And Then I Saw You., page 1
And Then I Saw You.
A. L. Fox
A. L. Fox
Copyright © 2023 by A. L. Fox
All rights reserved.
No parts of this book may be reproduced in any form by any electronic or mechanical means including information, written without permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a review.
All characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author. This book is a work of fiction.
Cover design: A. L. Fox via Canva
ISBN: 979-8-218-32153-6
Trigger Warning
There is mention of fertility issues. Some of the complications and emotions that go along with that are voiced throughout. Not heavily, in my opinion, but it is a super small sub-plot. It is not graphic but it may be a something to think about prior to diving in if that is something your beautiful heart is extra emotional towards.
Also, not so much a trigger warning but just a general "hey, here's the thing." This book is not meant for anything other than fun. My entire goal for this story was to be something that makes you laugh. You'll see the dedication in two pages and it's fully that kind of vibe. I kept telling myself as I wrote And Then I Saw You. that I wanted this to feel almost unrealistic. And I think I reached that goal. I love this story, but if you don't enjoy a crazy, wild, unhinged ride just for the sake of a laugh and swoon, this may not be the book for you. Just keep that in mind going forward. I don't want you to be mad at me, haha.
Okay, that covers it. Enjoy. xoxo
Playlist
Take Me to Church – Hozier
Remember When – Chris Wallace
Cowboy Take Me Away – The Chicks
Livin' On a Prayer – Bon Jovi
Chicken Fried – Zac Brown Band
What a Man Gotta Do – Jonas Brothers
Be My Baby Tonight – John Michael Montgomery
This Kiss – Faith Hill
Things Dads Do – Thomas Rhett
Mama, I'm Alright – Miranda Lambert
It's All Because of You – Tyler Barham
Take Your Time – Sam Hunt
the lakes – Taylor Swift
I Think About You – Collin Raye
Hail Varsity (Live) – Nebraska Cornhuskers
Watching You – Rodney Atkins
Honey, Honey – Mamma Mia Cast
Baby Shark – Pinkfong
September – Earth, Wind & Fire
Time Warp – The Rocky Horror Picture Show Cast
Home – Michael Buble
My Girl – Dylan Scott
I Can Do Better Than That – Anna Kendrick
Right Now the Best – Zach Bryan
Without You – Diplo & Elle King
Santa Baby – Eartha Kitt
Temporary Town – Charles Wesley Godwin
Set Fire to the Rain – Adele
What Hurts the Most – Rascal Flatts
Be Happy – Mary J. Blige
Come Back Home – Sofia Carson
Mom – Garth Brooks
This one is for anyone who loves
a story that makes them think
“that’s fucking insane” and “oh how cute”
in the same breath.
Contents
Prologue
1. Chapter One
2. Chapter Two
3. Chapter Three
4. Chapter Four
5. Chapter Five
6. Chapter Six
7. Chapter Seven
8. Chapter Eight
9. Chapter Nine
10. Chapter Ten
11. Chapter Eleven
12. Chapter Twelve
13. Chapter Thirteen
14. Chapter Fourteen
15. Chapter Fifteen
16. Chapter Sixteen
17. Chapter Seventeen
18. Chapter Eighteen
19. Chapter Nineteen
20. Chapter Twenty
21. Chapter Twenty-One
22. Chapter Twenty-Two
23. Chapter Twenty-Three
24. Chapter Twenty-Four
25. Chapter Twenty-Five
26. Chapter Twenty-Six
27. Chapter Twenty-Seven
28. Chapter Twenty-Eight
29. Chapter Twenty-Nine
30. Chapter Thirty
31. Chapter Thirty-One
Epilogue
Recipe for Carter's Aunt's "Mexican Meatloaf"
Acknowledgements
About the Author
Also By
Prologue
Take Me to Church
August 2018
Carter
Holy shit. Wow.
“What’s up, brother?”
I whip my gaze to my buddy, “Huh?”
Ken laughs at me before saying, “You said “wow”. I couldn’t figure out why." He raises a blonde eyebrow at me.
I did not mean to say that out loud.
“I was looking at that woman down there.” I gesture in front of us.
She is gorgeous. Her light blue jeans hug her curvy butt and hips, giving me a good view of just how much there is to hold on to. She’s got on this gray t-shirt and even though I haven't seen the front of her yet, I would bet money it has got some bad ass band on the front. Her long brown hair hits the middle of her back and every time she turns her head to talk to the man standing next to her, I notice the bright, cherry red lipstick she has painted on her seemingly perfect mouth.
Ken says something back after seeing who I was talking about, but I can't hear him. No— all I hear is the voice in my head telling me to go to her.
“I’ll be back, yeah?” I say to Ken as I bend down to grab the back of the gray chair in front of me. I step onto the foldable seat in the row in front of us before jumping down onto the concrete floor of the stadium. Then I begin to finally make my way across the empty row to the stairs that lead down to her.
What am I doing?
