I put on my jacket and cap while Cricket reached for her headscarf, pulled it down and ruffled her bangs before grabbing her own coat. She wasn’t wearing her usual jacket but rather a floor-length brown suede one. I took it from her and helped her in it. I wanted very badly to run my hands down the curves of her coat, but I restrained myself.
“Come on,” she said. “I’ll give you a ride.”
She put out the fire in the stove and I followed her around the side of the little building to another four-wheeler. She got on and started the engine. I hesitated a moment, knowing this would be the closest my body had ever been to hers. I straddled the seat behind her, my legs bracing the sides of both of hers. My hands itched to run the length of her thighs, so I tucked them into my sides.
“Hold on,” she whispered, making me reel. I peeled my hands away from myself and wrapped them around her tiny waist. I nearly groaned at the feel of her.
We lurched forward and her hair whipped with the wind, sending the unlikely scent of her vanilla and grapefruit shampoo my way. It was such an odd combination but I recognized it immediately. Oh God, can’t I just run my fingers through it? Just once? I breathed deeply and my eyes slid into the back of my head.
All too soon, we were at my door and I slid off, away from her warmth, away from her scent.
I walked up the steps and turned back around. “Goodnight, Cricket Hunt.”
“Goodnight, Spencer Blackwell.”
Chapter Twenty-One
I laid down and tried to sleep. I knew I was going to be exhausted the next day as it was, but I couldn’t keep my thoughts from straying toward Cricket.
I used to keep this obnoxious list of criteria for the girls I dated. I would often hang with my friends and we would amend it, sharpen it up, add a few things. I kept the list and used it, even after I graduated prep school. These were the basics.
1) She must be a minimum of five foot ten.
2) Her hair can never be cut above the shoulders.
3) No fatties, but she has to maintain enough curves to satisfy.
4) No smaller than a C-cup.
5) Private school educated.
6) She must run in our circle.
7) Minimum seventy-five thousand dollar vehicle.
Now for my more personal preferences:
8) Blonde.
9) Elegant features.
10) Perfectly symmetrical face.
11) Facial features must look balanced.
12) No nicknames.
13) Quiet.
14) No clingers.
I’d memorized the list. Oh my God, I thought, what a douche I’ve been.
Cricket had obliterated it, just annihilated my previous criteria. She only shared a few attributes on the list, but I’d discovered something that evening that startled me. It didn’t matter to me what I wanted before, because I somehow didn’t want that anymore. I wanted someone short, thin and wispy with chin-length dark hair. Someone with grit, with gumption, with personality, with character, with humor. Someone who represented feisty, capable and talented. Someone like Cricket.
Cricket was my new criteria.
I crossed my arms across my chest and fell to sleep with a stupid grin on my face.
“Well, she’s disgusting,” Piper said, filing at a nail.
“What?” I asked, spinning around in my stool to face her.
“This Cricket you speak of. She sounds dumb. She has no direction. She doesn’t want to stay at her grandparents’ ranch, but she’s too afraid to tell them so. She has no direction. She doesn’t share your dream. She’s not meant for you. Besides, she’s a frail little thing. Not very attractive, if you ask me.” My blood was boiling at a dangerous level. I found myself panting to control the anger. My fists coiled at my sides. “She’s going to take your money,” Piper provoked.
I unexpectedly launched myself at Piper and wrapped my hand around her throat. Her nail file rang out as it hit the tile beneath our feet.
“Take. That. Back,” I gritted.
My hand tightened and her face began to look purple but instead of desperation, Piper’s eyes delighted in mischief and she smiled. I removed my hand and sat once more to calm myself down.
“Sensitive?” she asked, catching her breath and leaning against the subzero in her ridiculous silk gown.
“Don’t ever talk about her like that,” I ordered, still trying to tame my temper.
Piper laughed.
“You’re losing sight of what you’re doing. You’re too distracted. You need to focus. Girls will come and go, but this opportunity you’ve been presented is a once-in-a-lifetime thing.”
My eyes narrowed on her. “How-how do you know about that?” I asked. “No one knows about that.”
Piper sprawled out over the large island and faced me, her crimson hair cascading all around her. “I know everything,” she whispered. She ran a hand across the flat of her belly and patted it once. “Like when I knew Bridge was going to get pregnant...I orchestrated it!” she giggled insanely. “Just like I knew your mama would always stay with your father because she’s too cowardly and lazy to create a new life for herself. She’d rather taint her children with your father’s vile influence than save their souls.” My teeth began to grit. “I know everything. Just like I knew that teller would offer her body to get a little piece of your fortune.” Her voice dropped to a murmur. “Like I knew you would take those photographs. As I said, I know everything.” She laughed. “It’s almost too easy. People make it way too easy. No one has conviction these days. It’s pathetic. It’s not even fun anymore.”