Under the Dusty Sky (Holloway Farms)

and he watches me from behind his dark chocolate-colored hair.
    I don’t breathe, pulling Rasp tighter to my chest, as if he'll shield me from this foreign feeling.
    “ Hey.” He presses his hair out of his eyes, and my ribs feel like they’re shrinking. This isn’t happening. He’s just the sexy older experienced guy that I plan on losing my virginity to and then never talking to again. I can’t be having my heart go all crazy like this.
    “ Hey,” I reply.
    “ So your dad thinks I’m crazy, but he said I could fix up your car and then teach you how to drive it.”
    “ What?” My crazy beating heart totally switches gears. I squeal. Before I can stop myself, I let go of Rasp and fling myself at Bentley. I have no time to enjoy the way his body feels pressed to the porch under me because Rasp starts barking and growling and jumping around our heads. He’s licking at our faces with his huge tongue.
    “ Rasp!” I screech and push at his huge furry body. I sit up and grab his collar just before he hops back on Bentley.
    “ I take it you’re up for it then?” Bentley’s on his elbows, smiling. I nod excitedly.
    “ But you have to help me fix it. I hear you’re not mechanically inclined, and your dad thinks you should know some things before he lets you drive off on your own.” Bentley’s wiping Rasp drool from his face, and I can hear Daddy laughing. His huge figure blocks the setting sun.
    “ Really?” I ask him, like Bentley was lying to me. Daddy’s always busy, and after I dropped the transmission or something like that, out of my car, my brothers all refuse to let me drive theirs.
    Dad nods, and I grin a huge wide grin.
    “ We’ll start tomorrow then.” Bentley’s unwavering neutral gaze goes from me to Dad, then he stands and leaves.
    “ Gracie Bug,” Daddy says in his serious tone, and I shift my attention back to him.
    “ Ben’s a nice guy and it’s great that he’s offered to help you get your license, but he is off limits.”
    My face drops, and Dad shifts uncomfortably.
    “ Daddy!” I shriek. He’s never approached the boy talk before.
    “ Off limits, Bug.” He frowns then turns to leave.
    I look over at Bentley, now talking with Hunter and Emma. Emma’s holding Hunter’s hand and running her finger up and down his forearm, making patterns and designs and tugging on his fingers. Her head is on his shoulder, and she’s off in her own world with unfocused eyes. She’s so odd, but I’m momentarily stabbed with jealousy that she can touch someone like that without caring who’s watching. I shake it off and pull my eyebrows together. One of them is going to get hurt. Love doesn’t last. So why am I jealous?
    No, it's best to keep it fun. To keep all that feeling stuff out. Then it doesn’t hurt when they lose their flavor.
    I catch Bentley smiling again. The illegal smile that steals my breath.
    I shake it off and focus on my plan. My plan that just got more interesting.
    Fixing my car. Bentley teaching me to drive stick.
    There are so many ways I could twist that.

CHAPTER 7
    Graceland
    I bribed my brother with cleaning chickens if he came swimming the other day, and he’s cashing in the favor already. I’m mad about it until I find out Hunter’s taking Bentley around the farm today and giving him the boss routine. Hunter always did more work than me or the twins, and he always helped and inspected the work we did to make sure it was good.
    Hunter’s a perfectionist to the most annoying degree. I’m glaring at him while sweat pours off my face, and Bentley looks back and forth between us.
    “ Hunt, it’s a chicken coop.” I throw out my arms.
    “ What does that have to do with anything?” he asks.
    I can only grunt.
    Did I mention he’s stubborn? But so am I.
    “ It means it’s clean enough.”
    Hunter raises an eyebrow, and I grip the shovel tighter in my crap-covered leather gloves. Bentley still glances from Hunter to me.
    “ It’s not, Gracie, and you know it. I know you want to get ready for the Summer Kick-Off tonight.”
    My glare deepens, and I march up to my brother and slam the shovel handle against his chest. He lets out a puff of air and grabs the shovel before it falls.
    “ You’re right, Hunter. I do need to get ready for the dance. Thanks for reminding me. An’ if yer so gawd damn good at shovelin’ crap then by all means git at ‘er.”
    I squeeze my eyes shut and shake my head. I push through the two boys and leave the