#fic rewrite

"Don't you have your own store to be at?" you questioned, looking over at your boyfriend who was leaning on the sales counter, playing with the necktie of his uniform.

You got a job at The Gap, as a manager, after the boutique you worked at in Downtown Hawkins closed down. Since Steve worked at Scoops, he'd often give you a ride to work. That also meant hanging around the store until it was absolutely crucial that he had to leave to open the ice cream parlour.

Steve shrugged, "Meh, Robin's probably going to get there soon, it's fine. Besides, I like hanging around here so that I can bother you."

"Yeah, I know you do," you chortled, "And, I have a store to clean."

You playfully smacked his arm with the rag you were using to wipe down the mirrors.

Steve always told you that the reason he stuck around so often in the mornings was so that he could bother you, but, really, he just hated the idea of you being alone to open the store by yourself for a full hour before your opening associate came in.

Today, he had another reason for staying, and it was because of the mini skirt you decided to wear. When you would bend over to pull size stickers and ripped tags off the ground, it showed off the swell of your ass, and he could see a peek of your soft pink, lace underwear.

"Jesus, Stevie. Take a picture, it'll last longer," you commented on his very obvious staring.

"Believe me, honey. If I had a camera right now, I would." Steve said with wide eyes.

You scoffed, and then you felt Steve pressed against your backside. He pulled your hair from around your neck, and you almost tilted your head to give him better access to kiss you below your ear, but then you remembered where you were.

You turned around, so you were now facing him. "We cannot do this here. There are cameras, like, everywhere."

"What about in there?" Steve gestured, and your eyes followed to where he was pointing toward the fitting rooms.

"No, there's not. I'm pretty sure that would be illegal, but I'm not getting fired because you can't keep it in your pants, sailor," you teased.

Despite your words, when Steve took your hands, and started to lead you to the fitting rooms, you didn't put up a fight. He did look exceptionally good in his uniform today, but you didn't want to admit to him (or yourself) that you were horny at work at eight fifteen in the morning.

Steve led you to the largest room in the back, and drew the curtain, as if that changed anything. "See, no one will ever know."

You were past caring about the state of your employment at that point, and just needed Steve. "Shut up. If you want to do this, we don't have all day, Harrington."

"Why are you last naming m—" you cut him off with a hungry kiss, pushing his back to the wall. He received the message loud and clear.

Steve reached down to hike up your skirt to gain better access between your thighs. When he ran his fingers over your clothed cunt, he smiled into the kiss because a wet patch in your underwear had already formed.

You palmed at his cock through his shorts, and you loved how big he felt in your hand. He flipped you so that you now had your back to the wall. He slid your underwear down and ran his fingers through your slick folds.

Steve took out his cock from his shorts and stroked himself a few times, precum leaking from his tip. He broke your kiss to spit on his palm, rubbing it over himself. He lifted you up with his other arm, against the wall. You wrapped your legs around him to better stabilise yourself, as he lined himself up, and let you sink onto him.

You let out a loud moan as he bottomed out, and you were so thankful that the cameras didn't pick up any audio. Steve grunted at the feeling of your tight walls around his aching cock. He didn't move yet, letting you get adjusted to him being inside of you.

"You good, baby?" Steve panted out.

You nodded your head yes, and he wasted no time thrusting up into you. He attached his lips to where your neck meets your jaw and sucked, leaving behind a small bruise. You watched him fuck you in the giant mirror, which turned you on even more.

"Fuck, you feel so fucking good. So tight. I know you wore that skirt to torture me today, bending over right in front of me." He squeezed your ass in his big hands.

"So what if I did?" you teased. He suddenly hit the sweet spot on your gummy walls, causing you to gasp and clench around him involuntarily.

"Fuck, Steve. Right there. Harder." You couldn't get more than a word or two out, too blissed out to think. You didn't even care that your hair was getting matted from rubbing up against the wall.

You continued to bounce on his cock, hitting that spot that made you melt every time. He pressed his lips to yours once more, reaching down to rub small circles over your clit. You clenched around him again. The familiar feeling began to form in your stomach.

