Saving Thomas Read online

  “Why not tonight?” He tried kissing me, but I turned my head. “You said you wanted me. You said you loved me. What are you waiting for?” I sounded breathless and needy, but I didn’t care. He was the first boy I’d ever wanted like this. He was the only one I’d ever wanted period.

  “For you to say yes.”

  “Yes!” I said instantly. He laughed, stilling my hands from his belt buckle and holding them above my head.

  “Don’t you want to know what you’re saying yes to?”

  Using my legs to bring him closer, I answered, “Not at the moment.”

  “Fine,” he said, releasing his hold and sitting back on his knees. “Do you want to go tell your folks or do you think I should ask your daddy first,” he paused, looking toward the window in deep thought. “I better ask; he’ll be expecting it.”

  My mouth dropped. Was he out of his ever-loving mind? We couldn’t get married. I was only eighteen, starting college in the fall and Daddy would . . . Well, Daddy would want nothing more than for his little girl to move right across the street.

  Before I could string enough letters together to create a word, Thomas lost it. “You should see your face?” he laughed heartily.

  I punched him in the gut and tried without success to push him away as he started playfully tickling my sides. “You’re such a jerk,” I managed, unable to stop myself from laughing too. After finally convincing him to stop, I lay back breathless, a million different emotions coursing through my mind, as he watched me intently.

  “Would it really be so bad?” he asked, a seriousness to his emerald eyes that didn’t match the playfulness in his voice as he stroked my hair from my forehead. “You know, because I could get used to you doing my laundry.”

  “Laundry. That’s a big commitment,” I contemplated teasingly. “And at our age, what would people say?”

  Leaning down and planting a soft kiss to my lips that I wanted to last much longer, he shuffled in behind me and reached for the remote. “You’re right. We better just stick to pretending to watch movies and making out on the couch.”

  “Hey now, I watched the stupid movie.” He smirked, knowing me so well it was truly irritating. “Fine. I may have missed a few scenes, but that’s not the point anyway.”

  Turning the TV off, I heard the remote hit the dark floor with a thud. “So, what is the point?” I could barely make out his face in the sudden darkness, but I could feel his sweet, warm breath touch my cheek just before I felt the softness of his lips.

  What was the point? Oh yeah, “I never said we had to stay on the couch.”

  He chuckled against my lips, “You kind of did?”

  Giving me a slow, deep kiss, the kind great books are written about, he suddenly pulled away and reached for his shoes. “I better get you home before it gets much later,” he said already on his feet and reaching for my hand.

  Could I even stand up after that kiss? Thinking of a million different ways I could get him to change his mind, I said the only thing a rational woman could say in my position. “Let’s get married, Thomas.”

  He looked dazed for half a second before a half smile tugged at his lips. “Breelynn, I know you’ve got a thing for me, but this is practically our first date in nearly five years. I think you’re moving a bit fast.” He shielded his man parts just before I made connection. Laughing, he pulled me up from the couch and kissed my forehead before starting for the door.

  Looking longingly at his beautiful face cast in the shadows of the night as he opened the door, I stopped. “I’m serious, Thomas. We could do this.” He chuckled, giving me a sideways glance as he pulled us through the opened screen door. “I’ve thought about it.”

  “I’m sure you have,” he said, his voice in no way hiding the inuendo.

  “Um, no,” I countered, clearing my suddenly parched throat, because forgive me, but I’d thought about that just as much. “No, I mean marrying you. Staying on the farm.”

  “You’re a bit hormonal right now, Bree,” he laughed as we neared my yard.

  “Granted,” I chuckled, too, stepping into the light triggered by the motion detector on the porch. “But, I love you.”

  “I love you, too,” he said, pulling me to his chest. “Which is why you have to go inside right now.”

  “When will I see you again?” I asked as if he were going off to war and not stepping back across the street.

  Hearing the thinly veiled desperation in my voice, he bit his lip, seeming to reconsider, before shaking it off. “Tomorrow, our spot, down by the fields.” With his hands in his pockets, he took a step backwards toward the road. “I hear it’s good at keeping crows away,” he winked. “Your daddy is sure to appreciate that.”

