Chapter Thirteen: Aspen

Sitting high in one of the combines, I watched Owen's car fly through the driveway to the main house. The McLaren kicked up a ton of dirt that would leave the maroon paint filthy, but I knew he would have it spotless by the next day.

Glancing down at my watch, I noticed he was nearly an hour early. Using a walkie-talkie, I radioed my dad and Andrew to let them know I was taking a break and to send someone out to finish this portion of the field. Soon, one of the veteran workers came out, delight filling his eyes when I handed over the keys.

The UTV made quick work of moving me across the fields and over to the house, where I found Owen and my mom sitting out on the front porch in rocking chairs, drinking lemonade.

They looked adorable.

"Oh, Aspen. Good, you're here. Let me run inside and get you the list of sandwiches to grab from Ernie's."

Mom scurried out of her chair so fast it continued to rock while she made her way inside. I was too busy looking at her retreating back to notice Owen stood up until I turned and found him only a foot away.

"Hey," I said, just before his hands came up to clasp my face, and he pressed our lips together.

The kiss caught me off guard, and when my lips parted in surprise, Owen's tongue veered inside. My arms hung loosely at my sides, but as the kiss grew more zealous, I reached for his waist, leaning my body against his.

"Oh!"

Owen and I jumped apart at my mom's sudden return. While I kept my gaze trained on the wooden planks of the porch, he snickered.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to interrupt. Here is the list," she said, holding it out for me to take. My eyes looked everywhere but at my mother's as I reached for the piece of paper.

"Anything else you need, Mrs. Easterly?"

"Oh, maybe a half-dozen pies from the store? Everyone is working so hard. I'm working on the stew for dinner, so that will be a great dessert."

"Sure. Can I grab a couple of bottles of wine for you as well?"

"Oh, that would be wonderful, Owen. You're such a kind man. Don't you think so, Aspen?"

I looked at my mom in shock and then over at Owen, wondering if she witnessed him mauling my mouth. Though, I didn't regret it for one second.

"Yeah, he's a gem."

"Okay. Now you two be on your way. Lunch is in two hours. I gave Ernie a heads-up, so he knows you"re coming."

Before Mom could say anything more, I gripped Owen's hand and dragged him down the stairs toward his car. I would have offered to drive, but I knew he'd protest.

During the drive, we talked about the harvest and his neighbor. Owen was hoping to get some practice in using the high-school batting cages while he was here. He was just waiting for the go-ahead from his temporary trainer.

We walked hand in hand inside Chuck's while we looked for pies. The fact that holding his hand felt so right was an observation I was trying my best to ignore.

What was impossible to overlook was that everyone around sprinted in the other direction whenever they spotted us. Not in a silly way, but because people were completely terrified.

"You know, you'd think by now that everyone would've forgiven our chaotic behavior from when we were kids."

Owen laughed as he stacked the six pies against his chest with a single arm, never dropping my hand. "It seems our reputation precedes us."

"It seems."

Leaning down, his lips brushed against my ear. "We should give them something to talk about."

"Are you talking about…," I started as Owen pulled away and stepped around one of the displays. I peered at him in confusion, then suddenly felt something soft and squishy press against my cheek.

Peeling away from me with laughter, the pies in one hand and a squished cupcake in the other, he ran toward the registers. Grabbing a cupcake of my own, I gave chase. Two families moved out of the way as I bolted after him. I cornered him in the checkout line as Mrs. Henson stood at the register, writing out a check for her groceries.

"Owen Ramsey, you're going to pay."

He ducked and veered at my attempts, but I used the conveyor belt as leverage and hoisted myself high enough to smash the chocolatey goodness into the side of his face and hair.

"Oh dear!" Mrs. Hensen exclaimed, and I realized I smashed the cake so hard that bits and pieces flew into the air behind Owen, some landing on Mrs. Henson and the teen working the register.

"I'm so sorry," I apologized between fits of giggles.

Owen stepped forward, and for a moment I wondered what other tricks he had up his sleeve. He surprised me as his fingers forcefully slid into my hair and yanked my face toward his, crushing his mouth to mine.

