Preston's Honor Page 3

  Lia was still in the water, bent over, focused on something in her hand. She stood and grinned at us, lifting whatever it was she was holding. My heart jerked to a stop in my chest and then resumed beating in rapid staccato. Christ, she was gorgeous under ordinary circumstances, but standing in the water like that, soaking wet, her T-shirt and shorts stuck to her body showcasing every new curve, her deeply tanned skin practically glowing in the sunlight, she was stunning. I stared, unable to drag my eyes away, my chest pinching. She was so beautiful sometimes it hurt me to look at her.

  “Look, it’s shaped like a heart,” she called. My brain felt fuzzy, and I had to focus on her words. With difficulty, I moved my eyes from her face to the thing she was holding in her hand. It appeared to be a piece of sea glass. I felt my lips tip up. Wasn’t it just like Lia to find a piece of glass in the shape of a heart? She was always finding shapes in clouds, assigning feelings to inanimate objects, noticing things no one else saw. As for me, I only noticed her. That had been the case for a while now, but suddenly, my feelings for her were not only an ache in my chest, but a very real ache in the region between my legs. I looked away. She was only fourteen and in some ways, I still thought of her as a kid. My feelings for her made me feel confused and slightly ashamed.

  Cole was staring at her, too, his expression lazy, his eyes unabashedly roaming her body. “Hey Lia,” he called, “I thought I saw another piece of sea glass over by that big rock there.” He pointed behind her and she looked back, walking over to where he pointed and bending to look more closely at the water.

  I glanced back at Cole and his mouth was curved into a satisfied smile as his eyes focused on her exposed backside, the rounded undersides of her ass cheeks barely showing at the edges of her shorts. I shoved at him and he laughed, shooting me an unrepentant grin and winking. “You’re welcome,” he mouthed.

  “Stop it,” I muttered so only he could hear.

  “No, a little farther to the right,” he said, his eyes glued to her ass again. She bent even closer to the water. “Or maybe it was to the left,” he drawled. I elbowed him hard, angry that he was teasing her that way. He let out a sound that was somewhere between an “ooph” and a laugh.

  Lia’s body stilled right before she reached behind her to pull her shorts down. She stood up quickly and faced Cole, her eyes narrowed. She had realized what he was doing. She picked up a small rock and hurled it at him. It hit him square in the shoulder, and he grunted in pain. I laughed.

  “Ouch,” Cole said, examining the small red mark on his tan shoulder. “You’ve marred me.”

  “You deserved it,” Lia said, emerging from the water.

  Cole laughed and leaned back on one elbow. “I did,” he admitted on a grin. “I hope you can forgive me.”

  Lia stuck her tongue out at Cole as she walked back toward us, but then laughed when he pretended to stab himself in the heart. She sat down on a rock next to me, holding the small piece of glass up, her smile filled with pleasure. She squinted over at me, and my heart flipped again.

  Her eyes . . . I’d never get used to the beauty of her light eyes emphasized by her bronzed skin. I thought about her mother—a short, slender, Mexican woman with darker skin than Lia’s and straight, black hair. I guessed Lia’s green eyes came from her father, but when I’d asked about him once years before she’d only shrugged and said she didn’t know him. And then she’d changed the subject.

  Lia never talked about her home life, though it was obvious she was poor, and even if I didn’t go to the same high school as her and didn’t see the old clothes she wore and the secondhand backpack she carried with someone else’s initials on it, I’d know because her mother had worked on our farm. Although our dad paid all his farm workers fairly, it was still barely above minimum wage. I didn’t imagine the shabby motel her mom worked in now paid much more, maybe even less.

  I’d heard my dad vouching for her mom’s reliability when the people who owned the farm next to ours called about her renting an outbuilding on their property, so I knew Lia lived in what had once been nothing more than a storage shed.

  The knowledge of Lia’s poverty caused a strange sort of anger to boil in my gut, though I wasn’t sure exactly who I was angry with. It was a helpless rage, one I couldn’t direct anywhere specific, so it lashed out and then, directionless, found its way straight back to me.

