8
It had been two weeks since Emery had first stepped onto Levi’s porch for the first time, with nerves in her stomach and princess-shaped macaroni in her future. Since then, things had fallen into a routine that felt… natural. Peaceful.
Emery no longer needed an alarm in the mornings in order to wake up and drive over to the ranch; she was waking up excited and eager to start the day off.
She'd handle the morning hustle—lunches packed, shoes found, June’s hair wrangled into a braid that never stayed for long.
Levi had stopped hovering as much, even let her do the dishes without fighting her about it.
They hadn’t had many moments alone since that first week. A few shared looks over the dinner table, a nod of thanks when she handed him a clean dish towel. Nothing earth-shattering, but something was there between them. Familiar, comfortable, easy.
Today’s errands were simple–a quick stop at the general store for more dish soap and snack packs.
She was walking through the small grocery store, crossing off a short list. Apples, peanut butter, and more of the coffee creamer she liked.
She'd started skipping the little drive-through coffee shop and now made hers in the morning at the ranch after Levi had filled his mug.
She paused in the cereal aisle. Two women stood a few feet away, chatting around the corner of the end cap full of shelves of cake mix.
“Did you see who Levi’s got living in his house these days?”
That name stopped Emery mid-step.
The women didn’t know that anyone was within earshot .
“I just think it’s strange,” one woman said, her tone too casual to be kind. “Levi is letting someone else run his house. That man’s been doing everything on his own for years.”
“She’s not living there,” the other replied, voice laced with fake sympathy and real judgment. “Though you wouldn’t know it with the way she’s been playing house. Some city girl who probably burned through any other options she had and thinks she landed herself a free ride with a single dad.”
“She’s probably got no idea what she’s doing, either. Bet she thinks she’s going to be the one to change him. Like he hasn’t already run off better women than her.”
The first one laughed. “She’s just the flavor of the month. I give it another week, then he’ll run her off. Poor thing probably thinks she’s the one who’ll stick.”
Emery’s stomach twisted, her hand gripping the basket tighter. She wasn’t sure what stung more—their words, or the sharp reminder that maybe she didn’t really belong here.
She wanted to march over and say something biting and clever.
But instead, Emery exhaled slowly, not wanting to cause a scene or do anything to embarrass Levi.
Her face burned—not from embarrassment, but frustration.
They didn’t know her. They didn’t know what she had walked away from, or how hard she was trying to build something that didn’t feel empty.
And yet… They already had a story about her crafted in their minds.
She quickly checked out, skipping the rest of her list, and climbed into her car, gripping the steering wheel for a moment.
The sun was too bright, and the air felt thick.
She’d left a job where her value was tied to other people’s power. She didn’t come here to be judged by strangers for finding something that actually felt good for once.
Her phone buzzed with a text.
LEVI: Just finished up with the tractor. Should be done earlier than normal today. Thought I’d grill tonight. Hope you’re still staying.
She drew her brows together, probably trying a little too hard to decipher his text.
Hope you're still staying.
That definitely didn't fit his usual texting tone of short and to the point.
Deciding she was probably reading too much into it because of the conversation she had just heard in the grocery store, she went on to pick June up from school like she always did, listening as she chatted about spelling tests and a boy who ate a crayon.
Her little backpack bounced against her back as they walked to the car.
Emery nodded at the right times, smiled when June looked up at her, but it felt automatic. Distant.
By the time they pulled up to the farmhouse, Emery still hadn’t shaken the sting of those women from town. June burst through the front door ahead of her, kicking off her shoes and shouting for her dad.
Levi appeared from the hallway, wiping his hands on a clean rag. His eyes flicked up to Emery the second she stepped inside, his brow furrowing slightly .
Something was off.
She set her bag on the counter and started unpacking June’s lunchbox as if it were any other day, but didn’t talk much. Her usual energy was missing. She smiled, sure—but it was forced and didn’t look genuine.
Levi leaned a hip against the counter, his arms crossed. June had already disappeared into her room to change.
