CHAPTER FOUR
The dresser meets the carpet with a quiet thump. In contrast, Harper is making quite a racket. She groans while stretching her back. Several joints crack from the movement. A wince pinches her features that she has aimed at the ceiling.
“Don’t tell my feminist side that I’m admitting this, but the moving process would’ve been significantly easier with some manpower.” She releases another pained noise.
My hand automatically lifts to rub her shoulder. “I’m grateful for your help.”
“It’s my pleasure. Besides, now I have the perfect excuse to get a massage from my husband. Extra long and hard, if you know what I mean.” Harper’s eyebrows wiggle.
A blush heats my cheeks at the brazen visual of my new neighbor giving me a similar treatment. “That sounds… relaxing.”
“What’s got that dreamy look on your face? Other than the obvious.” She motions around my bedroom that’s in desperate need of organizing.
Predictable insecurity creeps in and replaces the fizzy bubbles in my stomach. I knot my fingers until the knuckles turn white. “Do you think I text Ridge too much?”
“That’s where your mind goes after we heaved massive hunks of furniture up too many stairs?”
“Yes?” More uncertainty. Shocking.
My friend must hear the doubt plaguing my voice. She grips my arms and gives me a reassuring squeeze. “Do you text him too much by most standards? Absolutely. But Ridge isn’t an ordinary guy, especially where you’re concerned.”
I latch onto a specific piece of her explanation. A soft exhale deflates the tension from my posture. “You’re right. He’s certainly special. Unlike any man I’ve ever met.”
“Good grief. I’m the one who just got married, but you’re wafting love potion fumes all over me. I’ll be begging Jake to knock me up if we’re not careful.” She laughs and fans her face. “To be honest, according to what I’ve witnessed, you’re probably not messaging him enough.”
My mood rebounds. “Really?”
“Um, yeah. I’ve got a seriously big hunch.” Harper studies me for a moment, catching where my thoughts have wandered off to. “You want to text him right now, don’t you?”
I chew on my thumbnail. “Uh-huh.”
She giggles and shakes her head. “You’re too cute. I bet he’s just sitting over there waiting for you to message him.”
That has me scrambling to get my phone. “Oh, gosh. He probably thinks I’m ignoring him.”
Her hand stills mine before I can start typing. “Hold on. Does he ever initiate contact?”
“We haven’t been writing to each other for very long. Just since you gave me his number last week,” I murmur. “Usually I reach out first.”
“Then let him do the honors.” Her nonchalant tone doesn’t pair well with this delicate situation.
My stomach sinks. “What if he doesn’t?”
“Oh, he will.”
I frown at my screen that remains blank in mocking. “How can you be so sure?”
Harper buzzes her lips. “Okay, Mopey Missy. There’s no need to pout. You just moved into a beautiful house. Let’s focus on that.”
The reminder tugs my lips into a weak smile. “It’s still hard to believe.” Even with the proof surrounding me.
“Are you super happy?”
“Yes,” I breathe and spin in a slow circle.
A bright future envelops me. That’s the shove I need to ditch the gloom. There isn’t a cause for upset. It’s silly to consider it for even a moment. I’ve experienced true misery. If Ridge doesn’t text me, I’ll be just fine. The limp expression on my mouth lifts and spreads wide to announce this revelation.
She claps at what I feel as personal growth. “See? That’s the spirit.”
“The past year has been surreal. When I left the compound, I couldn’t guess what was in store for me. I definitely didn’t dream of living in a place like this. It just wasn’t possible in my mind.”
Harper’s grin stretches to mirror mine. “Yet here you are. No dreaming necessary. Just goes to show that nice things can happen to those who deserve it, especially when you catch the eye of a broody bachelor with rental connections.”
My face gets warm at the mention of Ridge, but I don’t allow myself to focus on him. Instead, I create a mental list of things to get for my new home. There isn’t much thanks to the owner providing everything except what I chose to put in this room. For whatever reason, this space was left completely untouched. Which makes it glaringly obvious that these are my belongings. The few items I own are in bad shape. I’m grateful to have the dresser and nightstand that I found for free, but the two pieces appear seconds away from disrepair.