You broke away from his kiss. "S-Steve, I'm so close."

"Shit, I can tell. C'mon, let it go. I got you." He quickened his pace rubbing at your clit, and your orgasm crashed through you, feeling that white hot pleasure. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as Steve continued rubbing your clit with his thumb, not slowing his pace as you rode out your high.

Steve wasn't far behind you, his thrusts were starting to falter and lose rhythm. Soon, you felt the warm ropes of his release inside of you, coating your walls. Neither of you moved, you were both too fucked out.

"That was fucking incredible," Steve chuckled.

"Yeah, totally worth potentially losing my job over." You smiled at him, still trying to catch your breath.

When he pulled out of you, you whined at the empty feeling. Steve quickly scooped up the mixture of your juices and his cum that started to dribble down your thigh, and shoved it back in with his fingers, causing you to whimper at the overstimulation.

You stepped one leg back into your underwear, and Steve pulled them back up to keep everything in place, He lifted his fingers to his mouth to suck off anything excess left on them. He tucked his dick back into his shorts, and ran his fingers through his hair. You inspected yourself in the mirror, combing through your matted hair, and smoothing down your skirt.

Steve had a smug look on his face. "And look, now you don't even have to clean up back here."

"Oh, my God. I can't stand you. Go open your store now." you said, pushing him out of the fitting rooms, "And, wash your hands super good before you touch a single thing!"

When you got to the front of the store, Steve puckered his lips, awaiting his goodbye kiss. You rolled your eyes at him, giving him a quick peck on the lips before opening the sliding gate that led into the rest of the mall, and sending him on his way.

Before walking too far, Steve turned and shouted "Have fun explaining that!" pointing at his own neck.

It was more work for just one person, driving tractors and pulling wagons and making sure the corn was being fed into the grinder, but he really didn’t mind. Beat having to discuss his life everyone thought was going nowhere fast — including himself most days.

There were some days, however, all by himself on his family’s expansive land, when he could see the beauty in Wabang. See past the dust and the grime and the lingering smell of decay. That Saturday in September was one of them. The morning was bright and clear as he rode his horse, Ace, out at dawn. The air cool and crisp, the grass frosted underfoot. By midmorning, he needed to take his jacket off, the sun shining bright amongst great puffy clouds. The mountains seemed to glitter off in the distance, sway in the rising heat of day. Their snow covered peaks like a promise of the winter that was to come.

It was beautiful, but it was just his life. Green fields, far off mountains, infinite blue sky. A postcard existence — but he knew what it was really like. It was being born and living and dying all in one town and never seeing anything else. It was hard work and back breaking labor. It was stiff joints at twenty-three but no right to complain. It was struggling to make ends meet, eating six to a table crammed in a small kitchen. It was dirt under fingernails and sun damaged skin. It was grinding cattle feed alone with a sprained wrist that ached every time he picked up a supplement bag. 

The trailer filled up at about two and a half tank loads of feed. There was still half a tank left in the mixer, but he could come back for it later. It was past noon, the sun was beating down on his back, and he had been working for seven hours straight. Without so much as a water or a snack to munch on as he watched the supplement and ground corn mix together. Once the feed trailer was stowed safely in the dry barn, Rhett untied Ace from the post and rode back to the house.

Hoping to find a quick bite and not get yelled at for not finishing his job.

Pushing a thing of dip tobacco between his cheek and gums with his tongue, he walked towards the front door. His stomach rumbling as he watched his boots move across the dirt path and through the grass. But when he looked up, he noticed Amy sitting out in the yard. 

She was the spitting image of her mother, Rebecca. Eyes bright and blue with thin, pale blonde hair — cheeks dusted in freckles and teeth crooked, just a little too big for her mouth. Everyone expected Perry’s genes to be stronger, but there didn’t seem to be an ounce of Abbott in her. And for that, Rhett was almost grateful. 

Would have been a real goofy looking kid if she ended up anything like his brother. Or him even. 