My feet pause. This is not like me at all. I do not go after women like this. I've been too busy lately— or for the last decade. I hardly even notice the women around me. Taking over a large farming operation will do that to you. But it is what I always dreamed of. Being my own boss has its perks, obviously. But the actual farming aspect? That is what gets me. The math that goes behind every planting and spraying season. The science behind it all. The sheer will and faith that comes with a job that is so dependent on weather and nature. The hustle of harvest to beat the cold and wet Midwest conditions that can wreck a good year. All of the hard work, the hand shaking, the ass kissing; it was all worth it.
I stand still for another moment, never taking my eyes off of her. Wow, she is beautiful. Seriously, something akin to a goddess. The curl of her hair and the curve of her ass, I would drop to my knees now and worship her if it meant she would just tell me her name.
What the fuck Carter, get it together. You are never like this. About anyone. Ever.
I pull my dark gray Ford baseball cap off of my head and run my hand through my just-long-enough black hair before bending the bill of it a few times and then putting it back on. The need to do something with my hands is damn near overwhelming. I take a deep breath and pull my blue jeans up just to have them settle back on my hips. I am stalling. I kick the heel of my brown cowboy boot on the step behind me before and whisper, "Get it together, man." As I continue my descent I shake my hands out at my sides as if it will help displace some of this nervous energy.
The arena in Sioux Falls, South Dakota is packed to the brim. The parking outside is absolute shit, and the tall-boy Busch Lights are essentially highway robbery in price. But the atmosphere in here is killer and the music tonight is going to be incredible. Eric Church is a fucking master of his craft. This building is massive inside. Two stories with a standing pit area, a lower and upper bowl. We are about smack dab in the middle of the entire arena, a view of the whole place at our disposal. The stage feels pretty far away but even so, EC is good enough it won’t matter.
As I get closer to her row, I hear her laugh and I find myself pausing my prowling to gain control over myself. Again. This is not who I am. I do not pine. I do not prowl. I do not fucking swoon. I almost never have to make the first move. I am chalking it all up to the fact that she is six rows in front of me therefore she has not had the chance to see me yet. It's the curiosity that is driving me. That's it.
Whatever you need to tell yourself, big guy.
Her laugh… Oh her laugh. It is like a shining light. Not the sunlight, no. It's not something so easily available to the masses. It's like a lighthouse on the coast of an ocean, signaling to a boat trying to get to its dock— a savior. It is like the flashlight you need when you go down in your basement to reset the breakers during a storm— a necessity. Like the warm glow from a fire in the middle of a cut down field, the sky is black, but the stars are bright and plentiful, and the air smells like burnt wood and cut grass— a moment of peace. Her laugh is like that, full and good. Simple but life altering. Familiar in a way I can't explain. And if I am not careful… earth shattering.
I inch closer, taking my time because I do not want to fumble this play. Who is the guy she is with? They seem close, she keeps grabbing his arm and shoving her shoulder into his. I have not seen them kiss or anything though so maybe he is just her really good best friend?
God, I hope so.
I clear my throat, standing so close to her that now I can smell the swee
“Hey there, miss.”
She turns to me, her face showing nothing but genuine kindness, even to the stranger interrupting her conversation.
And holy shit, I was not prepared.
Wide, perfect eyes. Though, I am not sure I wouldn’t find all of her perfect at this point. The brightest green, like blades of tall grass after a night of rain in July, they draw me right in. A little more than a yard between us and I can still see the golden ring that surrounds her pupil. Not to sound too country, but I swear to all it would match my John Deere baler. She’s got the most beautifully freckled cheeks, rosy from some sort of blush or whatever it is. The smallest, silver hoop hanging off the side of her alarmingly adorable speckled nose. Her bright red lips are just as I had thought they would be up close, full and impressive.
And the king himself, Johnny fucking Cash, is staring back at me from the front of her t-shirt.
I’d propose right now, honestly.
I sound like a damn lunatic. I know this. But I can't seem to care.
“Hey!” Her smile is wide, showing off straight, white teeth.
Lord have mercy, her voice.
Her voice is deeper than what I had pictured. Not quite raspy but not high pitched like I had assumed. I would listen to her read me the phonebook, that is all I know.
“Are we in your way? I’m so sorry!” She moves to exit her row, trying to go around me to let me in.
Yes, let me in. Please.
She gently places her hand on my bicep to steady herself by the stairs. I reach out and grasp her freckled wrist, stopping her. Her skin is smooth. It takes everything in me to not move my thumb around and trace all of the small brown dots.
“No, no,” I rush out. “I’m up a few rows. I just…”
How do I say this without being a creep?
After a moment of quiet contemplation she asks carefully, “Is everything okay?”
She glances up to where I had looked. Ken, who is watching this all with a smile the size of a football field on his annoying face, gives her a small wave.
“Yes,” I say, drawing her attention back.
I look down to where my dark tanned hand is still holding her arm. The contrast between us is beautiful. Bright, light skin on her and the dark, weathered skin of mine. She tracks my movement. I slowly remove my grasp, immediately missing the feel of her smoothness beneath my roughness.
