Author's Note: I just need to state how amazing you all are. The love for this story is overwhelming & truly inspires. Thank you so much! I'll keep this short, but I do want to warn all of those who aren't too found of Gale/Johanna..you're not going to be very happy with that aspect of the story. My apologies, but at least you know. I also want to note that this chapter jumps about a month.

Thank you, thank you, thank you to my wonderful and so very speedy beta, Court81981. Your ideas and beta abilities are out of this world. Thank you for making this chapter all that it could be!

Now, without further ado: Enjoy!

Summary: There are also three types of people in Dawson, Texas: those who are trying to flee, those who embrace their small town fate, and the Mellarks. Mellark Ranch; largest cattle ranch South of Dallas, employer of ranch hand, Katniss Everdeen, and home of Ohio State Buckeye running back, Peeta Mellark. And Peeta Mellark is coming home today.

Lone Star State of Mine
Chapter Nine: Hey Pretty Girl

"Gonna make you mine, there's a real good chance."

Summertime.

It's a cliché, sure. But it's one thing people always looking forward to. Whether you live in California or Montana, there is just a certain air to summertime that no other season can compare to. From the time you're born it's engrained into your existence the greatness that is summertime.

When you're in school, you count down the days until your freedom finally calls with that last bell. You never have any sort of big plans for the three months you've been longing for, but that's the point. There is no longer an agenda that someone else dictates for you. You can do whatever you want — and there is nothing stopping you. Well, except maybe your parents. But as you get older you learn to sideswipe their rules like a rogue pitch.

You want to stay out late breaking the rules? Well, you're staying at a friend's house. You want to skip town for a weekend away? Well, you're joining a local volunteer organization to help gain you something colleges are looking for. The ideas are endless. And the crazier you get the better the stories get.

Of course, my knowledge on the subject is simply hearsay, but in a small town like Dawson, hearsay is practically scientific fact.

Summertime is what we're all looking forward to, even when we get older. Sure, we work year round and the three month stint of "freedom" is over, but summer is still summer. The days are longer and the nights are that much more jam-packed with happenings. And the best part? You are now old enough to not to need an excuse to feed your parents.

And like winter has Christmas or fall has Thanksgiving, summer has the Fourth of July.

A southern small town will make a festivity out of any tradition during the summer, but Fourth of July holds merit all its own. Not only are we showing much gratitude for those who have served to keep this fair country safe, but we're also putting all the bullshit aside and standing together to say that we actually are thankful for this nation. Everyone can celebrate something like that.

And Dawson is certainly no exception. There have been cookouts and fireworks lighting up the Fourth of July in this town since the very beginning. At one point the high school was in charge of the celebrations and then the town hall took over. The festivities would start early that morning with church ladies showing off their baking muscles, followed by different games for the children, and then when the sun finally went down, everyone would look toward the sky for the main event. But like the population, the funds started to dwindle and the festival was soon to be a thing of the past.

Of course, in true small town 'caped crusader' fashion, Mr. Mellark picked up the cause and ran with it. The Independence Day festivities have been on Mellark Ranch since before Prim was born. At first, most of those in attendance were employees, but then word got out that Mr. Mellark wasn't about to deny anyone their patriotic pleasure of a day off amongst friendly faces. Ever since, the town has started showing up nearly in time for breakfast on that blissful holiday.

With hosting the town's largest summer event comes the preparation, and that's something the entire ranch has come to be a part of nearly two weeks before it takes place. It's normally something I'm looking forward to — not that I don't enjoy my usual tasks — but a little change never hurt anyone. Even me. I like setting up the large barbeque pit with Mr. Mellark. I enjoy the peaceful task of clearing part of the pasture with Gale. I even find entertainment in cleaning up the main barn with Jackie. But this year I hardly even notice June turn into July.

I blame this on the youngest Mellark.

Distraction doesn't even begin to describe how much he's invaded my thoughts or my time. I didn't even know it was possible to be this distracted by one human being. Better yet, I didn't know it was possible to want to be this distracted by one human being.

In the morning, I always start off with the best of intentions. I am going to eat a quick breakfast, not think about Peeta, meet up with Gale to start work, not think about Peeta, spend the day doing our assigned task, and not think about Peeta. But somewhere between breakfast and meeting up with Gale, my mind slips back to that curly haired blond.

My memory slips back to the time he snuck up behind me in the barn, wrapped his arms around my waist, placed a light kiss at the nape of my neck, and without a word was gone. The fire that ignited inside me kept me distracted the rest of the afternoon.

