up. She lifted her head and gazed at him, not liking the clouds she saw in his eyes. She put her hand on his and threaded her fingers in between. “I think every day should be worth remembering. Don’t you?”

“Yes.” He lifted her fingers and kissed them, though lines of worry were etched in his forehead.

They left the conversation behind, spread out the towels to make a large square, and plopped down to enjoy dinner. The sky was clear, the temperature a tad on the warm side, and the park abuzz with people. Arm in arm, an elderly couple strolled by, not speaking, just enjoying the ambiance. A small group of kids played tag while parents chatted at a nearby picnic table. Other kids played on a playground not far away, and a father threw a football back and forth with his son.

Sam breathed in the fresh, summer air and silently applauded all the people who’d ventured outside their house to experience life. Because of them, the park pulsated with a strong and positive energy.

“How about we flip the town tomorrow night?” she said.

He paused with his sandwich part way into his mouth then took a deliberate bite, chewing slowly. “I know you don’t mean what it sounds like you mean, but I can’t come up with anything else it could mean, so… you’re going to have to explain.”

“It’ll be fun. We’ll drive to the center of town and flip a coin. Heads, we go right. Tails, left. If there’s something to do at the next intersection, that’s what we do. If not, we keep flipping and driving until we find something else. The last time I did it with a group of people, we ended up singing karaoke, bowling, and eating Indian food. What do you say?”

“What if we toss heads all night and end up driving in circles?”

“Then we potentially sing lots of songs, knock over lots of pins, or eat lots of food.”

“Sounds… interesting.” From the look on his face, “interesting” meant “totally lame.”

“Will you at least try it? Please? For me?”

Colton lay down on his back and folded his arms behind his head. “Fine. But if we end up at a karaoke place, I refuse to sing.”

“Not even if it’s a Garth Brooks song? I thought you were a cowboy.”

“Not all cowboys sing.”

“What about ‘Red Solo Cup’? There’s no singing involved in that song. You could totally pull it off.”

“There’s no brains involved either.” He quirked an eyebrow. “Still think I can pull it off?”

She cocked her head to the side as though mulling it over, and he immediately poked her lightly in the ribs. It tickled, and she squirmed away.

His lips lifted into a smile. “Are you ticklish?”

“No.”

He executed an effortless sit-up and towered over her, trapping her shoulders between his hands. “I think you are.”

“If you tickle me, I’ll scream. Loudly. As in, the-police-will-come-running-with-taser-guns loudly. I really,
really
hate being tickled.”

He leaned in closer and dropped his voice. “And I really, really hate karaoke. So… compromise number two for tonight: If you don’t give me any guff about never singing in front of a crowd, I won’t tickle you.”

His close proximity made her stomach twist and turn. Unable to resist, she pushed the hat off his head and dragged her fingers through his short, thick hair. “Will you at least swing dance or two-step with me while someone else sings?”

“You might talk me into that.”

“Then it’s a date.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Sam’s fingers stilled at the nape of his neck, and she lifted an eyebrow. “Ma’am?”

“Would you rather I call you muffin?”

“No.”

“Pumpkin?”

“Not on your life.”

“Darlin’?” His head inched closer with every attempted endearment, and Sam felt the warmth of his breath on her cheek and saw each line and contour of his face. Dang, he was handsome.

“What about just plain old ordinary Samantha?” she said.

“Because there’s nothing plain or ordinary about you, Samantha.”

One short sentence, nine simple words, and the world shifted. Sam suddenly found it hard to breathe. Her pounding heart thudded in her ears, and all the background noises of water, squeals, and chirping birds faded away as Colton closed the distance between them. Slowly and methodically, she kissed him, feeling each sensation, each nerve, each shiver of delight. Her hands palmed his freshly shaved face, following the movements of his jaw. Everything about him felt so right, so strong, so good. He was someone she needed to throw her arms around, hold on tight, and never let go.