  Thomas was right about one thing; it did keep the crows away. Not nary a one bothered our fields for the rest of that summer, but he was wrong about Daddy, hence the scarecrow that marked our meeting place every year after.

  Epilogue

  (One year later)

  “There’s plenty of hot water if you want to take a shower before dinner,” I called over my shoulder as I finished slicing the cucumber I’d picked from the garden this morning.

  Sneaking up behind me and slipping his massive, rough hands around my waist, I felt the warmth of Thomas's lips run the length of my neck. “Is that your polite way of telling me I stink?”

  Gingerly turning around in his arms, I planted a gentle kiss on his lips, reveling in the familiar, sweet taste that transcended time with its butterfly inducing effects. “When have you ever known me to be polite?”

  Reaching behind me and turning off the stove, he grabbed my thighs and hoisted my legs around his waist. “Couch or bed?” I felt his lips curve against my skin as we stepped into the last rays of sunshine streaking through the living room curtains. For late September, the summer heat was still hanging in there. It had been a record high of 102 degrees today. Yet another thing that was different about this fall. The first being, I wouldn’t be hitting the books alone this year. Thomas had enrolled in an Agricultural Business Program, so he would be able to keep me company on the long winter nights of studying ahead. Lord help us.

  The second change we'd been blessed with was Daddy deeding the house and back ten acres to us as a wedding gift. Yes, I said wedding, which brings me to the third and most important difference about this fall, the gold ring around my finger. After Daddy and Mama had given their blessing, we'd wasted no time tying the knot. It was as simple as simple can be, just close family and friends gathered beneath a star filled sky in the middle of the same field where we'd first met. The neighborhood kids had worked for hours filling mason jars with lightening bugs to line an aisle for me to walk down. Mama and Katy had helped me find a sheer, lace covered, white dress that was just long enough to hide my bare feet. Thomas bought a new pair of jeans and a hunter-green, button up shirt that made his eyes look incredible for the occasion. We exchanged vows beneath a wooden arch Daddy had constructed, and Mama had decorated with sunflowers, before digging into the catered BBQ Thomas's dad had arranged to be here, in his absence. It was a breathtakingly perfect and long-awaited night that brought about the final and hands down most delectable difference in my life. You see, Thomas is a very good promise keeper. He’d been adamant that the next time he made love, or had “meaningless sex,” as I still teasingly referred to it, would be to his wife. So, as soon as the final piece of blackberry cobbler had been dished out, we'd hastily made our escape.

  “Bree,” Thomas breathed, playfully slapping my bottom and giving me the look that Southern boys have passed down from generation to generation. “Couch or bed?”

  “Bed,” I whispered against his lips as he towed us through the bedroom door, fulfilling his promise, again.

  Acknowledgements

  Books are mental vacations and, like most vacations, require a bit of a road trip or journey. This book was no different, and I am forever grateful for those who traveled the road with me.

  First and for
emost, I want to thank our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ for giving me the imagination to not only come up with the characters and alternate realities in my head but for the ability to get them down on paper. Without Him nothing is possible.

  My sister, best friend and impromptu editor, MM, for pushing through the roughest of rough drafts and never complaining. For loving my characters as much as I do and for always answering the phone no matter how many times I call for reassurance. Thanks for being my shadow self.

  My husband and boys for sharing me with the voices in my head and for the endless love and support.

  All of the readers and writers I've met through Goodreads and Writers of Instagram for sharing knowledge and providing advice that has helped me to grow as a writer.

  My uncle R for his selfless promotion to all who will listen and to all of my family for supporting my dream. I love you all.

  About the Author

  A.L. Moore is also the author of The General Store and is a graduate of the University of South Carolina. She discovered a love for writing at a young age— filling notebooks with poetry and short stories. She resides in South Carolina with her husband and two children.

  Connect with the author: www.instagram.com/authoralmoore

  Stay in touch with updates and new releases by sending an email to [email protected] and request to join the mailing list.

  Thank you for reading Saving Thomas. If you enjoyed Breelynn’s and Thomas’s story, be sure to check out Cecilia’s and Lakin’s story in The Rainmaker, coming in the spring of 2021. Theirs is a love that is out of this world.