  I looked at her now in her wet T-shirt and shorts, knowing she wore them because she didn’t have a swimsuit. It was the reason we never invited her with us to the town pool where we were members.

  Even Cole, with his constant jokes and devil-may-care attitude was sensitive to the fact that Lia didn’t have the things we did.

  We’d seen her less and less since we’d grown from children to teenagers. She still walked over to our farm now and again and if we were outside and saw her, we spent a lazy afternoon cooling off in the shallow creek that ran behind our property. Or if we didn’t have much time for a break, or if it was too chilly, we’d rest under a tree and just talk.

  Mostly I watched her grow older from afar. Both living for and dreading those times we’d have a few stolen hours, or even minutes, to spend together. I loved spending time with her, but it was always too short and never quite enough.

  I noticed as her legs grew longer and her hips and breasts began to round slightly in the beginnings of womanhood. My mouth went dry whenever I looked at her for too long and I ached to touch her. But I also felt that same protective instinct I’d always felt for her since the moment we’d met. It was weird, because in some ways, Lia was a mystery to me—so secretive about her home life, so dismissive about the dreams in her eyes—but in other ways, I felt like I knew so much about her. She was pensive and kind, giving yet remote, and she exuded a gentleness I’d never felt so strongly in another person.

  I thought back to the first time we met. Cole and I had accidentally surprised her as she was wandering down a strawberry row that’d just been picked, holding a ripe berry to her lips. She’d jolted when we’d stepped out in front of her, her eyes wide and her mouth stopping mid-chew.

  “That strawberry belongs to us,” Cole had teased, holding out his hand. “You have to give it back.”

  She hadn’t understood that he was kidding and her face had grown pale, her beautiful light green eyes blinking up at him. I watched the exchange, wordless, mesmerized by her pretty oval face, the soft vulnerability in her gaze, and something inside me, which I had no idea how to identify, went completely, utterly still. I felt a constriction in my chest and I suddenly wanted to push Cole aside, to step in front, to protect her from him, from the world, from anything hard and hurtful that might potentially harm her. The feeling confused me and made me pause, unsure of what to do or where the sudden urge had come from.

  Then she’d leaned forward, opened her mouth and let the chewed-up strawberry plop wetly onto Cole’s outstretched hand. For a moment, he and I had stared at it in shocked silence and then Cole had shouted with laughter, doubling over and almost falling on the ground. Maybe we’d both loved her from that first moment—though Cole was never one to be stingy with his affections. Cole loved everyone. Cole loved the whole wide world.

  And the whole world loved him, too. Though his teasing could go a bit too far, it was always obvious he never meant any true harm.

  We’d begun spending time with her whenever we could after that, seeking her out among the rows of strawberry plants. Even though our mom disapproved of our friendship and told us to stop running around with her, we didn’t. Our mom disapproved of almost everything, but Lia’s sweetness and easy smile were far too appealing.

  “I’m going to miss this place someday,” she said, looking around, shooting Cole a smile. It was their thing, their inside joke. Jealousy bubbled up inside me, and I tried my best to squash it.

  “Yeah?” Cole asked, winking at her. “Why? Where are you going to be?”

  She shrugged, turning her body toward us. I willed my eyes not to move down to
her T-shirt where I knew I’d see the outline of her bra, maybe even her small, hardened nipples. I shifted where I was sitting, trying to relieve that damn ache.

  “Anywhere else,” she murmured, looking out to the small creek where we’d been coming since we were little kids. “Maybe I’ll move to Italy and grow grapes.”

  Or you could marry me and grow strawberries, I wanted to say, but that sounded stupid, even in my own head. And not much of an offer. My father had made that same offer to my mother once upon a time, and she’d taken him up on it and look how that had turned out—two people who could barely stand to be in the same room as the other. Not that Lia was anything like my mom, but still.