“Everything is great. I don’t know how to ask this without sounding like a weirdo, so I’m just going to ask it.” I see her assumed-friend inch closer.
Totally forgot about him.
“Are you married? Or taken at all?”
The look of surprise on her face is alarming. Did I not ask that right? Was I not respectful enough?
“You want to know if I am married?” she clarifies slowly. Her dark eyebrows are drawn down in clear confusion.
“Yes, ma’am.” I nod. “It’s just… I noticed you from up there and you’re so beautiful that I would have kicked myself all night if I hadn’t asked.”
Her gorgeous face doesn’t change much. I see her bite the inside corner of her bottom lip and that does real funny things to my chest and head.
Focus, dude.
“You want to know if I am single?” She asks again, emphasizing ‘you’ and ‘I’.
I nod enthusiastically. “Absolutely, I do.”
She laughs and I feel like dropping to my damn knees again.
Her green eyes land on my blue ones and she says, “You’re kidding right?" Her smile fades a little. "You’re not serious.” She draws the words out as she narrows her gaze.
“I’ve never been more serious in my life,” I say without a moment of hesitation.
She laughs again, this time a little more and I swear to all I would lay my life down at her sandal-wearing feet to hear that sound for the rest of my life.
She stops laughing, dabbing at her eyes with black polished fingers, before saying, “Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry. That was so rude of me, laughing like that.” She straightens, her face falling to a more serious position, and goes on. “I swear I was not laughing at you. Thank you for the compliment. That was very nice of you.”
I’m immediately pissed at the tone and phrasing… As though she is trying to be almost diplomatic. Like this is some sort of transaction. As if I could not possibly be sincere.
“You don’t believe me.” I don't ask it, it's not a question.
“Well…” she scoffs, rolling her spectacular eyes.
“What else would be the reason for me coming down here and being so forward if it weren’t true?”
“I mean come on,” she says while looking me over and raising her brows. I arch a brow at her and she takes notice that I’m not picking up what she’s putting down before continuing. “It could be a bet. Like, with your friends. You could be six beers deep and not thinking clearly. You could have been dared.” With each scenario this incredulous woman gives, she ticks them off on her hand.
She shrugs her shoulders, and my irritation grows. Not at her. I don't even know her but still, never at her. Who in the fuck made this insanely gorgeous woman doubt that a man could openly and sincerely find her attractive? So much so that she literally does not believe that I am here of my volition?
I hold up my own hand and go over her list. “One beer, an hour ago. My friends did not bet me or dare me. I was sitting up there in my seat, saw you move into your row, felt absolutely drawn to you and I needed— NEED to know if there is any chance in hell of getting your name and number.”
“Truly?” Her face scrunches a bit, her nose wrinkling slightly.
I’m trying to continue to not be offended at this point. I don't think I have ever had my intentions questioned so fiercely before.
“Truly.” I give one sure nod.
“Wow,” she says slowly. “Well, I am sorry then. I shouldn’t have been so rude. Thank you, that was really sweet of you.”
She takes a moment before responding. I watch her bring her her hands up in front of her chest. That is when I notice it, as her right hand goes to her left. I see her spin a ring around and do the logistics in my head.
Left hand.
Black nails.
Finger next to pinky.
Silver.
Slight scar in the middle of the top of her left hand.
Diamond.
Fuck.
“You’re married.” I keep my tone even and smile slightly, trying to conceal the absolute devastation I feel.
She snaps her gaze back to mine, reciprocating the same smile, neither of them meeting our eyes.
“Yes, I am married. But seriously, thank you for the compliment. That was really very nice of you.”
I nod, not knowing what to say to that.
“Enjoy the rest of your night.” Her smile turns more genuine, mine following suit.
“You too, miss.” I nod at the man behind her, still not sure if he's her husband. Who would just let a man hit on his wife like that? He's got to be a friend or something.
I take the stairs two at a time as I ascend them to go sit back down. Before I know it though, I am walking past my row and to the hallway. I ignore Ken's hackling on my way.
I am going to go buy her a drink. She had a purple White Claw sitting by her feet. Buying her a drink will not hurt a damn thing. Right?
Right.
Kris
I turn, looking forward again, before I can even be tempted to watch him walk away.
“What the fuck was that?” Bryce asks.
“Well, you were here, so you saw exactly what it was,” I say dismissively.
I’m sure he is back up with his friend now. He has to be around two inches over six feet, built like a fucking linebacker, and incredibly hot. And he had come down here to see if I am single? Me? He is all thick thighs under those well-fitted jeans. Broad shoulders that had his t-shirt stretched nicely across his chest. And that quick touch of his upper arm told me all I needed to know about what is certainly not lacking there. Not a chance that was all real. Me? The girl with hips that are "meant for birthing." The woman with already sagging boobs and pale skin that does not tan. A belly that I couldn’t hide even if I tried. Chins; plural. Yeah, right.
