My Favorite Love (The Lakeland Boys Book 1) Read online

  I looked at her and raised an eyebrow. “What can you tell me about Tank?” I asked.

  She glanced towards him, as if to make sure he couldn’t hear her. “Tank’s special. He’s the nice one of the group. Um … but I wouldn’t think about getting too interested in him. You’re not his type.”

  “Oh really,” I answered surprised to feel a little insulted. Marla barely knew me. How could she know whether I was his type or not?

  I looked at her again. For the first time saw a little fear behind her eyes. Oh wow, she wants him for herself, I realized, and she’s afraid of my coming in and encroaching on her territory. Unbelievable, I’d never thought of myself as the encroaching kind, but it was sort of nice to be thought of that way.

  “Yeah, well, he’s not my type either,” I said and watched her shoulders slump in relief as a smile broke out on her face.

  “Hey it’s dinner time,” she yelled to the boys across the street.

  None of them moved.

  “Mom says she’s going to feed it to the dogs if you guys don’t hurry up.” Again, no movement. It was as if they were purposely ignoring an annoying gnat.

  “It’s stroganoff,” she said, as if that would be enough.

  Immediately, Tank started pushing the boys away from the car so he could lower the hood.

  “Hey watch it,” Nick said, as he barely got back in time.

  “You heard her, it’s stroganoff,” Tank said, as if that explained the meaning of life.

  All four boys turned to look at Marla, and my stomach fell to my knees. You know that feeling you get when your plane hits an air pocket? What you thought was true and real is exposed as fiction? What I thought about the world had suddenly shifted.

  Jason Turner was put on this world to make a girl’s insides turn to mush. Piercing blue eyes. Fine blond hair. Chiseled cheekbones, sharp enough to cut paper and a smile that could light up the world.

  Our eyes locked almost immediately, and the world sloughed away, as if it had never existed. Both of us stood there, frozen in time. I have no idea how long it would have lasted, but Tank punched his friend in the shoulder and told him to get a move on.

  My face immediately flushed fire engine red. Not a pretty look with my auburn hair. I’d been staring at him, as if he were the most important thing in the world.

  The four of them started walking towards us, and I totally forgot how to breathe. What would I say? Come on Amber, you wanted to meet normal people, meet a normal boy … remember?

  The only problem was that Jason Turner was about as far away from normal as you could get.

  Chapter Two

  Jason

  Wow, what do we have here? New girls were rare enough. New and beautiful were unheard of. It was like finding a diamond on the football field.

  Our eyes locked, and for a brief moment, I forgot about football, saving enough to buy my dad’s truck, grades, fixing Nick’s car, and the party next week. All of it disappeared. My gut lurched sideways, and I froze in place.

  Her hair was dark, a dark reddish brown with a hint of highlights. Her white blouse stretched and jeans curved at all the right places, just enough to send a spark of animalistic reaction to my insides. Her face looked like someone had designed the perfect girl, heart shaped, flawless, and wholesome. Both beautiful and pretty. The kind of face that could trap a man if he wasn’t careful.

  Most of all, though, were her deep brown eyes. They pulled at me. I swear I couldn’t have looked away if I tried. I stepped forward waiting for Marla to introduce us, my gaze never leaving her face.

  Marla introduced us with a roll of her eyes. Amber stepped back as all four of us guys stepped forward at the same time. I was fastest. Nick tried to shoulder me out of the way, but I was ready for him and trod on his foot as I held my hand out to shake hers.

  She blushed a little and looked almost overwhelmed. Where was she from, what was her story? Suddenly, it had become the most important thing in the world to know everything about her.

  “Welcome to Everton, Amber,” I said, as a warm tingle ran up my arm from where we touched.

  “Yeah, Welcome. It’s about time we got some new talent around here,” Nick said, as he elbowed me out of the way so he could properly greet her. Leave it to Nick, always full of class. He might be my best friend, but that didn’t mean we weren’t going to have a serious discussion later.