Or the evening we spent in the bed of his truck talking and simply staring up at the sky like the kind of cheesy romance novels I used to scowl at.

But my troubles truly start when I catch him out in the horse stalls. My original plan is to simply wish him a good morning and maybe a kiss or two, but that all goes awry when I see him.

He looks beyond decadent in his simple t-shirt and jeans. His hair is going every which way due to his lack of caring once he rolled out of bed. But I am completely lost when I see his eyes. How blue they look against his freshly tanned cheeks. His smile welcomes me as he continues to work on several horseshoes. The welcome is heartfelt and quiet and I return it as I slowly walk toward him.

I've become bold in our few weeks together, but I am not sure if it's an intention to be bold or a simple need for him. In my quiet moments I am almost afraid of how much I seem to need him, but then he comes around and I'm not sure how I lived so long without this feeling. And this morning is no different.

"Good morning," I greet him casually, a smirk playing at my lips. My hand comes against his clothed side as I walk up behind him. I've come to crave this closeness in a way I never thought I would.

"Good morning," he counters, setting down the horseshoe he was working on and letting his hand come atop the one I have against his side.

The silence is loaded and it thrills me. I feel my temperature rising and my skin tingles where he's touching me. For the flash of a second I wonder what those calloused hands would feel like against all of my skin. I am thankful my face is out of his full view since the blush I cannot contain covers my features. The thought is one I have entertained before, but I've never dared to cross that territory in his presence. Until now.

"How was your two hours of sleep last night?" he asks and I can hear the grin on his face as my cheek presses against his shoulder blade.

He knows I'm exhausted. And so is he. We spent most of the night up in the hayloft, intentionally forgetting we both were expected to be working first thing the next morning. Time was easy to forget when I was with him. The rational side of me screamed at the problems that could cause, but my reckless side was winning over. My reckless side saw nothing wrong in spending every second with him.

"Refreshing." I joked, and his laugh vibrating through his chest.

"Liar."

He easily changes our position so I'm standing in front of him and my heart rate increases as I finally get a close look at his face — the face I could spend hours watching. Every expression, every glance, every nervous habit. I could memorize each one. I lace our fingers together in one hand as I feel his free hand landing at the curve of my waist.

If any more words were going to be shared between us they were long forgotten when I feel Peeta's lips against mine. The kiss is languid at first, neither of us having plans for it to go further. Then I feel the fingertips of his free hand graze underneath the hem of my shirt. And something is lit inside of me. My arms wrap around his neck, and he grips my hips with both hands.

I can't get close enough to him and the feeling must be mutual because he's lifting me to sit atop the workbench and stepping between my legs. My heart is in my throat, but my lack of nerves is surprising. His hands are beneath my shirt, against the small of my back while mine are clenching in his already disheveled curls at the nape of his neck. I let his tongue slip between my lips to tangle with mine. He still tastes like the toothpaste he's used this morning.

It is in that moment I realize how much I want him. Not just now, like how we are. But I want more of him. And I am not even sure what all "more" is. I'm not an idiot; I know what sex is. I had to take the embarrassing week of health class just like everyone else and Gale has never been shy about the subject, but the steps that supposedly lead to the 'main event' are a complete mystery.

I'm not sure if the 'ready' that everyone talks about is something I will instantly feel or if it's something that will slowly build in me. But the need that's rising in me is so palpable that I feel like I could reach out and grab it.

And then fear creeps in and I'm terrified that this is all coming too fast. We've been together for a little over a month, and I'm not sure what Peeta is expecting. Does he plan for it to go that far? Of course, he's a male and I have to believe that on some level he probably does. But he hasn't pressured me. There are times like these when I can feel how much I excite him and as much as that frightens me, it also thrills me. And he never comments on it. He takes the lead, but it seems only enough to give me courage. The rest is my decision. It's the silent kind of promise he's made to me. I'm grateful.

But my thoughts have gotten the best of me and I break the kiss before my body wants me to. My eyes remain closed as I rest my forehead against his. Our ragged breath mingles together and my nerves are still zapping beneath my skin. I feel Peeta pull away enough to kiss me lightly in the cheek before I open my eyes to look into his, and they are darker than I've ever seen them.

He laughs. "Feel free to greet me that way always."

My inner turmoil subsides as I smile, lightly shoving at his shoulder. I roll my eyes, but I like the idea. I just wish my mind wouldn't have gotten the best of me in that moment. Or maybe it was a good thing — we are in an open area after all.