Amy was braiding clovers together into a crown, weaving the stems slowly with big eyes downcast. Her little mouth downcurved in a frown. 

Rhett spit out his dip as he approached her. 

“Hey, ladybug, watchya doin’ ou’here?” he asked, tugging his gloves from his hands. 

She set the messily braided clovers down with a sigh then looked back over her shoulder at the house. When she met his eyes, she looked like she wasn’t supposed to tell him. 

But she did it anyway: “Mom and Dad’re fightin’ again.” 

Now that he was listening, he could hear the yelling coming from inside the house. Something about space and how this wouldn’t have happened and needing to get over it. Fragments and sound bites. Another of those things about living in an old ranch house. The walls weren’t good at keeping secrets. 

He grunted, put his hands on his hips. For a second, anger flared up in Rhett’s chest. So this was what Perry was doing instead of helping him with the feed? Arguing with his wife about the same old shit and not making any progress because he was too stubborn to actually listen to her? Then a sort of sadness trickled in with it. 

Amy shouldn’t have to hear that shit, either. 

She was only nine, and already she understood too much about her parents’ feelings towards the Abbotts, the ranch, Wabang, and each other. Already saw and heard too much. There was already something too grown up behind those blue eyes and Rhett didn’t like it. He could remember holding her for the first time when he was just fourteen. Everyone made him sit down to do it because they didn’t trust him and he didn’t know why. Not until Perry placed that little baby in his arms, telling him to support her head. He had never held something so delicate before in all his life, and hadn’t since. Fragile, precious, terrifying. New life — only one week in this world. It made him tear up and he didn’t even know why. 

Eventually, he could hold her while standing, while walking, sometimes even while running. Eventually, he scared the shit out of Rebecca by tossing her in the air, her shrieking giggles making him laugh. Eventually, she could talk and he liked to listen, about bugs and horses and sparkling shoes and pretend princesses saving knights from dragons. Eventually, she was mostly grown up and so was he. 

But Rhett didn’t want her to grow up, not yet. She deserved to stay little, just for a little longer. Making crowns out of clovers and giggling and not knowing what secrets the walls refused to keep. 

“Whaddaya say we go ge’ice cream?” 

“Really?” she questioned, popped up onto her knees with a small toothy smile. 

Rhett chuckled. “Yeah, really. Lemme go change.” 

He tapped her on the head lightly with his gloves as he passed her, making her laugh. And it made him smile despite the anger still bubbling in his chest and the hunger gnawing at his gut. 

When he pulled open the screen door, its loud screech and bang as the old hinges smacked it back against the exterior wall announced his presence before he even walked inside. The yelling suddenly came to a halt. He rolled his eyes as he crossed the entry and climbed the stairs, distantly hearing the argument pick back up in harsh whispers. 

Once in a fresh pair of jeans and an old rodeo t-shirt, beat up trucker hat hiding the sweat slicking his hair, he called out that he was taking Amy into town. No one answered him and he didn’t repeat himself. He just strode right back out into the shadeless yard where Amy stood waiting for him with her hands in her pockets. The corner of his mouth ticked up as he took her under his arm and led her over to his truck.

“Ya missed lunch,” she pointed out as they climbed inside. 

“Might ge’more th’n ice cream then,” he said, starting the engine. 

“So Jiffy Treat?”

“Course.”

The local ice cream shop, in business since 1973. It was nothing special. Just a squat building on the side of the road with a walk-up window and a few covered tables out front screwed into the concrete. It was the place to go in the Wabang heat to cool off. Mostly just sad dads bringing their kids to try and make them feel better about whatever was going on at home.

Rhett never thought he would be one of those sad dads — sad uncle really. 

As the truck shook and rumbled down the gravel drive towards the main road and off Abbott land, Amy quickly snatched up the cardboard box at her feet and set it in her lap. The box had water damage healed over one too many times and a missing corner, but it still did the job alright. Holding an unorganized and haphazardly placed collection of cassettes.

“Which one has the Georgia song on it?” Amy rifled through the tapes, plastic clacking together as she threw them around.