  Both Luke and Tank said hi, neither of them seemed as interested as Nick or I. Which only went to prove that both of them were dead from the knees up.

  “Hi, um … hi,” Amber said with a shy smile.

  “Come on, it’s stroganoff,” Tank said, as he started herding us to my house.

  “Are you having dinner with us?” I asked, as I fell in step next to her.

  She nodded her head shyly, and my heart melted. Careful big boy, remember rule number one, no girlfriends this year. You promised yourself that you were going to play the field. Date, fool around, have fun. Nothing serious I reminded myself. Football, school work – without which there would be no football- and then girls, plural. In that order.

  Something told me I was going to be rethinking things.

  The savory aroma of Mom’s beef stroganoff enveloped us as we walked into the house. Tank’s stomach rumbled, and Nick laughed. The table was set, ready to go. I waited so that I could maneuver myself next to Amber but Marla was three steps ahead of me. She pulled out a chair next to Dad on the end and sat on the other side of her.

  Once Amber had gotten settled, Marla shot me a look of pure glee. The girl loved making my life miserable. That’s okay, this way I got to look across the table at an Angel.

  .o0o.

  Amber

  So this is what they mean by eating family style. Each person took a portion of salad or stroganoff then passed it along to the next person. I waited quietly until everyone had gotten their food but I noticed none of the four Lakeland boys, as I had named them, waited. Each of them dug into their meal as if it was the last food they would ever eat.

  Mrs. Turner didn’t seem to mind. Mr. Turner wasn’t far behind them.

  “So, Amber, what do your parents do?” Mr. Turner asked me between bites. He seemed like a nice man, tall and slim with thinning brown hair.

  Marla had told me that he owned a construction company. In fact, they’d built most of the houses in Lakeland Estates. Her mother worked part time at the library. I had a feeling I would be seeing a lot of Mrs. Turner in the future.

  “My mother’s a professor at Columbia,” I answered. “She’s on sabbatical right now. My father’s an author. Thrillers mostly.”

  “Not Dereck Johnson?” Mrs. Turner gasped from the far end of the table. “I love his books.”

  This was where it usually started. Where people would ask a thousand questions. What was it like living with a famous author –okay- or: was it hard living up to the expectations of such an esteemed mother. –Sometimes-.

  I took a quick bite of stroganoff to excuse myself from having to talk.

  Wow, this was good. I hadn’t expected the warm mesh of flavors and texture. My mouth cried for more.

  “This is very good, Mrs. Turner. Thank you for inviting me,” I said and even meant it.

  “Yes, perfect as always Mrs. T,” Tank said around a mouthful of food. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Marla shake her head.

  “Thank you,” both Luke and Nick said as well. Mrs. Turner blushed and smiled to herself.

  The table surprised me by not focusing on my parents. Mr. Turner asked Nick about his car. Marla and her mom got into a sharp discussion about what she was wearing the first day of school. Mrs. Turner was a little more conservative than her daughter.

  All this was going on while the Scandinavian god from Asgard itself sat across from me. Peering at me from under those gorgeous eyebrows as if examining a potential meal. I was so far out of my comfort zone I couldn’t even see it from here.

  Lowering my eyes, I focused on my meal and listened to
them, especially the four older boys. Marla had two little brothers. Michael who was about eight and little John, who at two, was still in a high chair at his mother’s elbow. He was making faces at Luke who was making them right back. The little boy would giggle each time

  “Leave him alone Luke,” Mrs. Turner said with a smile. “Or, he’ll never finish.

  All this was going on while I tried desperately to think of something to say. Some question that could spark conversation without it revolving around my parents or why we had moved here.

  “Marla said that you do this every Thursday,” I said. I expected Mr. Turner to answer, but it was Jason who jumped in.

  “Yeah, Mom cooks a big dinner every Thursday for all four of us. Tank’s mom used to do the same thing on Monday’s, but that stopped a couple of years ago.”