“You okay?” he asked quietly, voice low and even.
Emery glanced up. “Yeah,” she said too quickly. “Just tired. Long day.”
He didn’t push—not with June just down the hall, but he didn’t look convinced either.
“All right,” he said simply. “Dinner’s all prepped. Thought I’d fire up the grill, see if June’ll eat something other than macaroni for once.”
That earned him the smallest of smiles from her, and he held her gaze for an extra beat.
She turned back to washing out June’s lunchbox, keeping her hands busy.
Levi walked outside toward the grill, but not before glancing back just long enough to wonder who or what had put that shadow behind her eyes.
The smell of grilled chicken hung in the air as the sun dipped low, casting golden light across the porch and the small outdoor table.
June was chatting happily between bites, retelling a story about a girl in her class who claimed her dog could talk.
Levi chuckled, humoring her, asking if the dog had anything smart to say.
Emery smiled faintly and pushed food around her plate, nodding along but not saying much.
She felt off-kilter, like her skin didn’t quite fit. The conversation still echoed in her head, squashing her appetite and dimming her usual light. Maybe they were right, and she didn't fit here. Maybe she had made up any sort of spark she thought she felt between her and Levi.
After dinner, June asked if she could go inside and play. “Please? I wanna set up a tea party for my stuffed animals,” she grinned up at Emery .
“Of course,” Emery said, brushing a crumb off June’s cheek before she darted back into the house.
Levi stayed outside, scraping the grill with a wire brush, the metal-on-metal sound filling the quiet space that followed.
Emery sat a few feet away in a chair on the porch, soaking up the warmth from the evening sun with her arms crossed, unsure if she should offer to help or head out for the night.
“All right, sunshine. You ready to tell me what’s wrong yet?” Levi asked without looking up.
His voice wasn’t sharp, but it cut straight through her wall anyway—low, steady, concerned.
Emery blinked, startled. “I’m fine,” she replied just a little too quickly.
Levi set the brush down on the side of the grill and turned to face her, wiping his hands on a rag. “No, you’re not.”
He wasn’t pressing. Just… there. Solid. Still in his usual faded jeans but comfortable in his socks, arms now folded across his chest, he watched her like he co uld wait all night.
Emery shifted, eyes dropping to the edge of the porch.
She didn’t want to sound petty. She didn’t want to look insecure or like she expected something from him that he had never offered. But the words were already right there on the tip of her tongue, too heavy to keep swallowing.
“I was at the grocery store earlier,” she said quietly, still not looking at him. “Overheard a couple of women who had a lot to say about the city girl playing house out here.”
Levi’s brows pulled together slightly. “What?”
“They think I’m…” She let out a breath. “They think I’m just here trying to change you. That I’m shacking up, playing games, and have no clue what I’m getting myself into.”
Levi was quiet, but the kind of quiet that filled a space, sharp and alert, not passive.
“I know it’s not a big deal,” she added quickly, arms folding tighter. “People talk. But it got under my skin. I didn’t even realize how much until I was halfway home and realized I forgot the damn fruit I went in for.”
Now she looked up at him, and the moment she did, she regretted it—because he wasn’t brushing it off. He wasn’t smirking or making light of it. He was looking at her, jaw tight, like the idea of anyone talking poorly about her made his blood run hot.
Levi took a slow step forward, then another.
“Is that why you barely touched your dinner?” he asked, voice low. “Because a couple of bored women with nothing better to do ran their fucking mouths?”
Emery gave a half-hearted shrug. “It’s stupid, I know. I'm just so tired of people assuming that the only way I can be good at something, or get anything worthwhile in life, is because I’m sleeping my way to success.”
“It’s not,” he said, shaking his head. “It’s not stupid, Emery.”
He crouched beside her chair, not touching her, but close enough that she could feel the heat radiating from him. Close enough that she caught the faint smell of him mixed with smoke and barbecue still clinging to his shirt.
“I don’t give a damn what anyone in town says,” he added. “They don’t know you. They don’t know anything about what goes on in this house—or how much easier it’s been with you here.”
