Call Me Michigan Page 2

  If Mason had said different words that night, would her life have gone down a different path?

  “I shared a memorable first kiss after I finished high school,” she hinted drily.

  Mason laughed, sending uncalled shivers down her spine. God, she barely recognized herself as the desperate need to crawl into his lap and let him hold her came over her like the storm she hadn’t seen roll in earlier. She had lost weight, enough to scare her, too, but she hoped that some of her former curves would return eventually once she had settled down and found a new routine. She missed feeling like herself. Stress had taken its toll on her in the last months.

  “You don’t sound impressed.” He grinned while she watched how he slowed down the truck more and more. It was almost impossible to see the asphalt through the heavy curtain of rain while thunder shook the car. While she couldn’t even begin to explain how glad she was that Mason had picked her up, she still didn’t want to spend any longer than necessary with him in here.

  “He was drunk as a sailor, and it came out of nowhere. For more than a year, I had fantasized about being kissed by him, and then he tasted like the bottom of a whiskey bottle.” She shook her head while secretly checking his face with her sunglass-covered eyes, but he seemed unaware of the memory. It cut deep, realizing that she was the only one haunted by that kiss. Then again, she had already suspected as much. The confirmation didn’t sting any less, though. “Lucky bastard doesn’t even remember it anymore,” she finally added, and his expression turned serious.

  “Lucky, indeed. He gets a second chance if that’s what he wants,” he concluded, and for a few seconds, she wondered if maybe she had been wrong about his lack of memory, but then he sighed. “First kisses are somethin’ else. I’m still waiting for my last first kiss. The kind where you know there’s no walkin’ away from it, ever,” he confessed, and it reminded her that a true cowboy was not only devoted but also honest. She missed the Stetson on his dark hair, yet she gave herself a chance to admire the scruff on his cheeks, his strong jaw, straight nose, and full lips. She found herself reaching out, only to change direction and fiddle with the radio instead.

  “I think this storm makes listening to music impossible,” Taylor pointed out, thinking of one too many storms she had spent inside of Mason’s truck at one party or another. The groups would vanish inside vehicles at the first sign of thunder to wait out the rain. Somehow, she had always ended up in Mason’s truck – without anyone else around.

  “Yeah, that just happens,” he agreed, reaching out for the radio as well.

  “I guess you just have to sing by yourself, S … singer.” She amended the end of her sentence quickly as she noticed her almost slip.

  He stiffened nonetheless, and Taylor cursed herself. She had said that sentence so often, it more was an inside joke now instead of a statement. She felt tears coming to her eyes at all the happy memories Mason’s presence awoke in her. He had an amazing singing voice, and each time she’d heard it, she had been able to see him singing a child to sleep, softly brushing a coarse kiss across baby soft skin afterward. If he ever had a baby girl, she’d probably adore him. She could easily see it: All his children would focus on their dad.

  The image of them sharing a house and having a family seemed so real in her mind; she could almost touch it.

  “What did you say?” he questioned while bringing the car to a stop at the side of the road, his eyes focused out the windshield, as if in his head he was trying to work something out.

  “I … suggested you sing for us,” Taylor stuttered, wondering if he would.

  “Ashley hated when I sang,” he started, turning toward her in his seat. Taylor swallowed a few times as her throat seemed to clog, then she looked away from him, no longer able to hold his gaze. His blue eyes were too watchful, and even though she still wore these stupid sunglasses, he seemed to look right through her pretenses. “She always complained that it reminded her too much of things long buried,” he went on, and she noticed from the corner of her eye how he reached out and started to pull the hair pins from her chignon, dropping them onto the dash one by one. “Obviously, one of her friends—her best one, in fact—loved to be serenaded by me, and while Ash loved her like a sister, she didn’t want the memory of another woman standin’ between us.”

  Taylor squeezed her eyes shut as his movements, precise and surprisingly well practiced, made her whole body thrum with need. Holding her breath, she couldn’t deny that she wished that just once, accidentally, he’d brush her cheek.