New York was definitely negotiable. Colton was not.

The pressure of his lips eased off hers, and he dropped his forehead to hers. His chest rose and fell in cadence with hers, and ever so slowly the outside world began to fade back in. Water gurgled and splashed, birds chirped and sang, kids giggled and squealed, and Colton’s voice sounded still and quiet.

“I’m falling in love with you.” He didn’t preface the words with “I think” or “I’m pretty sure.” He stated them with calm conviction.

Her eyes flew open and her breath caught in her throat. Colton looked down at her, his gaze intense. The air around them seemed to spark and snap as though it had just been charged with electricity, and the light behind his head became blinding. A delicious warmth gushed over her like a tidal wave, making her feel like she’d been lifted off the ground and carried away.

This is what magic feels like
, Sam thought.

“I’m falling too.”

Colton quickly discovered that when Samantha said she wanted to make every day count, what she really meant was every second of every minute of every hour of every day. Over the next few weeks, they flipped the town, rented Segways and drove them through the streets of Colorado Springs, went paintballing, and had a moonlight picnic. They rode horses and four-wheelers and even caught a few spectacular sunrises from the small rise above The Shack. Then one morning, she hauled him up the mountain to a place with rock climbing, zip-lining, and ropes courses, and he quickly hauled her back down—at least part way—to some caves. There, he introduced her to a sport that kept them on solid ground—spelunking.

Together, they created memory after memory after memory. Time skittered past like a lizard in the desert, and as the end of July drew near, a nagging thought intruded on all the fun.

Samantha wouldn’t care so much about making every second count if she was planning to stay.

Colton was becoming an expert at shoving it aside, but, like a determined fly, it didn’t stay gone for long.

On the evening of Kajsa’s first barrel race, the McCoys, Mackies, Granthams, and Kinseys all piled into the stands on the south side of the rodeo grounds. When it came time for Kajsa’s race, they cheered wildly as she tore through the course, her dark ponytail and pinned-on number flapping in the air behind her. She rode with style and confidence—a natural. But as she circled the last barrel, she cut in too tight and knocked it over. Afterwards, it took a gallon of mint chocolate chip ice cream and Colton’s promise to take her with him to the Mustang Makeover Contest to cheer her up.

“Mind if I tag along too?” Samantha had asked.

“Of course not,” said Colton, not sure what to think. Her job started in August, and the competition took place in September. Was she planning to fly back for it, or (dare he hope?) still be around? The subject of Samantha’s job never really made it into their conversations. Whenever Colton hinted at it, she quickly changed the subject, which wasn’t a good sign. Samantha would have told him if she’d turned down the job, which meant she hadn’t, which meant… what?

After a particularly sleepless night, Colton rose before the sun and saddled Maverick. Riding always cleansed his mind, and today he needed it. As the sun crested the top of the horizon, he galloped across the fields, taking Maverick high into the hills. At a small lookout, Colton pulled him to a stop. Below them, the valley looked unreal, like a tiny model of Colorado Springs you’d find in a visitor’s center. It was a view that normally stole his breath, but today, he didn’t see anything.

What will I do if Samantha decides to leave?

A feeling of dread settled in his gut, and Colton pulled Maverick around, spurring him higher into the hills. They zigzagged through trees, leapt over small streams, and continued to climb until Maverick’s coat glistened with sweat and his breathing became ragged. Still, the dread gnawed. It didn’t matter how far he rode, how fresh the air was, or how warm the sun became, he and Maverick couldn’t outrun it.

Giving up, Colton finally turned his beloved horse around and rode back down. As he loped up the lane leading to the barn, all was quiet on the ranch. His father and brothers had already left to collect the sheep and broncs for the family rodeo tonight, and his mother was probably at the store. Samantha had given herself several food assignments and wouldn’t be coming until later, with her family.

From across the field a giggle sounded, followed by Kajsa’s voice. She was talking to Maj. When did she get here?