I lean forward, pressing another kiss to his lips before jumping down from the workbench. I remain stationary in front of him, suddenly not wanting to be any further from him. But that's irrational. There is still work to be done — even for those in love.

He smiles, stepping away first to get back to work and I wish him a good day before I start to leave the horse stalls. It's not until I'm at the doorway that my stomach turns and I stop dead in my tracks. I turn back to look at him, my heart pounding. He looks back up at me with a confused smile.

"Did you say something?" he asks.

I shake my head, afraid words won't come out even if I will them to. I give a quick wave and leave the stalls.

I've fallen in love with Peeta Mellark.

"This is your first time at this, isn't it?" Johanna asks, taking a bit from the piece of celery in her hand and looks over at me.

My plan wasn't to spend my day with the nosiest girl this side of the Mason Dixon Line, but as fates would have it, she's actually a pretty decent worker and I needed her help moving all the different picnic tables for the events happening the next day. Now we sit atop one of said picnic tables to have a quick bite to eat before getting back to work.

I look over at her, not even remotely sure what she's talking about, and the confusion must be painted on my face because she laughs. She pops the rest of her celery stick into her mouth, reaching over for a bottle of water. I'm still waiting, and she's still not explaining. She takes her time getting a drink before looking back over at me.

"Well, I've been in love before," Johanna begins, "I mean, I thought I was in love. I was in high school. And the guy was a total tool. Of course, at the time I thought he was some kind of god among men."

If she notices my shock, she doesn't say anything or even react. What is she talking about? Love? I had just barely realized it myself. How the hell was she figuring it out? I am not even sure I am in love. My experience with love is next to none. I loved my father desperately. I love Prim unconditionally. And I think I love Gale like one would love a brother, but romantic love? My knowledge on the subject is nonexistent.

And that's beside the point. The real question is why am I having this conversation with Johanna?

"Took my virginity and took off like a thief in the night." Johanna continues, still unaware of my internal screaming. "And then there was the guy from freshman year. That was the reckless kind of love, I guess. Neither of us was any good for one another, but maybe that's what made us so entertaining to each other. The sex was great, though."

I'm having this conversation. We are actually having this conversation. I think having the "Birds and Bees" conversation with my mother was less mortifying.

"Anyway, I'll spare you the toe-curling details." Johanna finally looks over at me, "My point is, Peeta's the real deal. You know?"

Honestly? It's not Peeta I'm concerned about. I've known Peeta long enough to see his true colors: the loyalty he has for those he cares for; the selflessness he shows on a daily basis; the silent strength he hides from his mother's behavior behind. He'll be the "real deal" to whomever he's with because it's in his nature.

It's me that becomes the real problem. I'm not a terrible person, but I don't think I'm easy to deal with either. I am naturally suspicious. I have a tendency to run from all problems. I've always done things on my own. I'm not sure being with someone else is what I'm meant for.

But that doesn't stop me from wanting it. Wanting it with Peeta.

"And he's crazy about you." Johanna smirks. "But you probably already knew that. Don't think I haven't noticed that he's hardly ever in his room before early morning. I sleep across the hall. And Peeta is a lot of things, but quiet is not one of them."

My blush is probably covered from the warmth that's already spread across my cheeks due to the sun, but that doesn't stop me from feeling it. I also feel a small sense of pride. I like that I'm the reason Peeta is sneaking back inside at night. And I like that Johanna knows about it. Finally my laugh escapes me and mingles with Johanna's.

Slowly she becomes serious again and looks over at me, "You're like me."

No, I'm not like Johanna Mason.

"You have your guard up always. Like everyone is the enemy. I've seen it. Even with Gale, you're ready for things to fall apart," She says, her eyes never leaving mine. "And I get that. After I lost my parents I became the same way. I put my guard up assuming no one would want to waste their time breaking through it. But sometimes they do."

I'm grateful for her silence because I know she is right and I don't need the reminder. I don't need to be reminded of how the day my father died, I became an entirely different person. I became someone who sees the world as a battlefield. And up until the beginning of this summer, I never saw a real problem with that.

Johanna is the first to start packing our lunch away. She tosses the empty sandwich bags and snack bags in the lunch box, pulling out another bottle of water before she closes the cooler. Normally I would be helping even in this small task, but I'm still deep in thought when she hands me the lunch box to put back in the truck.