It might be wise for me to begin there.
“Is bedroom furniture expensive? Like a matching set?”
“Depends on where you’re shopping,” Harper says. “You have money saved, right?”
“Not enough.” Besides, that stash is for emergencies only.
She rocks on her bare feet. “Take on more shifts at the groomers. You’re closer to Main Street now. The walk is only a few blocks.”
I nod. “Yeah, that’s a smart idea. It shouldn’t take me nearly as long to get there.”
“Or you could ask someone for a ride.”Her thumb points at the shared wall.
“Ridge? Oh, no. I couldn’t impose. He’s too busy.”
As if hearing his name, a telltale chirp draws my gaze downward. A message appears in our thread that I still have open on the screen. I’d already been smiling, but the expression hits comical proportions with his words.
Ridge:how’s it going over there? all settled in?
The relief I feel is equally ridiculous compared to my former distress. I begin typing a respond instead of overanalyzing the reaction.
Me:Hello, Ridge. How’s your evening? It’s very considerate of you to check in on my progress. We’re done moving my belongings inside. It wasn’t too difficult, but I’m glad to be done. I still have some rearranging to do. That might be a job for tomorrow. Guess what? Harper and I were just discussing the texting pattern between you and me. Have you ever messaged me first? Like after we’ve stopped writing and haven’t started again. I can’t remember. She told me to wait until you did. I suppose that was good advice since you did text me just now. I’ll admit that I had my doubts. It makes me smile to think you must like our conversations. At least I hope you do. You must enjoy them somewhat to continue responding. Not to mention initiating contact. When I was worried about not hearing from you, I got very sad. I believe I’m growing quite attached to you already, just like Harper said I would. Is that okay? I don’t ever want to become a bother, as I’ve mentioned previously. Probably too many times. It’s an ongoing concern if that isn’t obvious. Maybe that’s enough from me for now. I look forward to your reply, Ridge.—Callie
“Is that him? It’s like we summoned him or something.” Harper approaches from over my shoulder and reads what I just sent. “Dude! You’re not supposed to tell him all that.”
My attention leaps off the screen to collide with her logic. “I’m not?”
She shakes her head. “Also, you don’t have to greet him each time or sign your name at the end.”
“Oh.” I frown at my recent reply. “Do I look foolish?”
“Nah, he probably loves it. But you can save yourself time by cutting out the formality. Unless it’s your first message that day or in a new exchange. It’s like I told you when we first started chatting.” Her grin is probably meant to be reassuring.
Confusion swirls into a thick fog. “But that’s just your preference. Plus, you’re my friend. He’s a man. I want to make sure he knows I’m polite.”
“Trust me, babes. He knows.”
The oxygen in my lungs turns to stone and I wheeze. “Did you tell him—?”
Harper eyes widen. “No, no. Your secrets aren’t mine to spill. But I told him just enough to explain that he needs to play a slow game.”
I furrow my brow. “Such as?”
“That he should be careful with you”—she holds up a palm when I try to interrupt—“as in take things slow and be gentle. I wanted him to give you time to adjust. He’s being patient on purpose. When you’re ready for more, he’ll be there. You control the situation.”
That final statement stands out in bold. “I have control?”
“Yes. It’s yours.”
“Wow.” That concept will take some getting used to. “I have so much to learn.”
“Don’t worry too much about it. Most of this is just general dating rules that don’t apply in your case.”
I blanch. “Dating?”
“Um, yeah. What else do you call this?” She motions to the ongoing thread in my phone.
“We’re not dating.”
“Ridge might think otherwise.”
“But he hasn’t expressed a romantic interest in me.” Or maybe he has.