  Twelve years were between them, yet with every pin he pulled out, she had the feeling he made them vanish one by one. If only that were possible, Taylor thought as a tear left a wet trail down her cheek.

  Mason had a lump in his throat. He had known something was off with this girl, but then she had been ready to call him Stiles as if it was the most natural thing in the world, and his body had gone into overdrive. He could hear the blood rushing in his ears, her silent acceptance of him freeing her hair saying more than a thousand words could. Eventually, long blonde waves tumbled down her back, and Mason reached out to pull them apart while his mind was doing a million miles a minute.

  Touching her cheek, he took a fortifying breath before pulling those ugly glasses off. His breath caught in his throat as his eyes fell on her features.

  She was the same kind of beautiful yet totally different. Her cheeks, hollow as he noticed before, made her cheekbones so much more prominent. He recalled the fullness of her lips, but they lacked the rosy color he remembered. Dark lashes framed familiar hazel eyes, but the typical happy glint was missing. His heart, galloping in his chest, left no doubt: The girl in front of him was Taylor.

  “Mason.” His name was a broken whisper on her lips as her voice trembled. He couldn’t form one coherent thought, but she suddenly wrapped her arms around him, her face hidden in the crook of his neck, where only she seemed to fit perfectly. He moved until she sat on his lap, and while he wanted to squeeze her tight, her body felt breakable under his hands. He could feel her ribs underneath his palms, so he cupped the back of her neck with one hand and wrapped the other around her hips, careful not to hurt her.

  “What the hell happened to you, Taylor?” he wondered quietly, feeling how she shook her head against his shoulder. He squeezed his eyes shut, soaking up her closeness while realizing that besides those long blonde waves, nothing was left of the girl he once knew.

  “I’m terrified, Stiles. I returned, knowing I need to raise an eight-year-old boy and run a farm. I don’t … I couldn’t eat much. Each and every time I took a bite, it felt as if razor blades were going down my throat. I’ve spent two weeks acquiring all the documents I needed after my father abandoned Timmy and Tammy. This town blames me for everything.” She sobbed, and he swallowed all he wanted to say. He knew how small towns worked, but he remembered as well how much they had loved Taylor Collins before she had left.

  Suddenly, as if stung by a bee, Taylor was back on the other side of the seat, her breath sounding labored as she looked at him, making herself small against the door. She looked even more broken than she had before, if that was possible.

  He wanted to call her Collins again the way he used to, but the name didn’t come past his lips. No matter how much he wanted to give her a piece of normalcy again, it felt too wrong. She wasn’t his Taylor any longer.

  “Call me Michigan for now,” she implored as if she felt his apprehension.

  “As of now, it fits you way better,” he admitted, finally finding his voice. She had been gone for twelve years, and as he watched her now, he couldn’t help but wonder if maybe, for more than a decade, his heart had held onto a girl who would never return.

  ***

  Taylor wanted to break down and cry until no more tears came, but she told herself to wait until Mason could no longer bear witness to her pain. People thought that during high school, you formed bonds that would last a lifetime and wouldn’t break from years apart. Taylo
r was no exception to that belief, but this encounter with Mason made it clear that it was nothing more than a misconception.

  His eyes were wide, and he kept watching her with an expression that made her think she had just told him there was no Santa. She wished now she had kept her emotions in check instead of falling around his neck, but she couldn’t take it back. His touch had been barely there; so light, it had brought the pictures of him and Ashley back to the forefront of her mind. She recalled too clearly how obvious it had been that he couldn’t let go of them.

  Ashley, her former best friend, had dated Mason, and he still wasn’t over it.

  “I’m sorry, Mase.”

  “What for?” he inquired, brow furrowed, and she shrugged. She honestly had no idea, but for whatever reason, she felt the need to continually apologize.

  “I have no idea. So the rain let up and I need to … I guess I should…” Nothing was left to say, and it scared her. She couldn’t think of one sentence to utter, one question to ask, even though she hadn’t seen him in forever.