"All I'm saying," she continues as though we haven't been in silence for the last five minutes. "is when someone is willing to stick around and break down those walls, maybe you should let them."

Prim can't get out of the truck fast enough when we pull up to Mellark Ranch. She's been talking about this night nearly nonstop since last week. Of course, most people have been talking about this night nearly nonstop since Christmas. She doesn't say anything, but I know it has something to do with Rory. I'd warn her to be careful, but at this point I don't believe I'm one to be giving that lecture.

I watch as she runs off toward her group of friends already that is gathered at a nearby picnic table before I scan the rest of the event. The cars lining the driveway don't even begin to explain the amount of people on the property. Most are mingling around the picnic tables eating dinner. There are already some that have taken advantage of the music playing in the barn. I remember that has always been a teen favorite since it gave you the excuse to get close to that one person you couldn't get enough of.

My eyes still haven't landed on Peeta when I see Gale walking my way with an extra cup in hand. I smile, accepting his offering. Mrs. Mellark may be a real sourpuss, but her lemonade is some of the best in Texas and she makes it by the gallons for tonight.

"Stranger," Gale greets me and I give him a warning glare.

We haven't really talked much about Peeta and me, but I take that as a good sign. Gale isn't one to sit back silently when he thinks things aren't right. It only helps confirm my theory that things between him and Peeta may eventually work out, but neither of them is admitting to that.

"Rory here?" I ask, leaning against the side of my truck.

"Is Prim?" Gale counters.

We both laugh, falling into a comfortable silence. The sun hasn't yet fallen too close to the horizon, but the hints of a sunset of beginning to appear on the west side of the ranch. Sunsets on Mellark Ranch were always my favorite. The wide-open space of the pastures allowed for the eye to see the colors bleeding out in their entirety. Most nights they were also the most peaceful time, but not tonight. Tonight sunset was abuzz with the anticipation of what was to follow.

When I pull my eyes away from the starting sunset I notice Gale is looking across the yard. My eyes follow his line, expecting to see a blur of blonde hair and gossip, but I'm surprised. The object of his attention is certainly not a blonde and she may be nosy, but gossip is not her forte. Johanna is too busy helping Jackie refill the lemonade pitchers to notice that she now had an audience.

"Apparently I've missed more than I thought," I comment, glancing back over at Gale.

"What?" Gale asks, feigning innocence.

"Do I need to go get Prim? I'm sure she'd love to sing 'Gale and Johanna sittin' in a tree' to you."

Gale rolls his eyes, taking another drink from his cup. What he's not saying is written all over his face and it's happy. And really, that's all I need to know. I've heard several rumors from the ranch hands that Gale had been taking Johanna out and around Dawson on some nights. Even Peeta had mentioned Johanna spending some nights with Gale, but Gale was never one to indulge me in the details anymore. Maybe it was a sign of him maturing, because high school was a completely different story. I usually had to bleach my brain daily to get rid of the vivid details he'd offer.

"Dancing should officially be starting soon," I comment, casually filling the silence.

"We better get in there."

It's official; he's really is falling for her, because Gale Hawthorne does not dance.

Music plays throughout the entire evening, but once mostly everyone finishes dinner, they need to fill the time before fireworks with something. Some may stay at the picnic tables and talk, others may roam the property; the young kids usually wear themselves out by running around, and most are in the barn dancing to whatever music comes over the speakers.

By the time Gale and I enter the barn, the makeshift dance floor is crowded and many others are lining the walls, sitting on hay bales or leaning against the old wood structure. I immediately spot Prim dancing with a rather nervous-looking Rory. He must have his brother's gift of two left feet. He looks so very focused on the task at hand while on the other hand Prim looks like she's just been given the Crown Jewels.

"So is this what you'd call a hoedown?" Johanna asks, walking up next to Gale and leaning forward to give us a both a knowing smirk.

"Yep, and we can only dance with our cousins." I deadpan. "Or a goat."

Gale laughs and Johanna sticks out her tongue in my direction. Before I know it, Johanna has said something to Gale and she's dragging him toward the dance floor. I half expect the look of sheer panic I receive from Gale when he realizes what she's doing, but I just wave in his direction.

Now that I'm left on my own I am painfully aware that I have yet to see the one person I've been looking for. I thought he'd be sitting with his brothers and family, but their picnic was filled with every blond head except for his. I am about to make my way back out of the barn when I feel a light hand at the small of my back. My body senses his presence completely before my eyes land on his.

"Come here often?" He smiles.

I shrug with a smirk. "Every Fourth of July."

