Miranda Kenneally - Racing Savannah

“Truth.”

“Have you ever held hands with a girl?”

“Yes,” Rory replies. “Truth or Dare, Jack?”

“Truth.”

“Have you ever farted in class and blamed it on somebody else?”

Rory and Jack start snickering like little boys and Vanessa and I roll our eyes at each other.

“You guys are ridiculous,” Vanessa says. “I want to play for real!”

Jack grins. “Fine. Savannah, truth or dare?”

The last thing I need is for Jack to ask me questions. “Dare.”

“I dare you to kiss Vanessa on the lips,” he says.

“No!” I exclaim as Vanessa shakes her head, looking disgusted.

“You are my hero.” Rory gives Jack a fist bump then fishes his notepaper and pen out and starts jotting down notes.

“Great, now we’re gonna end up in a pervy movie script, Vanessa,” I say.

“Fine.” Jack smirks. “If you won’t kiss Vanessa, then make out with Rory.”

Rory’s head pops up. He looks sick.

“C’mon,” I say. “That’d be weird.”

“Make out with Rory,” Jack says, “Or you’ve gotta take a truth.”

I cross my arms. He’s goading me into taking a truth.

“Fine,” Rory says. “Let’s get it over with.” He has a mischievous look on his face. He whispers in my ear, “I’ve been wanting to practice my stage kissing for drama class!”

“Oh hell.”

Rory twirls me around in a grand sweeping movement, but right as he’s about to kiss me, he slides his hand between our mouths and makes all these overly dramatic movements, whipping his head around like an angry horse. From an outsider’s perspective, it might look like kissing…or Rory devouring me whole.

“Ow owwww!” Vanessa squeals.

I start giggling against Rory’s hand, and when he pulls away from me, Jack and Vanessa are clapping.

“Bravo!” Vanessa says, laughing her ass off. “Rory.” Her eyes pierce into his. “Truth or dare.”

“Dare.”

“I dare you to dance with me.”

“Bo-ring,” Jack says.

Vanessa pulls Rory against her chest, and laughing, he leads her down closer to the water, where she wraps her arms around his neck and he kisses her deeply. That’s no stage kiss. I look away, smiling.

“I guess they’re out of the game indefinitely,” Jack says. Vanessa and Rory are full-fledged making out now.

“Game’s over, I guess,” I say, and walk over to the clearing, where I can better see the stars.

Jack appears beside me, sticks his hands in his pockets, and gazes at the moon. “Truth or dare?”

“Dare.”

“I dare you to admit if you wanted to kiss me last week.”

“That’s against the rules!”

My heart explodes, pounding like a train engine. Did he really just ask that? Is he under the influence of beef jerky or something?

It’s like, whenever we’re not at Cedar Hill, we’re normal. Normal people, normal friends, flirting like crazy. Playing waitress at his dinner party the other night seems a million miles away. He’s not my boss out here under the stars.

“So what’s your answer?” Jack asks.

I feel like I’m on a bridge, about to bungee jump, wondering if the cord is strong enough to hold me. Jack’s blue eyes find mine.

“Yes.”

Without a word he leads me down by the banks of the pond, where we sit. My body’s doing all the thinking as I curl my legs up beneath me, touching my knees against his warm thigh.

He touches my collarbone and gently sweeps his fingertips over my necklace. “What’s this?”

I suck in a deep breath and carefully remove the horseshoe necklace from his grasp. It’s a cheap thing, really. It came from Claire’s and probably didn’t cost more than a few dollars. But it’s worth everything. “It’s the last thing my mom ever gave me.”

Jack traces the necklace with a finger. Then he unclasps his watch, turns it over, and rubs his thumb across the engraved initials. JCG.

“It’s my grandfather’s,” Jack says.

“History is important to you,” I say quietly, touching the watch.

“My family, Cedar Hill—they’re my whole life.”

I lean closer, snuggling under his arm, and rest a hand on his strong chest. Our breathing races out of control. He brushes my hair behind my ears and kisses my neck until I’m shaking all over.

“Truth or dare?” I whisper.

“Dare.”

“I dare you to kiss m—”

His mouth captures mine and teases me into a long kiss. He weaves his hands in my hair and pulls me closer as I run one hand over his knee and cup his neck with the other. His pulse slams against my palm. His strong hands sweep over my shoulders and thighs, leaving me tingly and warm and feeling beautiful. I wish this had been my first kiss. It’s perfect.

