Prologue
I said I wanna touch the earth
I wanna break it in my hands
I wanna grow something wild and unruly
I wanna sleep on the hard ground
In the comfort of your arms
On a pillow of bluebonnets
In a blanket made of stars
-"Cowboy Take Me Away" by Dixie Chicks
July 22, 2013
I never expected anything to happen that dark, starry night. It was just supposed to be a couple of friends, hanging out around the bonfire, drinking beer and Bacardi while playing wild, drunken games until the sun came up. But you know what they say; "when you least expect it, that's when it'll happen."
It was like suddenly the crowd parted and he appeared.
Any normal person with eyes could see how Godly he almost looked. He had a brownish-red buzz cut that was shorter on the sides than the top and his strong chiseled jaw had a slight dusting of stubble. He was wearing a plaid red and gray buttoned down shirt that was open, making the formfitting black shirt underneath visible. The sleeves of the top shirt were rolled up to his elbows and when he crossed his arms, his defined muscles seemed to bulge underneath his skin, stretching the material taut. His faded, ripped blue jeans were loose around his hips and the bottoms of them were tucked into an old, worn out pair of tan combat boots that definitely had seen better days.
His green eyes seemed to follow my every move that night. No matter where I was or what I was doing, I felt them on me. I was hyper aware of him and when he finally walked over to me and asked me to dance to Kip Moore's, "Hey Pretty Girl," I knew that I couldn't say no to this man.
We danced and laughed for hours. It was like we were in our own little bubble. No one and nothing could touch us. The sparks that ran up and along my body were constantly there and they seemed to become even more intense when a slow song played on the radio. In those moments our bodies were pressed so tightly together that not even a pin could wiggle its way between us.
Eventually, we split away from our small group, hand in hand, and walked over to the giant red barn that housed my beautiful brown mare, Mel and my brother's beast Lander. We talked endlessley about everything and anything that came to mind, cuddling atop an old, dusty gray blanket, that had pieces of hay sticking to it, until we both feel asleep wrapped in each other's arms, our legs tangled together.
That night was perfect. And I knew that I had only three people to thank.
Rosalie.
Alice.
And God.