Rhett knew which song she was talking about instantly. “Reba McEntire — uh, lady wi’curly hair — black’n white.” 

It took her a minute to find it, but once she did, she held it up and giggled triumphantly. Rhett told her to put it in as he turned left onto the paved road that led into town, cranking open his window to let in a breeze. He still felt like he smelled like ground corn and yeast. But he wasn’t about to make her wait any longer by taking a shower — or let his stomach continue to eat itself any more than he had to.

With a whir of tape and a few skipped tracks, the opening guitar and piano of The Night The Lights Went Out In Georgia started to play.

Amy sang along loudly, bobbing her head to the beat and missing a few of the words. While Rhett muttered them all quietly, tapping his fingers against the steering wheel. Asking once the song was over for her to rewind the tape and let him listen to the album in full.

“You need t’get a new radio, Uncle Rhett,” she said as she pressed the right buttons. “One y’can plug y’r phone into.” 

He chuckled softly. “I like m’tapes jus’fine.” 

“Y’sound like Gran’pa.”

Amy said it with a laugh, and Rhett rolled his eyes for her to see. But she didn’t need to know that stabbed at something inside him he didn’t like. A beast, locked in a cage. Pacing, waiting to be angered enough to set itself free. 

He didn’t want to be like his dad. 

But apples didn’t fall far from trees in Wabang — inevitable and constant. 

There were a few other cars parked in the small Jiffy Treat lot. Kids in swimsuits either just coming back or going to the swimming hole over in Hayden running around the umbrella shaded tables. The parents chatting with cones in hand. 

Amy jumped out of the truck first as soon as Rhett threw it in park. He was quick to follow after her, already fishing his wallet out of his back pocket. The teenager working the window slid it open with a smile as they walked up. 

“What can I ge’for ya?” she asked, finely manicured nails poised with a pen and notepad.

Rhett ruffled Amy’s hair as he looked over the menu. “Go’head, ladybug.” 

“Can I have a scoop’ve bubblegum with sprinkles, please?”

“In a cone or a cup?”

“Cone, please,” Amy said, then backed away from the window so Rhett could step up. 

“N’ll take two hotdogs n’a thing’a onion rings, please,” he said, thumbing the few bills in his wallet. “N’can I get a cup’a water?”

It did not go out of his notice how the young girl looked him up and down, teeth biting into her lip as she wrote down his order. It made him shift his weight to his other foot, hoping to just get away soon. But her pink blush did remind him of someone — and it made the corner of his mouth raise.

“That it?” she asked. 

“Yep.”

She gave the total with his cup of water and he paid, Amy’s ice cream quickly being called from the other window. Bright pink and covered in rainbow sprinkles. Her smile was ear to ear as she took it with both hands and sat down at one of the tables. Rhett plopped down on the bench across from her and tried not to focus on just how hungry he really was. It was nice under the shade of the umbrella, sun no longer beating down on his back. Birds chirped in the yards on either side and cars rumbled past on the road behind him. He could feel the wind they created whipping at his shirt. It would have felt good if he didn’t worry that if they swerved even a little he was done for.

“R’Mom n’dad gonna get a divorce?” Amy asked as she licked at her ice cream. 

Rhett coughed around his drink of water. “Wha’makes ya say that?”

“Lily Stockton n’my class — her parents’re gettin’ divorced.” She shrugged. “She said they fought a lot. Now she goes t’her dad’s house on the weekends.” 

She didn’t seem sad. But she wouldn’t look at Rhett directly either. Watching the swimsuit kids as they got rounded up by their parents or cars as they drove by.

“Shit, I don’know,” Rhett said after a moment to think, pushing his tongue into his cheek despite having no dip to fiddle with.

That seemed to appease her for the minute, and he was thankful. Because there was always the possibility. He couldn’t rule it out and he always had been terrible at lying to his niece. If they did get divorced everyone would probably be happier save his mother, who would just be heartbroken at her son’s broken marriage. His broken family. They would become a constant prayer request to her church group. Though he doubted she brought up their struggles to them now. Keep things in the family until it bursts at the seams for everyone to see. 