At some point, Rory comes over and says that he and Vanessa are leaving.

“I’ll take her home,” Jack says, barely coming up for air.

Cindy warned me about Jack and his supposed one-night stands, but we never come close to that, even though I wouldn’t mind him going up my shirt or climbing on top of me because I want to feel. His fingers don’t wander under the hem of my T-shirt or below my waistband, and when he drives us home, he walks me to the door of Hillcrest, and after quickly gazing around to make sure we’re alone, he slides his hands around my waist and kisses me goodnight.

I like him a lot.

If I had a genie in a bottle and wished for the perfect night, it couldn’t be any better than this.

On Sunday morning after training, I walk over to Whitfield Farms so I can talk to Rory about what happened last night and get a guy’s advice on what happens next. Should I tell Jack I really like him? Or should I be realistic and never bring it up again? Was last night a one-time thing because of our beef jerky-infused haze?

I ring the doorbell to the farmhouse and an older version of Rory answers the door. Same mess of floppy dark brown hair. Same tall muscular frame.

“Are you Will?” I ask, and he nods. I wasn’t expecting to find him here since Rory said he’s going to law school in Atlanta.

“You must be Savannah, the girl who’s beating the hell out of the other exercise boys on the track, huh?”

“I guess.”

A small boy appears beside Will’s leg. “Hey, bud, can you run find Rory and tell him he’s got a visitor? He’s out in the barn.” The boy jets toward the back of the house and Will motions for me to follow him.

“I hear you’re getting a jockey’s license,” Will says. I grin and walk into the kitchen, where he’s making a sandwich. “Want one?”

“No, thanks.”

“Dessert?”

“Now you’re talking.”

He rummages in a cabinet and slides a package of Chips Ahoy across the island to me.

“So what are you doing here?” I ask. “Rory said you’re in law school in Atlanta?”

“My wedding’s next week. My fiancé’s at her final wedding dress fitting with my mom and her mom. And I was forced to act as chauffeur.”

I smile and clap my hands together. “What does her dress look like?”

“I haven’t seen it. That’s bad luck, Savannah.”

“Well, what do you hope it looks like?”

“You’re just as bad as the moms,” Will says, continuing to grin. He adds tomato and lettuce to his ham sandwich, and slices it down the middle, creating triangles.

They’re getting married next weekend at Whitfield Farms—the same day of the races at Kentucky Downs, and according to Rory, Mrs. Goodwin has been going nuts discussing wedding decor with Mrs. Whitfield. The bride’s family doesn’t have much money and the Whitfields have had several bad seasons so they haven’t taken many of Mrs. Goodwin’s suggestions, but I’m sure it will be a beautiful wedding.

I feel something pawing at my leg. I discover a red puppy at my feet. “Aww.” I lift the puppy into my arms, but he starts barking like crazy and going nuts, so Will reaches across the table to take him from me. The dog immediately calms down, licks Will’s face, and gives a big yawn.

“The dog hates me,” I say, laughing softly.

Will takes another bite of his sandwich and talks through a mouthful. “It happens.” He jiggles the puppy up and down on his knee.

“This reminds me of Star,” I say. “The horse doesn’t like boys. What’s wrong with him?”

Will laughs. “Nothing’s wrong with him. He can’t help it. It’s just like with people. Sometimes we like certain people more than others and it’s just the way it is.”

I like Jack. A lot. And I wish I could stop liking him but my heart doesn’t want that.

“So do you really think the Goodwins are gonna let you be their jockey at Kentucky Downs next week?” Will asks.

“I hope so.”

“Damn.” Will bites into his sandwich, smiling. “If that weren’t the day of my wedding, I’d love to see you race. I’ve never seen a girl jockey.”

I pause to eat a chocolate chip cookie. “What made you decide to go to law school?”

He feeds the puppy a small piece of ham. “Well, I mean, teachers had been telling me since sixth grade that I was going to college. Because of my grades, you know?”

No teachers have ever been like that with me. I guess my grades are okay, but nobody’s going out of their way to tell me what to do with my life. Wait. I take that back. Adam, the guy I fooled around with in West Virginia, worked in the kitchens at the Best Value Inn next door to the casino, and he often said I could use him as a reference if I wanted to apply for a clerk position at the front desk.

“…and I’m going to law school ’cause I want to fight the big corporations that are buying up farmland and putting us small farms out of business.”