  Mason turned to her, studying her for a long moment before patting the spot next to him. She scooted closer, and he kissed her forehead, his lips lingering. “People need to get used to the new you, Michigan. You haven’t been around in a very long time. Give them a chance. This is still a small town, and you know best how those are. Maybe people will surprise you.” He tried to soothe her, but she stayed silent as he turned the key and made the engine come to life again before easing it back onto the road. “Things changed around here, too, but you know that kindness goes a long way. You never had a problem with bein’ kind, Michigan, so there’s hope on the horizon.” He gave her a smile and tugged her into his side, letting her soak up his warmth.

  Somehow, though, no matter what, Taylor couldn’t shake the feeling that she had just been friend-zoned.

  ***

  The last thirty minutes of the drive were quiet yet eventful. Mason was strangely aware of every breath Taylor drew, of how a sob caught in her throat every now and then even though she tried to hide it, and the way she fit in his arms so perfectly while she drew lazy patterns with her fingertips across his thigh, most likely worrying about her home.

  He had so much he wanted to say to her, like how he had lost his heart to her when she’d been merely a sophomore, but he figured she had more than enough on her plate already, and all she really needed was a friend. He was ready to be just that for her until they figured out who she was exactly. Plus, he had his hands full with his own life, especially because Taylor didn’t realize yet that Ashley might not be very fond of her any longer.

  He parked the truck at the end of the driveway the way she’d asked. She shivered next to him, and he reached to his backseat for his college football jacket. It was his everything, the one piece of clothing he never let go of, but since football jackets had somewhat been their thing in high school, he hoped that this would offer her some sense of comfort and home.

  She slipped her skinny arms through the sleeves and then freed her hair from the collar while a small smile graced her lips. She grabbed her bag, making him wonder if it was a keepsake from one of her ex-boyfriends. She got out of the truck after wordlessly squeezing his arm. She had crossed only a few yards before her steps faltered.

  He watched as Taylor stared at the house that used to be her home, and Mason was glad that her father had at least kept it well maintained. She froze where she was, and Mason slipped out, walking around the truck.

  “Michigan?”

  She spun back around as if he had promised to take her away again. “My cell number hasn’t changed. If you need me, call me,” he ordered and then watched as she took a few fortifying breaths before hurrying back to him. He caught her in his arms, watching her bag in the mud where she had just dropped it. As much as it killed him, he was glad that he couldn’t feel her bones as much through the leather of his jacket and held her tighter now than he had dared to before.

  “Stop bein’ a wimp,” he reprimanded. “Put on ya big girl panties and rock that family thing.”

  She laughed, but her voice hitched at the end. “I just need to step inside. I’ll be fine,” she promised, and he had no doubt about it. Taylor had always been strong. She pulled back, nodding before walking up to her bag, grabbing it, and marching to the house. Now, that was more the Taylor he recognized. The moment she vanished inside, he got back into his truck and finally began his way home again.

  He wished he could go to Brad’s house and have a few beers to sort his thoughts, but obligations were calling. He drove straight home, finding his mother on the front porch. Dusk had settled over the farmhouse, and she had lit only a few of the decorative lanterns.

  “I was gettin’ worried, son,” she stated, crossing her arms in front of her body. Stella Stiles still was a beautiful lady and his savior most days. Her dark hair hung in a braid down her back, her figure womanly and showing traces of age. On her face, it was obvious that she’d had a good life so far; laughter lines around her eyes and her lips made her seem younger. Her blue eyes were hooded, a silent accusation in them.

  “I got in a storm and then picked up a girl on the side of the road. Mom, Taylor Collins is back.” His voice was barely above a whisper, the shock at seeing her finally hitting him. His mother knew all about his regrets of never having told her how he really felt. To his surprise, Stella nodded, her face suddenly laced with sadness.