That caught her attention. She looked at him again.
“I mean it,” he said simply. “You make this lighter.”
Something in her chest unknotted just a little.
He offered a small, teasing smile. “Besides, if they think you're sleeping with me to get ahead, they’re dumb as hell. They don't know my baggage, it wouldn't get you very far... and besides, you're not sleeping with me.”
Emery chuckled softly, the tension easing from her shoulders. “I'm not scared of your baggage, but yeah, you’re right. Minor details, I guess. ”
He leaned in slightly, his rough voice now softer. “Let me add that your presence here isn't just helpful—it's the highlight of my day.”
She smiled, a genuine one this time. “You're not so bad yourself.”
He grinned. “Careful, sunshine. Keep that up, and I might start thinking you're getting sweet on me.”
She laughed, the sound light and free. “Maybe I am.”
He reached out, gently brushing a strand of hair from her face. “Then we're both in trouble.”
But before she could reply, the screen door creaked open. June poked her head out, with a tiara crooked on her head and a teacup in her hand.
“Daddy, can Emery come to the tea party too?”
Levi stood and looked down at Emery, one brow raised. “You up for royal duties, sunshine?”
? ? ?
The house was still, the kind of quiet that only settled in after a child was finally tucked away under covers and asleep.
Levi stepped out to join Emery, who was sitting cross-legged on the porch swing. A soft breeze played with the stray wisps of hair that had fallen loose from her clip.
He leaned against the porch rail, arms crossed. “You did good in there. June’s convinced that imaginary tea was the real deal.”
Emery smiled, but it was tired, still weighed down.
A few seconds passed before she quietly said, “I know I probably overreacted earlier.” She picked at a thread on her sleeve. “It’s not just what they said… It’s how they said it, like I don’t belong here. Like I’m some girl who's just waiting for the right man to latch onto.”
She glanced up at him. “I’ve worked my ass off for everything I’ve had. School. My career. Even now, trying to start over… I’m not just... looking for an easy ou t.”
He saw it then. Not just hurt. But frustration. The kind that builds from years of having to prove yourself. The kind that comes from knowing people would rather assume the worst than ask the truth.
“I know,” he said softly.
“But they don’t,” she replied, her voice shaking slightly. “And that’s what gets me. Because I don’t want anyone else thinking I’m just... sleeping my way into a new life. Or that I’m some placeholder until you find someone more qualified.”
Levi's brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”
She looked away, forcing out a breath. “They said you’ve turned down better women than me, and that I was just the flavor of the week.”
That got his attention. He pushed off the rail and moved toward her, stopping right in front of the swing she was sitting on.
“I haven’t let anyone in this house since June’s mom walked out that door,” he said, his voice low and steady. “Not because there weren’t offers… but be cause none of them mattered. None of them felt right.”
His eyes met hers.
“You showing up on my porch with your messy hair and your city girl shoes? You are the first thing that felt like it might be worth the risk.”
She blinked, caught off guard.
He gave a small, crooked smile. “And for the record… I’m the one who should be worried about not measuring up. Not the other way around.”
The silence between them stretched, warm this time.
Her voice was softer when she spoke again. “I just hate knowing that people are assuming things.”
“Let ‘em talk,” he said simply. “We know the truth.”
Then, almost as an afterthought, he added, “And if you were trying to sleep your way to the top, you’re doing a terrible job.”
She laughed, and this time, it was real.
“I guess I’ll have to step it up,” she teased.
Levi tipped his head. “Careful, Em.”
Their eyes held. The air shifted.
And then the porch light flickered, as if reminding them of the real world still turning around them.
“I should get going,” she murmured, standing slowly.
“Yeah,” Levi said, voice a little hoarse. “Early morning.”
As she reached the porch steps, he called after her.
“Emery?”
She turned, now at the bottom step, before hitting the gravel driveway.
“You belong here. Don’t let anyone make you question that.”
She gave a small nod. “Night, Levi.”
“Night”