Once again, I’m out of my depth. Where I come from, there are no dates prior to an arrangement for marriage. I’m aware that’s not how relationships are formed in Knox Creek, or most societies in this country for that matter. Even before fleeing Billmoore, I knew our customs weren’t typical. To experience the divide is another rude awakening entirely.
The differences are staggering and have taken me the better part of a year to understand. To this day, it’s difficult for me to comprehend Ridge’s attentiveness as anything other than civil conversation. That means it’s very likely he shows this common courtesy to others as well.
“What if he’s dating someone else?” My voice holds a brittle edge.
Harper snorts, which becomes a choked cackle. “That’s the funniest thing you’ve ever said.”
“I didn’t tell a joke.”
“Maybe not on purpose,” she giggles. “But you must be kidding. That man is already faithfully devoted to you. He even goes out of his way to avoid female customers at the bar.”
“Really?” The idea clouds my judgment.
“Yes.” Her tone leaves no space for argument.
“But we’ve never spoken about a mutual attraction to each other. Or having a date for that matter,” I add after regaining clarity from my stupor.
“Ask him.”
“About what?”
“Going on a date,” Harper states casually. She’s so at ease with this discussion. Just another variation in how we were raised.
Meanwhile, I feel sweat beading along my hairline. “Do you think he’ll ask me out for a date?”
“Or you could ask him on one.”
A gasp wrenches from me. “I can’t do that.”
“You certainly can. We’re fortunate to be in the modern age. Women are very capable of ruling the roost. Be empowered.” She shakes her fist.
My head is spinning as usual whenever we get on the subject of men. I stumble toward the bed, barely catching myself on the edge. “Oh, my.”
“Welp, my work here is done.” She brushes her hands together. “Gonna get a rub down from Jerky Jacob.”
“Huh?” I barely hear her over the brewing chaos in my mind.
“That massage I mentioned,” she clarifies while shaking her hips. “And then some.”
Even my sheltered awareness can gather her meaning. “You’re bad.”
“Eh, a little debauchery is good for the soul.” My friend saunters to the door, but peeks back at me before leaving. “Better answer him before he comes over here.”
“What?” I glance down and notice several messages I’ve missed from Ridge flashing on the screen.
With the pressure from the dating topic, I’d forgotten to reply. That’s a first.
Ridge:glad you’re over there. things will be easier now. and thx for telling me you want to hear from me more often. I’ll be texting you first thing each morning. might as well since you’re my every waking thought
Ridge:that might’ve been the longest text I ever sent someone
Ridge:did I shock you into silence with that? hope it wasn’t too much
Ridge:sweetness?
Ridge:callie. gonna need a reply soon
My jaw hangs slack. “He sent me five consecutive messages. That’s a big deal, right?”
But Harper is gone, and I’m talking to an empty room. That gives me the freedom to return his messages without being rude. Not that her presence would stop me.
Me:Apologies for the delay. Harper just left. I’m glad you’ll text me every morning. That sounds like a lovely start to each day.
I assume his response will take a few minutes. When my phone pings within seconds, my breath catches.
Ridge:what’s wrong?
Me:With what? I’m very happy in this house. Didn’t I tell you that?
Ridge:you’re not giving me all of your words like usual
Me:That doesn’t mean there’s anything wrong. I’m trying to keep my messages short.
Ridge:why?
Me:Harper told me I should be more concise.
Ridge:didn’t I tell you the opposite?
I scroll through our previous messages to recall what he actually said.
Me:You told me not to hold back. That you want to hear the good and the bad. Whatever is running through my mind.
Ridge:sounds like the opposite of concise to me. lay it all on me, sweetness. our conversations are the best part of my day
Nerves bubble to the surface as I consider where to begin. The possibilities are endless. I can’t ask him on a date. That feels too personal and inappropriate. It would be nice to become better acquainted. I suppose asking questions is the easiest option to accomplish that. My phone dings while the freedom to choose continues tripping through me.
Ridge:did I lose you again?
Me:No, I’m here. I’m just thinking about what to say.