  Lia and Cole had always talked about where they were going to go when they left the Central Valley. It wasn’t big enough for them. They always wanted . . . more. And in a way I understood them both. Of course Lia would want to get out of here and experience something other than the life of poverty she’d led so far. And as for Cole, he was my brother, my twin—I’d listened to him talk about the places he wanted to go, the things he wanted to see, since we could talk. But I also wondered if any place was big enough for Cole—he was always running after more, always wanting new experiences that would trump the old ones. And he was always devising ways to get what he wanted. I had no doubt he’d hold the world in his hands if that’s what he decided to go after.

  Cole laid back on the rock and put his hands behind his head, closing his eyes. In a few minutes he was breathing deeply, and I knew he was asleep. He’d been out the night before with Shayna Daws, and he’d snuck into the room we shared close to three, smelling like beer and Shayna’s perfume. It was no wonder he was exhausted.

  Quietly, I moved over to the rock Lia was sitting on and gestured toward the piece of sea glass. It was pale aqua, the edges smoothed by the water. And it did look like a heart. “Kind of reminds me of your eyes.”

  She turned that pale gaze my way, looking at me with a sweet smile on her lips. “My eyes?” she asked softly.

  “The color,” I murmured. “It’s so unusual. Beautiful.”

  A small frown flitted over her face before she seemed to force a smile and looked back to the heart she was holding. Had I said something wrong? Taking the glass between the thumb and index fingers of both hands, she snapped it in half. I jolted slightly, not understanding the action, and then she turned and handed me one half. She took my hand and I felt a small spark at the contact of our skin. Her eyes lingered for a moment on our hands before she said, “Someday I’m going to leave here, but a part of my heart is going to remain. With you.”

  My breath caught. I took the small piece of broken glass and put it in the pocket of my swim trunks. When I looked back at her, her gaze was running down my naked chest. Her eyes blinked up to mine and her cheeks filled with color before she looked away, back down to where she held her own half of the glass heart. Was she looking at me with the same awareness that I watched her? At the mere possibility, my whole body suddenly felt far too hot. My eyes moved to her mouth—those full luscious lips with the small beauty mark at the corner—and I grew painfully hard. I wanted to kiss her so badly. It was a yearning not only in my body but in my heart.

  “Why do you have to leave?” I asked. “You could stay.”

  She shook her head, a look of pain crossing her expression. “Don’t you want to experience the world?” she asked, leaning back on one elbow and gazing at the trees.

  “I don’t know. Maybe.” No. Something about not wanting more caused me embarrassment, as if Lia might look down on me if she knew that everything I ever wanted out of life was here. As far as I was concerned, there was nothing more, or at least nothing better. Everything that filled my soul was all around me—the land, the farm, my best friend and brother, and Annalia Del Valle.

  You’re just like him.

  I heard my mother’s voice in my head, the disappointment with which she said the words. Yes, I supposed I was just like my father. I loved farming, loved the smell of dirt and the way the tiny shoots pushed their way out of the ground. I took satisfaction in work that required the strength of my body and my own two hands. I felt a deep pride in our family business, knowing that the food we grew was shipped all over the United States, that a part of our labor of love was placed on dinner tables and in fancy restaurants, in grocery stores, and picnic baskets. For that, I was simple, I guessed. Simple, introverted, and far too serious, just exactly the way he was. And I didn’t know how to be any different even when I made a point to try.

  According to my mother, my father had stifled her, given her a life that leeched the joy right out of her soul and left her a restless, dissatisfied person. At least that’s what I’d heard her say to Grandma Lois a few years ago before she’d died. Would I do the same to Lia? If I asked her to stay with me someday, would she lose her joy and become restless, too? I frowned slightly, disturbed by my own line of thinking.

  “How are you liking high school so far?” I asked, wanting to change the subject. We were in school together now, but we’d never been before. She’d gone to different elementary and middle schools.

  Her eyes lingered on me a beat too long, but then she shrugged, looking away. “It’s fine.”

  “How come you never come over to sit with us at lunch? You never even say hi.”

  She smiled, tilting her head, her dark curls falling over her shoulder and causing my breath to catch. “You’re all older and . . . I’m not part of that crowd.”

  “You could be.”