  “I met Ashley in town, and she mentioned that it was likely to be today. I had no idea how to tell you, so I didn’t. I hoped you’d have some time before meeting her and … I know it was the chicken way out, but I couldn’t let myself see the hope on your face before realization would crash in, ruining it all,” she admitted. “How do you feel?”

  “She’s not the same girl she was when she left.”

  His mother nodded again. “She gave up everythin’ in Michigan, including her event management business. I know you avoided hearing about her life away from you, but she did very well there. The girl who left turned into the woman who returned. Plus, you aren’t the boy you used to be,” she reminded him, and he swallowed. It was crazy how even though he and Taylor were back in the same town, they suddenly didn’t seem to be on the same planet any longer.

  Taylor had never been afraid to walk into business meetings, no matter how many sharks sat at the other end of the table watching her as if she was their next meal, yet she was terrified of crossing the doorstep to the house that used to be her childhood home. It fazed her that Mason just assumed she’d still remember his number and therefore hadn’t bothered to tell her again, but even worse was that she indeed recalled every single digit with ease.

  The rain was gone, and while the encounter with Mason had left her reeling, she needed to focus. Stepping on the porch, she put her sea sack down and kicked off her ballerinas, placing them next to Tammy’s cowboy boots and Tim’s sneakers. She missed her own boots something fierce and decided that one day soon, once everything settled down, she’d get herself a new pair.

  She pushed open the screen door, being surprised at how Mason’s jacket almost felt like armor, making her more brave and giving her a sense of security she clearly needed.

  “Tammy! Taylor’s here!” Tim bounded down the stairs squealing just as she stepped inside. He threw himself at her, and she caught him even though he was getting heavy fast. She cuddled him close; Skype talks couldn’t replace the feeling of holding her baby brother.

  “So happy you’re home, Tay,” he burst out, squeezing her tightly while her sister followed at a much slower pace. Timothy struggled, and Taylor placed him back on his feet. She kept her eyes on her sister, and her heart broke as she realized how grown up the twenty-one-year-old woman appeared. In fact, it was as if Tamara carried the weight of the world on her shoulders, and Taylor hated it. “Are you gonna have pizza with us, Tay? Tammy promised we’d celebrate with pizza since”—he made a face, wrinkling his nose—“Tammy’s cooking sucks.”

&nbs
p; Taylor kept her focus on her sister while ruffling Tim’s hair. “Why don’t you go ahead and figure out what you want?” she suggested, and he skipped away.

  Tamara’s eyes glistened with tears. “I’m so sorry, Lori.” She was the only one who got away with calling her that. “I prayed every day that someone would stay around long enough until Tim’s going off to college, but I guess Dad got tired of everythin’! I’m so sorry!” Tamara went on, and Taylor pulled her into her arms, kissing her hair.

  “Stop worrying. I’m happy to be here. And I hear you applied for college! Why didn’t you tell me? I’m so proud of you, Tammy! Seriously!” Against her shoulder, her sister shook her head, bunching Mason’s jacked in her fists.

  “I’m not goin’. I’ll get a job and help you with the farm. I …”

  “Tamara, this is not a discussion. You were accepted, and you’re going. I should’ve stepped up much earlier, and I’m sorry you had to carry that burden, but now, I am here, and I’m not ever going away again.”

  Tammy pulled back, scrutinizing her. “Guess what, it’s not your job, either, Lori. Our parents should be here; you and Andrew should be planning a family instead of you managing one,” she admonished, and Taylor closed her eyes. She and Andrew should’ve planned many things, but somehow, they never went further than the dating part. They told everyone they were a couple and maybe would think more about the future once everything settled down. The moment she knew she’d have to return, Andrew had been the first thing to go. Walking away from him had been too easy, and it probably should’ve made her pause, but he was the least of her worries.

  “Hey.” She smiled, brushing some tears away from Tammy’s face. “I’m still gonna manage something, only now it will be a farm and family instead of parties. Someone needs to fill that position when you leave for school.”