Chapter Nine
Van hadn’t blinked when she walked out of her mom’s bungalow that morning, and spotted him standing there by the old oak tree. Instead, she’d done her usual stretches, her limbs long and lithe as she curled over them, and started her run along the lane toward the town square. He’d kept up easily, neither of them saying a word as the buildings gave way to fields and farms.
He’d spent at least half of their run looking at her from the corner of his eye, hoping Van wouldn’t notice. Out here, on the dusty road, with the sun shining down on her, she looked completely like the girl he used to know. Strong and determined, yet with a vulnerability only he could see. Of all the people in Hartson’s Creek, he was pretty sure only very few knew who she really was.
It had always felt like the most special of gifts, being Van Butler’s best friend. She’d been the sun his world had orbited. Without her, the world had felt colder. Lifeless. One of the reasons he threw himself into work the same way Gray threw himself into music. It was a way of pretending the pain wasn’t there.
Beneath her black shorts, her legs were firm and lean, the line of muscles beneath her tan skin illuminated by the sun. She was wearing that sports bra again, and he couldn’t help but glance at her stomach, his eyes roaming the lines of her abs until they reached the grey fabric covering her breasts.
Shaking his head at himself, he dragged his gaze away. “You wanna take a break here?” he asked, as they reached the old entrance of the drive-in.
“If you’re tired, I can wait with you.” She shrugged. Then she saw the bright white sign somebody had hammered into the field. “Sold?” she said, her brows pulled together. “I didn’t even know it was for sale.” She leaned on the old fence and looked at him. “Do you think a developer bought it? Ready to plow over all our childhood memories?”
His mouth felt dry. “No. I don’t think they did.”
Her eyes were pulled back to the sign again. “Fairfax Realty,” she murmured. “They’re everywhere, aren’t they?”
“I bought it,” he told her, waiting for her response.
Her head whipped around. “What? Why?”
“To stop a developer from plowing over all our childhood memories,” he said dryly.
She laughed. “Jesus, Tanner. How rich are you?”
“Enough that buying this didn’t make a dent in my account.”
The smile slid off her face when she realized he was serious. “I don’t get it. I know software pays well, but…”
“I sold my company.”
Her eyes widened. “You did? Why?”
“Because it would have been crazy to do anything else. And my co-owners wanted to take the money.”
“Wow. I didn’t know.” She shot him a smile. “Congratulations. And now you’re set for life.” She shook her head, the ghost of a smile playing on her lips. “I knew I should have paid more attention in school.”
“I did tell you that,” he pointed out.
She laughed, and he loved the way it transformed her face. God, she was beautiful. “We both know you’re the only reason I graduated at all,” she said, her eyes warm as she looked at him. “All those times you made me study when all I wanted to do was have fun. Those nights when you’d explain the same damn equation over and again until it finally clicked.”
“I had an ulterior motive.”
She lifted an eyebrow. “And what was that?”
“I didn’t want to go to college without you.”
The smile slid from her lips. Yeah, well look how that turned out. She looked away, over her shoulder, at the field as it stretched toward the screen. The grass was almost knee high. Beneath it some of the little wooden markers remained, that guided the cars to the right spot for them to park and watch the show.
“So what are you going to do with this place?” she asked.
“Fairfax thinks I’m planning on building a house here.”
She eyed him carefully. “But you’re not?”
He slowly shook his head. Then he put his hand on the top of the peeling fence and vaulted over it, landing on the field with a soft thud. “Come on,” he said, holding his hand out to her.
A wicked grin formed on her lips. “Are you getting brave, trespassing in your old age, Hartson?”
“It ain’t trespassing if I own it, Butler,” he said. “Now are you coming or what?”
She rolled her eyes and started to climb the fence, clearly preferring that to vaulting over. Impatiently, he grabbed her waist when she reached the top, then lifted her over until she was in front of him.
Damn, she was light. And warm. And now his hands wanted to feel more of her. The long grass was swaying like corn in the field, the fresh smell wafting up as they made their way through it.
“You’re gonna need a good lawn mower,” Van told him. He reached for her hand, and she slid it into his without protest, her head moving from left to right as she took it all in. The ticket booth, whose roof had fallen in, the white wooden screen which was covered in graffiti thanks to the youth of Hartson’s Creek. Even the swing set remained, though it was so rusty it looked like it could crumble at any moment.
“I can’t believe you bought this,” she said. “What a dump.”
This time he laughed, low and deep. “You have no vision,” he told her.
She lifted her chin up and looked at him with narrow eyes. “Good thing you’re rich,” she said softly. “Otherwise I’d feel sorry for you wasting your money. What are you going to do with it?”
“I’m going to restore it.”
She blinked. “As in make it a drive-in again?”
“Yep.”
“Jesus, Tanner, you’re crazy. Who the hell wants to go to a drive-in anymore?”
He shrugged. “If we build it, they will come.”
She eyed him carefully. “Did you just misquote Field of Dreams to me?”
“I might have.”
“And who’s this we you speak of?”
“You and me.”
The amusement drained from her face. “There is no you and me,” she said quietly. “There hasn’t been for a long time.”
And he wanted to change that. So badly. The only thing worse than losing his best friend would be to lose her all over again. “I need you, Butler. I can’t do this on my own. You were always the ringleader, the one with the ideas. I was your sidekick.” He gave her a lopsided smile. “The muscle.”
She shook her head. “You don’t need me. You could do this in your sleep. You have enough money to employ somebody to restore it. People who know what they’re doing.”
“I don’t want someone who knows what they’re doing. I want you.”
The words sent a shot of pleasure through her. Ugh, he didn’t mean it like that. She let out a laugh, trying to recover her equilibrium. “Don’t sweet talk me.”
“Wasn’t going to.”
“You’re crazy, Tanner Hartson. Completely and utterly twisted. Have you thought of getting some therapy?”
He leaned forward, tucking a lock of hair behind her ears. “Say yes,” he said softly. “Work with me. Let’s make this place into something amazing.”