  Tank dipped his head, the tips of his ears turning pink. He took another bite, choosing not to join the conversation.

  “She says it’s her only way to make sure I sit down for a family meal at least once a week,” Jason continued, “she knew if she invited the guys, then I had to come home to eat.”

  “So, Amber,” Marla said, obviously trying to change the subject, “What do you like to do? Do you have any hobbies?”

  “Yes, Amber, what excites you?” Jason said. His eyes were smirking while his lips stayed neutral. Only someone sitting across from him would catch his meaning. Or, someone who’s arm still tingled from his touch.

  What did I like? Oh God, I’d forgotten everything about my own life.

  “I uh … like to draw, and read a lot,” I said, pleased with myself for remembering how to talk.

  “Wow, I bet you loved living in New York. All those galleries and bookshops,” Mrs. Turner said.

  We talked a bit about my favorite authors. If I hadn’t been told already, I would have known immediately that Marla’s mom was a librarian. They all seemed to know every author and always had a recommendation of who I should try next. The entire time we talked, I could feel Jason watching me.

  Why? I wondered. Why is he watching me like that? He can’t be that interested in what books I’ve read.

  The meal continued with people talking over each other, joking, and teasing. I felt like an outsider, but didn’t care. I was witnessing a different way of life, a simpler, happier way of life that gave me an insight to why people had big families.

  As we finished eating, Jason said, “Who’s up for a game of hoops?”

  “Not until you’ve finished the dishes,” Mrs. Turner said to a room full of groans.

  “You know the rules, no dishes this week, no dinner next week. I’m thinking lasagna.”

  “Come on guys, let’s get them done,” Tank said, as he pushed his chair back.

  I offered to help, but Marla shook her head, “No way, it’s their turn.” I will never understand the brother – sister dynamic.

  Chapter Three

  Jason

  The day was perfect. The last perfect day of the year. A high blue sky, a fresh breeze. A crystal blue mountain lake, four friends, and a case of beer. It was also probably the last time we would ever be like this again. This free, this together, this alive.

  We were hanging out at our spot. Our camp, as we called it. We’d claimed it five years earlier.

  Tank had found it while traipsing through the woods on one of those days when he wanted to get lost. A hidden paradise, about a half mile from the housing development. An open meadow up next to a deep blue lake full of wild trout. No sound except that of nature. Birds, the wind, and the passing of clouds. A green, fresh smell of life, growth, and potential hung in the air. It was ours.

  This was where we came to get away from everyone else. No rules, nobody looking over our shoulder telling us what to do. A place where we could talk, laugh, and just be.

  That first summer we’d built a club house out of used plywood from one of my dad’s building sites. A conglomeration of pieces and parts that kept us semi-dry during a hundred camping trips. I’d never been prouder of anything. It was ours, we built it. This was the one spot in the world where I could be me.

  Not someone’s son, not the quarterback, team leader. Not the student, who hated school by the way. Not even the popular kid. Always being judged. Everyone watching, waiting for me to fail. Here, with these guys, I could just be me, Jason Turner.

  So many memories. This was where Luke learned how to swim. Where Nick and I got into our first, and last knockdown, drag out, fist fight. It was where Tank broke down and cried the night he told us about what was going on with his dad. We didn’t judge him, didn’t tease him. We were beyond that point. Now we only teased about stuff that didn’t matter.

  It was where we puked our guts out after trying one of Nick’s dad’s cigars. It was where we got drunk the first time and had our first hangovers the next morning. The Camp, it was sacred ground. Our sacred ground.

  The four of us lay on our backs, shirts off, hands behind our heads soaking up some rays. Tank and I had been roofing for my father all summer, so we weren’t going to get burned. Nick had that swarthy Italian thing going, no problem there. Luke, on the other hand, looked whiter than a bed sheet.

  “I got my school schedule in the mail yesterday,” I said to no one in particular.

  “Yeah? So? We all did,” Nick replied.

  “I’ve got Kennedy for English Lit.”