"Predictable. I like that."

"I am hardly predictable, Mellark."

"Whatever you say, Everdeen. Whatever you say."

I revel in his closeness and I silently note the hint of his cologne that plays in the air around us.

"Dance with me."

"What?" I look at him as he's grabbing my arm and pulling me toward the dance floor. "I don't dance."

"Me either." Peeta smiles, turning back to me. "But I think I could with you."

All my other arguments are lost as he pulls me close. The music is slow and I'm actually grateful. I don't think I could possibly keep rhythm with an upbeat tempo. I feel his free hand rest against my hip while his other holds mine against his chest. I rest my hand on his shoulder as we begin to sway with the relaxed beat. I look around to see other dance partners mirroring us. Peeta and I just sort of melt into the crowd.

There's an older couple off on the edge. They are hardly moving but still hold each other lovingly. They're familiar with each other, and yet they look at each other as though it's their first dance. She looks at him like how I look at Peeta. The thought doesn't frighten me like that day not too long ago when I realized what it all meant. Instead it sends a chill down my spine and a shock of thrill beneath my skin.

I allow myself to come closer to Peeta, letting my arm drape around his neck. My fingers play with the short hairs at the nape of his neck and my eyes look up toward his. He's looking at me with a mesmerizing smile across his face. In the dulling light of twilight, his sharp features are more beautiful than usual. He lets his lips graze gently against my cheek as he wills me closer to him with the hand that's resting on my hip. I let my cheek rest against his after he's kissed me and I don't remember a time I've felt so peaceful.

His gesture was small, but my entire body feels it. The electricity that's flowing through me could light an entire town. I feel my soft body pressed against his hard one and I nearly gasp at the contrast. This isn't the first time we've been this close, but every time seems to awaken something new in me. A new need I swear I didn't have the time before.

My eyes close as I silently plead for the song to last forever. Even through the material of my shirt, Peeta's fingertips cause me to lose all coherent thought. His arm has come to wrap around my waist, his hand at the small of my back once again. And I want nothing more for him to reach beneath the thin cotton, but he doesn't. He wouldn't do something like that in the sight of others.

I wish the others weren't here.

That thought sends another tremor down my spine and I know Peeta feels it because his grip tightens slightly around me. I let my hand slip from his grasp to bring it around his neck and join my other one. He doesn't object and lets his hand come to rest in the middle of my back. I notice we're hardly moving with the beat anymore, but that's a mere side thought as my body continues to respond to his subtle movements.

I slowly pull far enough away to look up into the darkest blue eyes I've ever seen. His expression is as glazed over as I feel and I lean up to kiss him soundly on the lips. It's a break in the tension we've been building, but it's nowhere near all that's needed. I feel his hands grip the material of my t-shirt and my hands rest on his face almost possessively. The world goes into the background as I focus on my need for the man in front of me.

"Fireworks are starting!"

Our lips part at the sound of the little girl yelling at the top of her lungs, but it takes us much longer to come out of our haze. The music doesn't stop, but the sound is turned down as everyone starts to make his or her way outside. We are some of the last to head out, and Peeta's hand never leaves mine as we walk toward the crowd of people.

We stop at the edge of the group just as the first set lights up the sky. Peeta stands behind me, his arms wrapped around my waist and I lean into the warmth he offers. The smile on my face cannot be removed as I turn my attention from the sky to those standing around us. I see Prim with her friends, and Rory, ahead of us. They gasp with each new sparkling spectacle. Beetee and Wiress aren't too far from them; their constant bickering has ceased as they admire the show above. Mr. Mellark is standing with Mrs. Mellark and Reese, looking very pleased and happy. He deserves this. And then I spot Gale standing with Johanna. At first I believe they are just standing next to each other and then I look back and smile.

They're holding hands.

My attention is brought back to the sky until I feel Peeta's hand that lays flat against my stomach pull me closer to him. The gesture warms me to my toes and I can't help but bite my lip at my sudden thoughts. I wait for the rebuttal within myself, the one I expect to follow any sort of impulsive thought. It doesn't come. In fact, the only thing that comes is the sensation of Peeta's lips grazing the bare flesh of the spot where my shoulder meets my neck.

I slowly untangle myself from his arms but never letting my hand drop from his. He looks at me with an adorably confused expression and I can't help but laugh slightly. In the dark I doubt he sees my reaction. I start to pull him away from the crowd and he lets me.

"Where are we going?" he asks.

"To be unpredictable."