"Oh dear," Mrs. Hensen repeated, but this time her voice was breathy.

I pulled back from Owen and went in search of paper towels to clean ourselves up while he paid for the pies and two cupcakes.

By the time we got back to his car, we looked as good as new, minus the brown streak along Owen's shoulder from the chocolate. He didn't seem to care and shrugged when I brought it up.

At Ernie's, a newer sandwich shop in town, Owen and I were on our best behaviors. While we waited for the staff to finish making the thirty sandwiches Mom called in, we strolled up and down the block. Most of the people we passed waved and smiled. Only a few pulled out their phones to snap a picture. Most just wanted to leave us alone.

As we walked back to the shop, a group of women stood just outside the doors, blocking the entrance. I knew immediately they were hoping for a chance to get to Owen.

His hold on my hand tightened, and I knew he must have noticed them too.

"Owen!"

"Owen Ramsey!"

The group shouted his name over and over as they waved to get his attention.

I tried to slip my hand free, to give him a chance to greet his fans, even the female ones, but he squeezed my fingers, dragging me along with him.

"Good afternoon, ladies."

Within a second of his greeting, they began asking for pictures and autographs. One even pulled her shirt down to reveal her lacy bra and round breasts.

"Sorry, ladies. I'm at lunch with my girlfriend right now. If you're looking for an autograph, I'm helping the high school run a conditioning camp over the weekend. I'll hang around for an hour or so to sign things for the kids."

Without listening to a single word they spoke, he brushed past them with me in tow and slid us into the sandwich shop. I was thankful the women didn't follow us inside.

"I didn't know you were doing a camp this weekend. That sounds fun."

"Coach Rudicell asked. I remember learning a lot at those camps. You should come. Be my own personal cheerleader."

Barking out a laugh, I replied, "You and I both know that I was never a cheerleader, nor do I have the hand-eye coordination for baseball. But I am sure you'll have a great time."

"I'll get a bat in your hands one day."

"Only if I get to chase you with it," I said and smiled while pursing my lips. Something about Owen brought out a saucier side of me I never knew existed.

"We're going to the movies tonight, by the way. The theater is showing one of my favorite movies as a kid."

"Yeah? And what's that?"

Smiling down at me as the shop worker handed over five bags filled with sandwiches, he replied, "Angels in the Outfield."

"Of course they are. You're like a hero to the people of Ashfield. I am 100-percent certain they chose that movie with you in mind."

"Don't care. We're going to see it." Leaning down as we exited through the back door to avoid the crowd out front, Owen added, "And maybe if you're a good girl, we can make out in the back row."

***

I was lying to myself by saying my cheeks were red from the sunburn I received from working on the farm, but I knew it was from listening to Owen's promises running through my head over and over.

Even as I tried on my third outfit of the night, I couldn't shake the natural blush that flushed even brighter when I thought about sitting in the movie theater with Owen.

With a glance at the clock on my nightstand, I knew he would arrive at any moment. Sighing a heavy, desperate breath, I yanked a black spaghetti strap dress from my closet and tugged it over my strapless bra and lace panties. They didn't match, but none of my undergarments were a set, so I was working with what I had. I only owned anything lace because Jenna insisted I buy them the last time she and I went to the big city.

Staring at my reflection in the mirror hanging from my closet door, I pulled at the hem of the dress. I didn't remember it being that short. So much of my legs was exposed. My normal attire of cut-off denim and tank tops beckoned me from the dresser drawers, while my cowboy boots taunted me from their spot by my front door. The semi-dressy sandals I owned were waiting to be slipped on, just as my doorbell rang.

Rushing down the steps, I nearly slid on the rug covering my hardwood floors. Thankfully, I caught the corner of the wall with my hand and propelled myself forward.

My hair laid like a curtain over my face, and I was busy brushing it away as Owen opened the door and stepped inside.

"Everything okay? I thought I heard some slamming."

