Chapter Eleven
Posey
“What’re you kids doin’?” Dad asks, his gaze shifting from me hanging upside down to Silas’s face.
He sets me on my feet, and I fix my shirt that rode up. “I took him ridin’ and was tryin’ to convince him to let me drive his truck back home.”
“It’s a manual,” Silas explains. “And not in the best condition as it is, and since she wouldn’t get out of the driver’s seat, I had to carry her out.”
“I can drive a manual!” I argue. “Even your crappy Toyota.”
“Ouch.” Silas smacks a palm to his chest. “Now you definitely aren’t drivin’ Brittany.”
I roll my eyes. “Of course you named it.”
Dad chuckles, shrugging. “Most guys do.”
“You even gave it a basic bitch girl name to go with your pumpkin spice creamer.” I shake my head. “And that’s why you aren’t a cowboy.”
Silas yanks my hat off my head and places it on his. “I beg to differ. I rode your death horse and lived to tell the tale.”
“Death horse?” Dad’s eyes narrow. “Which one was that?”
“Priest. Nearly killed me when he wouldn’t stop runnin’,” Silas explains.
“He’s being dramatic…” I jump up on my tiptoes to steal my hat back although he looked good in it. “There’s not a scratch on ya, so quit being a baby.”
Dad’s gaze pingpongs between Silas and me.
“I rode up next to Priest and slowed him down before Silas could get thrown. He’s fine,” I reassure.
“Traumatized,” Silas corrects, jumping into the driver’s seat before I can again.
Dad snorts, then walks with me to the passenger side after Silas gets in the driver’s seat.
“Y’all are gettin’ along well, I see.”
His questioning tone and raised brows are met with suspicion.
“We’re just friends, Dad.”
“Good, ’cause I’d hate to have to fire ya.”
“Me? What about him?”
“You’re supposed to know better being the boss’s daughter. It’d create a power imbalance.”
“You’d fire your own daughter?” I cross my arms, challenging him to say the words. Mom would never allow him to anyway.
“I’d fire anyone who violates the employee relations policy.”
I can’t tell if he’s joking or not.
He opens the door for me and nods toward Silas. “Have a good night, kids.”
“Night, Dad.”
He winks before closing it.
“Everythin’ okay?” Silas asks, one hand on the wheel while the other rests on the gear stick.
“Actually, no.” I buckle myself in. “After I confirmed that nothing’s goin’ on between us, he said if there were, he’d fire me but not you.”
He barks out a hearty laugh, shifting into first and driving onto the gravel road.
“I doubt it. You could sleep with all the employees at the farm and he wouldn’t fire ya.”
“Excuse me?” I smack his shoulder.
“Not sayin’ you would.”
“Well, if I’m gettin’ fired, then so are you.” I pout, folding my arms across my chest. “Otherwise it’d be sexist and I’d sue for wrongful termination.”
“You know you’re gettin’ upset about a fake scenario where we’re secretly sleepin’ together, right? After we’ve already made it clear that’s not happenin’?”
He chuckles again and I find it hard not to laugh with him.
“Okay, yes…but it’s the principle of it. Say we were shackin’ up. Why am I the only one who gets in trouble?”
“How ‘bout this? I’ll quit before anyone finds out. Then you get to keep your job and no one’s in trouble.”
“I know you’re only tryin’ to amuse me right now.”
“Is it workin’?” He waggles his brows and flashes a wickedly handsome grin.
“No!” I can’t help laughing because it absolutely is. “You need this job, though.”
And I’m admittedly warming up to him to where I wouldn’t want him to be unemployed because of me.
“I’m sure I could find a new one in this hypothetical situation.”
“I’m sure Michelle could get you a job at that boots and flannel boutique,” I deadpan.
“Is that snark I detect in your tone?” He pulls up to the house and parks.
“Nope. Total legit option.” I grab the handle, but his next words stop me.
“Really? You want the person you’re sleepin’ with to work at a boutique with a bunch of hot women?”
“And now we’re broken up.” I jump out of the truck, slamming the door behind me.
Silas’s laughter echoes through the air as he follows me up the staircase of the deck.
“Posey…” He stands directly behind me while I fight with the key to unlock the door.
His deep gravelly voice sends shivers down my spine but then he leans in and brushes his lips against my ear, sending my heart into overdrive. “C’mon, let’s make up. We can’t have our fictional relationship end. Marjorie won’t like it.”
It’s impossible to stay pretend-mad when he’s playing the role so perfectly.
“I dunno…perhaps you need a night on the couch,” I taunt, walking through the doorway, but he grabs my arm and spins me around until my back plasters against the wood.
“Is that anyway to end our date?” he quips, tilting my chin to meet his humorous gaze.
I furrow my brows, lowering my eyes to his mouth when he licks his lower lip. “I never called this a date.”