His food got called and he muttered a thank God under his breath as he got up to get it. He didn’t even care to put ketchup or mustard on his hotdogs, he just sat down and started eating. It was hot and fried and delicious. 

As they ate, Amy trying to keep up with her ice cream before it melted onto her hand, an old white Jeep with wood paneling on the sides pulled into the lot. Rhett watched it as he finished off his second hot dog, Amy making some comment about how he always ate too fast. It was a nineties model at the least, though it was hard to say without asking. Minimal rust around the bottom and the paint needed to be redone but that didn’t matter much. Every car looked like a junker in Wabang. Old model trucks with longer beds than any of those 21st century Ford monstrosities could offer. Rhett was surprised at how good the engine sounded though, a nice rumble as it slowed to a stop and cut off completely. A rarity for a car that age in a town like this. 

The back doors swung open first, three boys clambering out and into the sun. They waited patiently by the bumper as the driver stepped out. 

Rhett nearly choked on one of his onion rings.

She looked beautiful. Light brown hair falling around her shoulders and the golden chain of her locket peeking out from a quarter zip with the sleeves rolled up. Her wide smile was like its own sun as she slammed the creaking driver’s door shut and gestured for the boys that poured out of her car to get in line. The smallest of them running ahead to go first. She followed behind. Her eyes big and blue as July squinted in the sun, turning them to slits crinkled at the edges, and Rhett smiled.

He really hoped he would see Tessa Abernathy again. It had been nearly a week since he got to apologize in the fluorescent light of the general store. He just thought, and maybe hoped, he would have more control over his heart rate than he did right then; pounding against his ribcage as he watched her walk and dig through her purse at the same time. Would she notice him? Would she talk to him? He nearly wanted to slap himself. He was never like this around women. Especially women he wanted. He knew all the tricks and he knew all the lines — just to feel something, just to get loved for a night. But this was different. She was different. 

Then Amy suddenly gasped. “That’s Jace!”

Rhett blinked rapidly as he looked back at his niece, feeling like he just got caught doing something he shouldn’t. “Uh — w-who?”

“He’s in m’class — we sit at the same table,” she said, pointing at the smallest boy bouncing up and down in front of the order window. “C’n I go say hi?”

“Sure, ladybug,” he replied.

She didn’t waste a second. Pink ice cream dribbled down onto her knuckles as she raced over to talk to the little boy. He looked just as excited to see her as she was him. Gasping and jumping and pointing to the order window — which was handing down to him a bowl of multicolored ice cream covered in gummy worms. Rhett finished off his onion rings and wiped his hands off on his jeans as he watched them. Happy that Amy was distracted — at least for a little while. That she wasn’t thinking about her parents yelling at each other through thin walls or Lily Stockton or having to spend weekends at her dad’s. That she wasn’t asking him questions he didn’t know the answers to. Instead, she was just being a kid. Talking excitedly with a friend, getting sticky fingers, and eating bright pink ice cream covered in sprinkles. That was what she deserved. To just stay little, just a little longer.

But Rhett stiffened, hot dogs and onion rings sitting like led in his stomach, as he watched Tessa come up to the order window, paying for the three boys’ ice cream. He couldn’t hear what they were saying, but her and Amy were clearly talking to one another. Tessa smiling at the two little kids fondly and making big facial expressions that made him smile. 

Then Amy was pointing at him. Tessa turned her head to look with raised brows. She smiled, wide and stunning and full of a kindness he could nearly see and felt undeserving of receiving. Raising his hand, he waved with a small smile — 

And he had to stop himself from cringing.

He was definitely regretting those hot dogs, and not showering, now as Amy and Jace rushed over to sit on the bench opposite him. Amy saying something about him being her uncle and riding bulls. Jace didn’t seem that interested. Rhett hadn’t even noticed the group of teens that had taken over the table next to them until the two older boys came over and joined them. That just left Tessa, carrying a waffle cone filled with some yellow ice cream, to sit with him at his table. Unable to stop himself, he started fiddling with the paper boat his food came in. Why did talking to her now feel like he was sitting on the back of a bull, the gate about to open and his career on the line?