  She shook her head, looking away again, that same troubled frown reappearing. “No, I couldn’t be, even if I tried. Remember what happened when I tried to go blonde? It’s about parameters.”

  I gave her a confused frown, the word pricking at my memory, though I couldn’t quite place it. “Parameters?”

  She laughed softly. “Some things shouldn’t be forced, let’s put it that way.”

  Her words saddened me. Did she think she wouldn’t be accepted if she hung out with us at school? I’d just assumed she’d rather sit with the people she sat with in the lunchroom—kind of a motley crew, but they were her friends. But if she was staying away from Cole and me in public because she thought we’d rather it be that way, I had to set her straight. The only reason we ever excluded her from anything—like the public pool—was if we thought it would make her feel awkward or put her in an uncomfortable position. “Lia—”

  Cole let out a loud yawning moan and sat up, distracting me from what I’d been about to say. “How long was I out?”

  “Not long.”

  He sat up fully, running a hand through his hair. “We should go, Pres. We’re supposed to help Dad on the farm today.”

  I nodded reluctantly. I could have stayed on that sunny rock for the rest of the afternoon, talking softly to Lia and listening to the lap of the creek as it ran past us. But there was never a lack of work to do on a farm and this had been meant only as a short break from the heat.

  “I’ll walk you home,” I said to Lia as we all stood and began gathering our things. I didn’t know exactly where she lived but I knew the general direction.

  “Don’t be silly. I’ve made the walk a thousand times.”

  I pictured her walking through the farmlands and back roads, her long, browned legs moving swiftly, her dark curls flowing down her back, and felt the grip of protectiveness I’d always felt for Lia and usually wasn’t certain how to manage. She was so damned independent. So insistent on doing everything by herself. “I think—”

  “Stop thinking so much,” she teased. “I’m fine. Anyhow, I have to go into town to pick up a few things for my mama so I’ll be on public roads the whole time.”

  “Then I’ll go back to the farm and get our truck.” Dad had bought Cole and me a new truck on our seventeenth birthday. Even though we had to work out a schedule of who used it when, it was so much better than having to borrow our parents’ cars. And it worked out because Cole went out far more often than I d
id anyway. If he wanted to use it, it was generally available.

  But Annalia waved me off. “No. I like to walk.” I wanted to push it, but what was I supposed to do? Force her to accept a ride when she had made it clear she didn’t want one?

  “All right,” I said, sighing. I supposed she had made the walk a thousand times and was even more familiar than I was with everything along the way.

  We said goodbye and began the short walk back to our farm. I got lost in my own thoughts and didn’t notice that Cole was quieter than usual until he stopped, turning toward me, one hand on the towel slung over his shoulder. “I think I’m going to ask Lia out.”

  For a minute the words didn’t make sense and then a fierce blast of jealousy punched at my guts. “What?”

  “Oh come on, you haven’t noticed how gorgeous she is?”

  “Of course I have. But Lia’s always been gorgeous.”

  He squinted up at the sun. “Yeah, but she was a kid. Now . . .”

  “She’s only fourteen.”

  “Old enough.”

  “Old enough for what?” My voice sounded like a cold hiss, even in my own head. I scratched my bare stomach, feigning nonchalance.

  Cole’s smile was slow and knowing. “Old enough to kiss.”

  “Lia’s never been kissed before.”

  “How do you know?”

  “I just . . . fucking do,” I sputtered. Or I figured. Who would she be kissing? I suddenly felt mildly panicked as if I hadn’t been paying enough attention and someone had wormed his way past me and gotten to my Lia. My Lia? Maybe I’d taken it for granted that she’d just always be there, and all I needed to do was wait for her to grow up a little bit.

  “Are you interested in Lia, Pres?” he asked casually.

  “Yeah. But she’s too young now. I just . . .” I was waiting for her. I’ve always been waiting for her. I ran my hand through my hair. I wasn’t just . . . interested, didn’t just think she was pretty. It was more than that. I didn’t know how to voice my feelings for Lia, even to my brother. The emotions inside me felt too big to put into words.