Ridge:that didn’t seem like a problem before
Me:Okay, I’ll just write everything that decides to flood forward. It just felt like too much pressure suddenly. Like I was put on the spot. Does that make sense? Then I froze and didn’t say anything, which led to you believing I was ignoring you. Again. Although, to be fair, I wasn’t really ignoring you before. Not on purpose. Harper and I were talking about something kind of serious, at least for me. The topic distracted me to the point that I didn’t see you had sent so many messages. It wasn’t my intention to make you worry or wonder why I’m not responding. Not that I’m assuming you were worried. That’s something I would do if you stopped replying to me. Worry, I mean. You’ve probably figured that out about me. I’d like to know more about you, if that’s all right. Can I ask you questions?
I sigh as my message is sent. It feels as if a weight as been lifted off my chest. Maybe I should follow Ridge’s advice and allow my words to flow freely. At least when I message him. He seems to prefer my lengthy responses. A text arrives to mark that assumption as fact.
Ridge:there we go. that’s much better. I like it when you let go and speak your mind. that includes asking me anything
Me:Thanks for embracing my rambling. Your support means a lot to me. I’m still adjusting to this way of life. You’re already helping me. In more ways than one. There’s usually a desperate urgency inside of me that’s clawing to escape. Maybe that’s why I write so much. It just pours out. All right, now for a question. Do you like animals?
Ridge:first, knowing that I’m helping you does crazy things to me. I enjoy seeing that spelled out in your words. a lot. I appreciate you telling me. maybe one day you’ll share where this urgency comes from. second, I love animals. who doesn’t?
Me:I’m glad you enjoy my words. There are plenty of people I used to know who didn’t like animals. Where I grew up is very different from here. My voice wasn’t heard, if that makes sense. I think that’s why I have this sudden urgency to speak when there’s a chance.
Ridge:your voice will always be heard by me. that’s a promise
Me:This might be too trusting of me, but I believe you. I can tell you’re different from the rest. Maybe one day you’ll explain what these crazy things are that you’re referring to.
Ridge:I’d rather show you, sweetness. when you’re ready
A flush rushes under my skin and I’m burning from curiosity. The unknown makes me squirm. There’s a strange sensation warming in my belly. I wonder what will happen if he says more things like that. Perhaps I’ll catch a fever.
Ridge:that was too much, huh? I can practically hear you tossing and turning
I stop fidgeting, only to realize that I’ve reclined onto the bed at some point. His words remind me of an earlier thought that occurred to me.
Me:Are the walls thin? I’m certain your statement is purely fiction, but now I want to know if you can hear me from your home.
Ridge:do you hear that?
I strain my ears, but there’s no sound other than my rapid pulse.
Me:No. Should I hear something?
Ridge:I’m pounding on the wall
Me:Well, it seems we’ve settled that the walls aren’t thin.
Ridge:how unfortunate
Me:Why is that?
Ridge:I wouldn’t mind listening to your voice
Ridge:is that creepy? didn’t think before I sent it
My belly swoops and dives in an impressive acrobatic routine. As the tumble sequence settles, I gather the courage to respond.
Me:I wouldn’t mind listening to your voice either.
Ridge:damn, sweetness. probably shouldn’t have told me that. now I won’t be able to stop picturing my name falling from your lips. it’s taking an unholy amount of restraint to stay put and not come knocking on your door.
Me:Oh! I’m about to abruptly change the subject. Does that make me rude? I really hope you don’t think I’m being rude. You just reminded me that I want to paint my door. Do you think the owner would mind?
Ridge:if anyone’s rude, it’s me. it’s for the best that we talk about something else. what color do you wanna paint it?
Me:I think green would look nice. A bright spot against the neutral siding. What do you think?
Ridge:that suits you
Me:Really? Do you think the owner will allow me to do it?
Ridge:consider it approved
Me:Just like that?
Ridge:yeah, sweetness. just like that
Me:How can you be so sure?
Ridge:you’ll see. until then, I’m ready for another question