“Hey, Rhett, how’s it goin’?” she asked as she sat down on the bench at his right.

“G-Good, yeah,” he answered, glancing up at her and looking away. “You? How’s it goin’ with you?”

“M’good too,” she laughed, hiding her smile with her ice cream, then she looked over at Amy and Jace, lost in their own world. “Y’r niece’s cute. Her’n Jace seem t’get along.”

Rhett swallowed thickly. Some part of him wanted to smack himself because he knew talking with her was so damn easy. Even though all his life talking to anyone was a struggle he preferred to avoid. Truth and stories and some secret part of him bubbling to the surface because, somehow, he wanted her to see it and know. But he didn’t want to mess this up. Not again. 

“He — uh — he livin’ in the Home? W-With you?”

“Yeah. He’s’re youngest righ’now.”

“Wha’is he? Nine?” he asked, brows furrowed, finally looking her in the face.

She wasn’t looking at him, and that made it easier. Too focused on Amy and Jace as they talked about school and sports and shows they liked. How she was obviously Spider-Man and he was Hulk. There was a kind of sadness in her eyes though that he had never seen before. One he wanted to fix.

Eventually, she nodded, hand raising to cover her tongue peaking out, licking ice cream from her lip. “He’s a foster. Couldn’even get’im t’say a word when he first showed up. Now look at’im.”

Rhett didn’t fully understand what that meant, but he knew enough. A foster kid. Either his parents were out of the picture or he got taken away from them by the state. Rhett hadn’t even realized he was ripping a fringe into the edge of his paper boat until he had finished an entire side.

“He’s go’somebody good takin’ care’a him now,” he mumbled, watching the side of her face as she ate her sweet treat. “Makes’a difference.”

There was that pretty pink blush that made the freckles on her cheeks stand out. Her eyes sliding over to look at him as she licked her lips again. It made him laugh softly.

She chose not to comment as she glanced down at his unbraced hand. “Wrist feel better?”

“Uh, yeah,” he said as he flexed his fingers. “S’alright.”

“Takin’ it easy?”

“Nope.”

Tessa leveled him with a look and it filled up something warm in his chest. She barely knew him, but she cared. Enough to get mad at him for not resting his injury and rolling her eyes when he laughed and said what? No one in his family had yet to mention it. Even when he took off the brace before he really should have. Even when he winced and clenched his jaw doing certain tasks. It was like it wasn’t even there. That something warm was still there, but beside it was something sour. Tart and bitter to the taste.

One of the boys that came with her walked up to their table. He appeared to be the oldest. Long curly black hair and headphones around his neck — skateboard tucked under his arm. Tall and unaware of the fact. Skin cratered like the moon. His face looked permanently pinched up in anger, bushy eyebrows furrowed low over dark eyes. But when he spoke, he didn’t sound grumpy at all. 

“We’re gonna go’cross the street. That alright?” he asked, pointing to where he and his friends wanted to go. 

Rhett looked over his shoulder. It was just an alley between downtown brick buildings. Someone tried to decorate it once with creeping ivy and string lights and metal benches. But the ivy was now brown, the string lights were gone, and the benches were uninviting — save for a kid with a skateboard. 

Tessa nodded easily with a smile. “Yeah, s’fine. Wyatt with you?”

The teen nodded.

“Alright, go’on. We’re gon’leave n’bout thirty minutes.”

A smile broke out across his face. An unexpected expression for him, but it suited him well. Then he jogged off, back to his friends. Rhett couldn’t help but notice Tessa watching them with her brows pinched together. 

“Wha’s that look for?” he questioned as she turned back to her nearly finished ice cream.

“S’just…” She seemed to wrestle with her words for a second, tongue pushed into the roof of her mouth as she thought. Then she sighed as she looked at him with her head leaning towards her shoulder. “Wyatt’s younger than Colton n’all his friends n’I…I don’wan’im gettin’ made fun of.” 

