The Longest Ride(24)

“Show-off,” she teased. Bending down, she squeezed through the rails, and a moment later, they started toward the corrals.



As they crossed the pasture toward the fence on the far side, Luke maintained a comfortable distance. Sophia studied the undulations of the fence line as it rode the contours of the land, marveling at how different this place was from where she’d grown up. It occurred to her that she’d come to appreciate the quiet, almost austere beauty of this landscape. North Carolina was home to a thousand small towns, each with its own character and history, and she’d come to understand why many locals would never leave. In the distance, the pines and oaks, scrabbled together, formed an impenetrable scrim of blackness. Behind them, the music gradually faded, the distant sound of meadow crickets emerging in its wake. Despite the darkness, she felt Luke appraising her, though he was trying not to be obvious about it.



“There’s a shortcut after the next fence,” he said. “We can get to my truck from there.”



The comment caught her off guard. “Your truck?”



“Don’t worry,” he said, raising his hands. “We’re not leaving. We’re not even getting in. It’s just that I think you’ll be able to see better from the bed. It’s higher and more comfortable. I’ve got a couple of lawn chairs in the bed that I can set up.”



“You have lawn chairs in the bed of your truck?” She squinted in disbelief.



“I’ve got a lot of stuff in the bed of my truck.”



Of course he did. Didn’t everyone? Marcia would have a field day with this.



By then, they’d reached the next fence, and the glow from the arena lights was growing stronger. Again, he hopped over it effortlessly, but this time the slats were placed too narrowly for her to squeeze through. Instead, she climbed up, perching on top before swinging her legs over. She took his hands as she jumped down, liking their callused warmth.



They trekked to a nearby gate and veered toward the trucks. Luke angled toward a shiny black one with big tires and a rack of lights across the roof, the only one parked with the nose in the opposite direction. He opened the tailgate and hopped up into the back. Again, he held out his hands, and with a quick lift, she was standing next to him in the bed of the truck.



Luke turned around and began rummaging, moving things aside, his back to her. She crossed her arms, wondering what Marcia was going to think of all this. She could imagine her questions already: We’re talking about the cute one, right? He took you where? What were you thinking? What if he was crazy? Meanwhile, Luke continued to sort through various items. She heard a metallic clunk as he finally reappeared beside her with the chair, the kind that most people brought to the beach. After opening it, he set it down in the bed of the truck and motioned toward it. “Go ahead and sit. It’ll be ready in just a bit.”



She stood without moving – again picturing Marcia’s skeptical face – but then decided, Why not? The whole night had felt slightly surreal, so finding herself sitting in a lawn chair in the bed of a pickup owned by a bull rider was an almost natural extension. She reflected on the fact that aside from Brian, the last time she’d been alone with a guy was the summer before she first came to Wake, when Tony Russo had taken her to the prom. They’d known each other for years, but past graduation, it hadn’t amounted to much. He was cute and smart – he was heading to Princeton in the fall – but he was all hands by their third date, and —



Luke set the other chair beside her, interrupting her thoughts. Instead of sitting, however, he hopped down from the bed and went around to the driver’s-side door and leaned inside the cab. A moment later, the radio came on. Country-western.



Of course, she thought to herself, amused. What else would it be?



After rejoining her, he took a seat and stretched out his legs in front of him, crossing one leg over the other.



“Comfy?” he asked.



“Getting there.” She squirmed a bit, conscious of how close they were to each other.



“Do you want to trade chairs?”



“It’s not that. It’s… this,” she said with an all-encompassing wave. “Sitting in chairs in the back of your truck. It’s new to me.”



“You don’t do this in New Jersey?”



“We do stuff. Like see movies. Go out to eat. Hang out at a friend’s house. I take it you didn’t do any of those things growing up?”



“Of course I did. I still do.”



“What was the last movie you went to?”