Southbound Surrender Read Online Free PDF

kicked off, depends on what story you want to believe. But enough about Hudson. What’s your story?” I ask, shoving my hands in my pocket trying to stay collected.
    “You want to know my story?” she asks. Her eyebrows quirk up in a gentle u-shape, molded like the Gateway Arch in St. Louis, and I start to think about what it would be like to whisk her away, just the two of us. I’m envisioning us on the Shovelhead, touring the west coast with her blonde hair flapping in the wind. She’d hold me tight, her arms wrapped around my waist. Hell, I’d even ride through North Dakota as long as it was with her. Anything and anyplace would be exciting with this girl.
    “Are you sure you want to venture that deep, Mr. Cash? Into the ring of fire?” she adds.
    “Good one. Johnny Cash. It’s not the first time I heard that one,” I reply. “Usually I get called the man in black by someone more seasoned than you.”
    “Seasoned, huh? I wouldn’t peg you for the type to go for older women,” she says with a smile.
    “I’m full of surprises,” I say, but I don’t know what the hell it means. All I know is that I’m not lying, and I’m nervous as hell.
    “You going to the party tonight after the football game?”
    “How’d you know about the party? I thought you just moved here?”
    “You’re observant. If I didn’t know better I’d call you a stalker,” she teases.
    “I saw the storage container in your driveway,” I reply, feeling my hands sweat out a pool of water in my pockets. “How’d you know about the game?”
    “I get around. I hear news wherever I go. Are you going?”
    “No.”
    “Good.” She turns out her palm toward me. “You owe me five dollars. For the pen.”
    “I don’t owe you anything. I want my pen back.”
    “You can get it back tomorrow, boy,” she replies as she puts her hand on her hip.
    The fact that she calls me a boy doesn’t faze me because all I can concentrate on is the word tomorrow . If tomorrow means I get to see Piper, count today a distant memory. “How can I get my pen back?”
    “Meet me at my fence at noon tomorrow and you’ll see,” she whispers as she leans in, kisses the tips of her fingers, and presses them on my lips.
    God, does she press them on my lips.
    I don’t want her fingers to move, ever. But she pulls them away, grabs hold of her basket with both hands, and turns to leave. Her blonde waves swish back and forth as she walks down the aisle toward Hudson. She gives his elbow a playful nudge before she passes him.
    “What about your dad?” I call to her.
    She doesn’t miss a beat or turn her head to answer my question. Instead, she replies over her shoulder, “Stop looking at my ass, Cash Rowland.”
    I stand dumbfounded, love-struck, paralyzed and all of the above as she parades out of the aisle and out of view.
    “What the hell was that?” Hudson walks back toward me all wide-eyed as he slaps my chest in a sign of man-to-man camaraderie I never quite understood until this moment. It feels right the way he hits my chest as if I’ve scored the biggest jackpot of my life, and I think that maybe I just have.
    “I don’t know,” I whisper. “But I’m going to find out.”

Chapter 3

    I got exactly three hours and thirty-four minutes of sleep last night. I spent the rest of the night obsessing about the girl that walked into my life less than twenty-four hours ago. I couldn’t stop thinking about her. As we walked back through Target I thought she’d peek out behind the shower curtains when we passed them or find her sitting in a display chair, with her legs crossed and her mouth chewing on that sleek pen of mine. I thought I’d see her in the parking lot climbing into some little hotrod car that her rich dad bought her. Maybe she drove a Mercedes or BMW. Or better yet, a Camaro. I imagine it pink like her swimsuit or maybe peach. When I crawled out of bed this morning, I took a cold shower. A real cold shower.
    I’m standing at the