“That’s jus’life. He’ll be fine.” 

“Still hurts,” Tessa said.

There was something in those eyes like July that Rhett couldn’t really read. Something like too much understanding. Something like experience. Something like Amy too grown up. Again, he suddenly was filled with the urge to fix. To make that look in her eyes go away. To make whoever made fun of her pay for it because she didn’t deserve that. To take her out for ice cream to help her forget. Bring back that kindness in her eyes, at least for a little while.

“Uncle Rhett!” Amy suddenly called, “Should I be Mikey or Donnie?”

Rhett stared at her for a second, brows furrowed — then it clicked. “Oh, like the ninja turtles?”

“Yeah!”

Tessa placed her hand on his arm to get his attention. “We’ve got the ole’eighties show on VHS. Jace’s obsessed righ’now.”

“We, uh —” He swallowed thickly as she retracted her hand, watching her soft as silk hands retreat almost sadly. “We watched the nineties movie together —  few weeks back.” 

“Oh, that’s so fun.” 

“Rhett!” Amy cried, exasperated. “Should I be Donnie or Mikey?”

“Mikey,” he answered simply, not even having to think.

Amy immediately hopped up and struck a pose with her fists posed for a fight. “I’m Michelangelo!”

“And I’m Leonardo!” Jace yelled as he sprang from the bench as well, pulling pretend swords from his back. 

Then they were off. Amy twirling imaginary nun-chucks around as they play fought one another. Weaving around the other empty tables and jumping up onto benches. Rhett and Tessa watched them with laughs on their lips.

“Y’ever — uh — y’ever pretend t’be somethin’ when y’were a kid?” Rhett asked as he looked at the back of her head.

She turned her head over her shoulder, eyes still focused on the kids, as she said, “Used t’pretend I was a fairy. Had a pair’a wings from Halloween I’wore f’r nearly a year.”

Rhett chuckled as he looked down into his lap. He could picture it perfectly. Little girl refusing to take the wings off even if they were bent up and dirty, because she was a fairy. Her parents just giving up and letting it happen. He thought it was adorable — nearly said so but he bit his tongue at the last second.

“I’d wander’round the yard wi’those, uh toy guns? Thinkin’ I’s a cowboy.”

“That’s sweet,” she said as she turned back to look at him with a smile, small and kind.

Her ice cream cone was finished, but there was a glob of yellow on her chin — just beneath her lip. She just looked so pretty. Rhett knew he shouldn’t. After coming so close to ruining whatever was blossoming between them. But before he could really think it through, before he could rationalize, before he could nail down what he should do instead of what he wanted to do — his hand was reaching for her. 

“Oh, you — ya got somethin’...” Rhett said, tucking his forefinger beneath her chin and wiping at the rogue ice cream drip with his thumb. 

Her cheeks turned an even brighter shade of pink, the color going down, down into the collar of her quarter-zip as he made a second pass on her soft skin to make sure he got it all. Eyes downcast as she took a deep, steadying breath. When he finally pulled away, the ice cream was gone, and she looked up at him from beneath her lashes with her lip caught between her teeth.

That same look from that night at the bonfire. Before she practically ran away from him and he was left with a different kind of ache. A different kind of itch. That only she could fill. With her kindness and just right smiles and heart too big for her chest. Regret pooled in his stomach like concrete along with those hotdogs and onion rings. His mouth opened and closed as he wrestled with an apology. But then…

“D’you get it?” she asked quietly. 

“Uh-huh,” he muttered, relief flooding him now, as he licked his thumb clean. “Tastes good.” 

Tessa stared at him for a moment. Thoughts churning behind those big blue eyes and her mouth popped open. Made him smirk as he watched her. She wasn’t running for the hills yet, and for that he was thankful. He no longer felt like he was in the chute, on top of a bull, his career on the line. Instead, he felt like Rhett Abbott talking to Tessa Abernathy. Siphoning off that kindness and maybe giving some out in return.