“Are we back to roommates now? Or—” He arches a brow, clearly unfazed by my antics.
“You think I’m insane, don’t ya?”
He smirks, releasing his hold but stays close. “Nah, you’re perfectly weird in your own way—a cowgirl who makes goat soap, has a house ghost, and hates flavored creamer.”
“And makes up fake relationship scenarios ’cause I can’t get a real date.”
“You will, Posey.” He steps back so I can shut the door. “We have that double date this weekend. Aren’t you excited?”
Not really.
“Yeah, I guess.” I set my hat down and go to the kitchen to make something to eat.
Once I have my sandwich and a yogurt parfait, I sit on the couch and go through my texts.
Jamie
We have reservations at six for Mauricino’s! I’m so excited!
Posey
Sounds good! Can’t wait :)
I wish I was as excited as she is, but it’ll be nice to get out for the evening.
Jamie and I haven’t texted a lot since I worked all day and then went horseback riding, so we’re still getting to know each other. Jackson texted me once this morning but I never got the chance to respond.
Jackson
Looking forward to seeing you on Saturday! Hopefully, we can chat on the phone before then. I’ll be working for the next forty-eight hours but we can text when we aren’t out on a call.
Posey
Hey! Sorry for not replying sooner. I had a busy day at work, but I’m home now. How’s work going?
Jackson
No problem. It’s been good. Went out on three calls so far and now we’re working on shit.
Posey
I thought you only worked twenty-four hour shifts?
Jackson
I had to switch so I could get Saturday off, but it’s no big deal. I’ll sleep Thursday and Friday nights.
“Jamie told me this Italian restaurant is pretty fancy. Should I dress up?” Silas sits on the couch next to me with a plateful of pasta.
“Black slacks and a button-up will be fine,” I tell him. “But I guess that means I gotta wear a dress.”
“If I gotta dress up, then so do you.” He smirks before shoving more food into his mouth.
I almost ask him if this is getting too weird that we’re going on a double date with other people and both don’t seem too excited about it.
But I don’t since he needs this. Aundrea really fucked up his head about with how she treated him and skewing his belief on what he deserves.
So if I have to tag along for one awkward night, I’ll do it.
“Crap, my phone just died in the middle of respondin’ to her text.” Silas tries to restart it. “It wasn’t even on red.”
“That’s strange. I’ll text her so she knows you aren’t ignorin’ her.” I grab my phone but my screen goes black. “What the hell?”
“Yours died too?”
The TV changes shows without either of us touching the remote.
“Okay, what the fuck is goin’ on?” Silas glances around, setting his plate on the coffee table. “This is a little too freaky for me.”
“I’m not sure…Marjorie?”
“Oh please don’t tell me your house ghost is doin’ this?”
“She might be.”
“There has to be another explanation.” He stands, panicking while he grabs the remote and changes it back to the show I was watching.
“Maybe she’s still not used to you being here.”
“It’s been a week. Why wouldn’t she?”
“I dunno…” I shrug, continuing to eat my food. There’s no anxiety streaming through me so I don’t think she has bad intentions in whatever she’s trying to tell us. “Maybe she didn’t want us textin’ ’em back for whatever reason.”
“That—” He brushes a hand through his hair, looking flustered as he rubs over his jawline next. “That’d be ridiculous, Posey. Spirits don’t have that kind of power to drain phone batteries and control TV remotes.”
“How do you know? The sooner you accept she’s real, the easier it’ll be to understand why she does the things she does.”
He pinches the bridge of his nose and sits. “I’m not sayin’ it was her, but I’m not not sayin’ it wasn’t.”
I chuckle, amused with how flustered he sounds. “You’re gonna make her wanna prove herself even more now.”
It’s just after six in the morning when my phone vibrates with a call from Mila.
I usually keep my phone on silent, but she’s on my list of people who can get through to me in case of an emergency. She sounds awful as she tells me she’s come down with something and can’t run the yoga class so she needs me to do it.
“Silas…” I poke his bicep, hoping not to startle him too badly. “Silas, wake up.”
“Posey?”
“No, it’s your house ghost, Marjorie. Get up before I slaughter you into a million tiny pieces and feed you to the goats.”
His eyes pop open, and I grin at his adorable sleepy face.
“You’re such a weirdo,” he grumbles.
“Hey, you said you liked my weirdness.”
“Don’t recall that.” He yanks the sheet up but I quickly pull it back, revealing his bare chest and boxer briefs.
“Don’t make me bring Teddy in here to wake you.”
“Your rat? Hell no.”
“Then get up. Mila’s out sick, so we gotta teach the yoga class today.”
“Huh? We?”
He tries reaching for the lamp on his nightstand to turn it off, but I smack his hand away.
“My alarm hasn’t gone off yet. Go away.”
“We gotta get the goats on the trailer and out there by seven. It’s too last minute to cancel. Plus, it’s a packed class.”