"Two souls are sometimes created together and in love before they're even born." -F. Scott Fitzgerald
When eight year old Beau Ruby met twelve year old Colton Caine, she had no idea she was meeting the love of her life. She had no idea she'd grow...
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It was an Indian summer. I sat on the old dock, dangling my feet into the water. It was warm enough to wear shorts in late September, and that's just what I was doing.
The water was just starting to get chilly from the early morning temperatures these days. Labor Day had come and gone, and the leaves were starting to turn brilliant shares of orange and red.
It was my favorite time of year.
It used to be my favorite time of year.
I loved everything about fall. I loved all the nights I had spent in the high school football stadium, wearing orange and black, wrapped in a blanket, cheering for Colton through every football game. I loved pumpkin everything. I loved caramel apples. I loved the fair that came to town. I loved sharing cotton candy with him. I loved riding the Ferris wheel with Colton. I even loved when he rocked the carriage and made creaking sounds like the whole thing was going to fall to pieces. I loved the town harvest festival hayride with him. I loved holding his hand when the fall wind blew the leaves off the trees and they rattled along the ground in the field. I loved scary movies and candy on Halloween with Colt. He always brought pizza—half ham and pineapple and half pepperoni. I loved falling asleep on the couch with my head on his chest after a couple of movies.
I didn't know what I was going to do this year. The flower shop business was booming, and I knew it would keep me busy. We had started selling sunflowers, and people flocked to the shop to buy them and have them wrapped in burlap. We'd ordered ribbons in the all the fall colors, and we even had decorative leaves to add to bouquets.
Aunt Verne had started making apple pies and apple cobblers. She made sweet apple bread and she was just starting to plan when to make a big batch of apple cider.
I couldn't think about anything but him.
I hadn't seen him since the night in July when he'd told me he wished he hated me. He'd texted me a few times, just to ask if I was doing okay. He always kept it short and sweet, and I never pushed for more. I knew whatever sliver of a relationship we'd have would have to be on his terms and not mine.
I raised my right foot to the surface of the water and kicked a bit, listening to the sloshing sound it made and the ripples that rushed out from my toes. My fingers found the hem of the old, soft plaid flannel shirt I was wearing over my T-shirt. The breeze was picking up now that the sun was going down, but I was too lost in my thoughts to get up and walk away from my spot on the dock.
I was still kicking my feet when I heart steps on the dock behind me. I looked, and there he was. All faded jeans and long legs and tan skin. The butterflies were there again, threatening to fly up my throat and out of my mouth again. The world seemed to be charged with the quiet electricity between us.
There had once been a beehive in a tree on the far edge of the field. You could hear buzzing ten feet away.
There was a buzzing in my heart any time he was near me. Bees swarming around the atriums and ventricles. Threatening anyone who came near with the deafening roar.