  “Uh, that sucks,” Tank said. “He’s tougher than crap. Doesn’t give football players any slack.

  “No skating through this time, big guy,” Luke said with a small chuckle.

  “You know Luke, girls don’t go for that whole pasty white skin thing you got going. You may want to think about investing in a tanning lamp,” I said.

  “I am continually amazed at how dumb girls can be,” Luke said without opening his eyes. “They say they want a nice guy, then go goofy over a jerk like Nick here. They say they want intelligent, funny men, but follow Jason around like lost puppies.”

  “Hey, that’s half your problem,” I said. “You’re still trying to figure out what girls want. The rest of us have already realized we’ll never understand them.”

  “Lucky for you, girls go for that whole dumb jock thing, or you’d be so screwed,” he answered.

  “That is exactly what I want, to be so screwed,” I said with a laugh.

  “Speaking of screwed, what do we think of the new talent,” Nick interjected.

  My hands instinctively clenched. I had to force myself not to react. If Nick saw that I gave a crap about what he thought about Amber he’d never let up. In fact, the more interested I seemed, the more likely he was to go for her himself.

  “I think she’s nice. Besides, it’s great that Marla’s finally got a friend on the street,” Tank said.

  “You think everyone’s nice. That was not what I was talking about,” Nick said.

  “She’s not your type,” I said to Nick.

  “What do you mean? She’s a girl. They are all my type. Especially, when they look like she does.”

  Luke snorted. “She’s too intelligent for someone like you, Nick.”

  “I think she’s not a love ‘em and leave ‘em type girl,” Tank said. “This isn’t some girl you can just use and throw away.”

  “Hey, I don’t do that. Everyone knows what they’re getting themselves into. I never lie to them, tell them I love them when I don’t. Never promise forever, flowers, and a future,” Nick said, sounding almost offended at the idea.

  “Besides,” Tank added, “she lives on our street, that means hands off.”

  “What? You’re telling me that if you had a chance in hell with her, you’d turn it down because she lived on our street?” Nick asked.

  There was a long pause before Luke said, “Of course not. We might be nice guys, but we are not idiots.”

  The four of us laughed. But, deep down I was worried. Amber had affected me more than I wanted to admit. The way she smiled, as if afraid someone would see she was enjoying lif
e. The way her eyes lit up when she talked about books. How she tugged at her earlobe when she was deep in thought. Everything she did seemed to pull at me.

  When you added in that angelic face and the way, her jeans clung to her curves. It was enough to make a guy reconsider what was important in the world.

  We lapsed into a strange silence, each of us lost in our own thoughts.

  “Hey, did I tell you guys I got the job at Sam’s diner, washing dishes three nights a week?” Luke told us. “I start on Tuesday.”

  “That’s great man,” Nick said. “Someday you’ll make someone an excellent wife.”

  “Screw you,” Luke said, as he good-naturedly punched Nick in the shoulder.

  This was it, I realized. The last time we would get together like this. We were drifting apart. I could feel it like a rip in the space-time fabric of life. We were going our different ways. Football practice started on Monday for Tank and me. Luke was working nights and studying his butt off to get an academic scholarship. Nick wasn’t playing football with us this year. He’d said he couldn’t stand the idea of being yelled at and being told what to do by a man he didn’t respect.

  Coach Erikson, at forty, had left his wife Mrs. Erikson the school guidance counselor for a nineteen-year-old former student. Everyone knew he’d been sleeping with her when she was a senior, but he had to wait until she graduated before he could leave his wife. And, no one in authority said anything. It might be legal, but it wasn’t right.

  It didn’t seem right, Nick not being on the team. We’d been playing together for years. Tank felt the same way. It just wasn’t going to be the same without Nick there.

  Sometimes I wondered who you could trust in this world. Really trust. Tank had learned the hard way that parents weren’t always truthful. They had their own lives. Besides, they didn’t always see what was important in the world. Marla, my two little brothers no way. They’d rat me out in a heartbeat.