Total pages in book: 21
Estimated words: 19329 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 97(@200wpm)___ 77(@250wpm)___ 64(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 19329 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 97(@200wpm)___ 77(@250wpm)___ 64(@300wpm)
Crockett laughs. “I think she’s got potential to be something more than a beautician or whatever it is you’re trying to be, Angus. She can be a star. Why don’t you sing that song for us, Dolly? The one that won you the pageant? I think he’d love to hear that.”
“Oh really?” Angus says, crossing his arms. “You’re a singer now?”
He shoots me those dark eyes, captivating me just like everything else about him. His broad shoulders, his dimpled jaw, his curly hair. I hate that I love everything about him.
Angus doesn’t believe that I can sing on top of just being a pretty face, huh? I take his comment personally, and shoot him a glare of my own. “Crazy...”
I throw myself into the song. Patsy Cline’s “Crazy.” A classic, one that I’ve loved ever since I was a child. My mother may have burned me with her Seattle nonsense, but I can’t deny she greatly influenced my musical tastes. The old country legends filled my ears as a child, and I happily memorized every lyric. Some of the more modern stuff has fallen short for me, but I can always turn to Norma, Loretta, Tammy, and my namesake. It’s not lost on me who I was named for. I do my damndest to make Ms. Parton proud, even if I know I can never hold a candle to her.
As I sing the song, he’s absolutely captivated by me. Every word that comes out of my mouth goes straight into his ears and burrows into his brain. He’s silent, shocked that I’m actually doing this, and learning why I put all those other girls in their place at the county fair today.
The song winds down, and I burst into laughter. I just poured my heart and soul into a performance for three people.
“The pipes on that girl, she could be a megastar if she wanted, don’t you see, boy?” Crockett slapped his son on the knee.
“She’s something, alright,” Angus says, his words loaded as they always are.
“As nice as it is to hear the encore, we got the cassette, Dolly,” Anise says. “You’re dressed. Are you ready to head out to Home? Red’s waiting for us.”
Oh. Right. I agreed to that. Changing for that trip is the whole reason we came back home after the fair. “Sure, sure, let’s go, Annie.”
3
ANGUS
“Wait, wait,” I sit up. “Red? Redford Rough? The douchebag from Home?”
Annie rolls her eyes. “Yes, that Red. You got a problem with that?”
“I just called him a douchebag, so yes, I have a problem with that.”
“He’s invited us to a bonfire over in Home. With the rest of the gang from high school. Do you want to come along? Or is your college-educated self too hoity-toity for a bonfire?”
I knew Redford Rough from back in my high school football days. He played for Home, I played for Burly, a local rivalry of cowboys versus townies that no one outside of our little corner of the world ever heard of or cared about. Our games got wild, and even after the result was called, fists would go flying. It didn’t help that Red, was, I repeat, a douchebag. I never liked him and I’m really doubting four years have magically turned him into the nicest guy on the planet.
It’s been a long time since I saw the boys though, and a lot has changed about me. I would get into a fight at the drop of a hat back then, but today I’m more reserved. I need a good reason to break my hand on someone’s face nowadays. It will be nice to see them again, even if only to see what’s changed with them.
My eyes drift to the skirt on my little sister and more alluringly to the Daisy Dukes on Dolly. They wouldn’t have passed any school regulations, that’s for damn sure. “You're going to let them go out like that, Dad? What they’re wearing ain’t exactly modest.”
He shrugs. “You know I’ve never been that kind of controlling, Angus. Besides, they’re eighteen. They can go out wearing whatever they want. I ain’t gonna stop them because it’s none of my business.”
I grumble. I worry about my sister, but my concerns are sitting with Dolly specifically. I’m very much eyeballing the shortness of her shorts and enjoying that they bring my eyes so very close to the promised land. She’s hotter than hell, and that song she belted out did quite the number on me. She has soul and spirit to go along with that body and I have to say I quite like what I’m seeing, and definitely like what I’ve been hearing. What I don’t like is the idea of her going to a bonfire without me. I know exactly what goes down at those sorts of things and it’s not just roasting marshmallows.