“It’s, uh — it’s lemon poppyseed,” she finally decided to say and it only made his grin grow. 

“‘Ll have t’try it sometime.”

Then his phone vibrated in his pocket. A text from his mother.

Your dad’s wondering why the rest of that feed hasn’t been stored.

“Ah, shit. We gotta go,” he said, collecting his trash as he rose from his seat.

“R-Really?”

“Yeah, got work t’do.” He fished his keys out of his pocket. “Ladybug! C’mon, we gotta get on home!” 

Amy sighed, but said goodbye to Jace. Once his trash was disposed of, he put Amy under his arm and started the walk back to his truck. Telling Tessa it was nice seeing her and trading reluctant farewells.

Once inside the truck, Amy grinned at him like she knew a secret. 

“What?” he laughed. 

“You like her.”

Rhett felt his face flush. “I — you don’t — I don’t —”

“S’alright. I won’t tell,” she said as she settled back into her seat with a pleased smile.

He started the truck with a huff. “Little shit.”

The ride back to the ranch was easy and quiet. Amy leaning back in her seat with her head tilted towards the window — watching endless green fields roll by. And Rhett caught up in thoughts of Tessa Abernathy with ice cream on her chin and looking up at him through thick lashes.

He supposed he couldn’t deny that he liked her. As childish as the term sounded. At the very least, he wanted to be with her. Get to know her. Talk with her. Pulling from her with such ease that kindness the world didn’t deserve and maybe show her some in return — even if he wasn’t very good at it. It was a foreign sort of urge and an alien kind of weight in his chest. Rhett didn’t like his partners, no matter how long or short they were together, getting too close to him. Seeing all that he was and all that it meant, all the dust and grime and that he was just like everyone else in Wabang. A horse sent out to pasture, waiting to die. Knowing there was better but being too afraid and too caught up in it all to leave. He thought he could leave it all behind once. But then he didn’t, and it brought a shame he still didn’t understand and didn’t want to deal with. He couldn’t get out. And maybe that was why he was the guy that made them realize they wanted to be married, just not to him. 

But then again, Tessa didn’t get out either. And she seemed like one of the only things in this life that hadn’t been touched by the Wabang grime. Shiny and bright and loving this life in a small town.

He might not have deserved a girl like that, but he was willing to try. 

When he parked in front of the house, Amy leaping from the passenger seat and running inside, his dad was waiting on the porch for him. Sitting on the old bench his grandmother thrifted from an antique store. A relic from one of the ancient country churches that closed its doors long ago. His ankles crossed and fingers threaded together in his lap as he watched Amy head inside. Rhett sighed as he cut the engine and opened his door — knowing what was waiting for him once he went up those steps.

He didn’t even make it up one of them before his dad started talking gruffly, “Wen’out t’check on ya ‘while ago…Left all the equipmen’out.” 

“Yeah, yeah — Goin’ back to finish grindin’ now,” Rhett replied, taking one booted foot off the step and putting it back on the ground.

“Where’d y’take Amy?”

“Ice cream.”

“Y’had work t’do.”

Rhett clenched his jaw, ticked it to one side. Adjusted his weight from one foot to the other. Itching to get away so he wouldn’t get in more trouble than he was. But he never had been good at not putting his foot in his mouth.

“Yeah, well, somebody had t’make sure she wasn’t hearin’ her parents’ screamin’ match,” he said, finally looking his father in the face with his jaw set and eyes ablaze. 

His dad stared at him for a moment. Chin jutted out and small brown eyes narrowed. Then he rose from his seat and Rhett straightened, prepared to defend himself. His own fight the walls wouldn’t keep to themselves.

“Just get the feed done.”

Then he turned and walked inside. 

Rhett looked at that old empty church pew for a minute. Mind reeling through everything else he wanted to say. Why does Perry get a day off to have a fight with his wife? Did you even bring any food or water when you came to check on me? If the work wasn’t done would you have even noticed I was gone? 

Prayers to an absent god.

Then he pushed off from the porch step and walked back to the barn.