"Yeah, sorry. Slipped on the rug." I pushed my hair back one final time and glanced up at Owen, but my eyes only made it to his hand holding a bag from one of the boutiques in town. "What's that?"

"Something I picked up for you this morning."

"Before lunch?" I asked, almost scared something was going to pop out of the bag.

"Yep." Owen smirked in the way that could either be described as sexy or mischievous. Neither appealed to me at the moment. "Do you want to see what it is?"

"No. Not really."

He laughed, one of those deep belly laughs you felt down to your soul. I couldn't help but join in.

"Come on. Don't you trust me?"

"That's a loaded question, Owen."

"Fine. I'll take it back."

Reaching out, I snatched the white bag out of his grip. "Never." When I felt inside, I held my breath, secretly praying my hand would not come in contact with a bug or something else equally as gross. Instead, I was surprised to feel the softest of materials.

Lifting the fabric in one hand and dropping the bag to the floor with my other, I was stunned to find a lovely silk dress. The color was the most beautiful shade of purple, between eggplant and maroon. I couldn't decide, as the light from the setting sun hit it in different areas.

"Owen, this is gorgeous. Thank you."

"You're welcome."

"Did you pick this out yourself?" I asked, inspecting the dress closer. The sleeves would hang off my shoulders, and the hem would hit just above my knees.

"I did."

The tag hung loosely around the underside of the sleeve, and I tried my best to ignore it, but the triple zeroes immediately caught my eye. The silk was the nicest I'd ever felt, but I wasn't sure I would be willing to pay a couple thousand dollars for it. I'd stepped into Nicole's Boutique in town, and she sold all sorts of items. Some bargain and some high-end. She catered to everyone. It was why her store was a success. But I'd never looked at the racks with the designer labels. Not because I didn't have the money for them, but because working on the farm didn't necessitate that sort of clothing.

"I want to argue about you spending this much money on me, but I'm not going to," I explained as I hugged the dress against my body.

"Really? I expected a full-blown shitstorm to be honest."

"I can give you one, if you'd like, but I'd rather just thank you again. I've never had something this nice before." Stepping toward him, I stood on my toes, my lips barely reaching his jawline, and I left a lingering kiss. "I'm going to wear this tonight. I'll be right back."

I hurried up the stairs, whipped my black dress off my body, and replaced it with the purple garment. Standing in front of the mirror, I twisted back and forth, admiring the way it set on my body. The silk dress looked like it had been made for me.

I considered pulling my hair up into a twist but instead left my hair in long, loose waves. Trudging through my closet, I reached for a pair of black-and-tan espadrilles that were a gift from Jenna I'd never worn. Slipping them on my feet, I walked back and forth in the wedges to make sure I would not topple over, then made my way back down the stairs.

I felt like Lainey Boggs from She's All That walking down the steps, and Owen was my own Freddie Prinze Jr. In my head, "Kiss Me" was playing on repeat.

"Wow," Owen breathed. "You look beautiful."

"Thanks." Just then, my stomach chose that moment to chime into the conversation. "Sorry. I haven't eaten yet."

"That's okay. I thought we could stop by Angelo's then hit the 9:00 p.m. movie."

Internally, I counted the hours of sleep I'd get if I got home by midnight. Wake-up was usually at four or five. Normal Aspen would have complained. Normal Aspen would have asked to skip dinner and head to the movie early. Non-social Aspen would have suggested skipping it all together.

But the new Aspen who was trying to live her life smiled at her fake date and grabbed his outstretched hand as he guided her from her house. New Aspen ordered a glass of wine with her baked ziti. And the new Aspen chose a seat in the back row of the movie theater, where she and her fake boyfriend could make out through the entire movie.

At one point, we even knocked the tub of popcorn to the floor.

The old Aspen really liked this new Aspen, regardless of the fact that things would likely go back to the way they were when Owen left.

But this Aspen was going to live for the moment, no matter how few hours of sleep I was going to get. And when Owen asked if I wanted to go back to his place for a bit after the movie, I immediately accepted.