Broody Silent Farm Boy Thing
Ashton
You know.
No, she doesn’t know. She has no fucking clue.
But I do.
Watching Jordy fall in love with my child has shattered me in the most unexpected way. Honestly, it’s like I’d been blasted apart, and I have no idea how to put myself back together. I’m falling for her, fast and hard. It’s safe to say I’ve never felt this way before. Not for Sasha. Not for anyone.
But for Jordy, I suddenly have this image of her in our home, our bed, her stuff in our closet. Fucking her slowly every night, and waking up to her every morning.
I want it all.
It’s not just about wanting her body—though god knows I do. It was the way Lottie nestled under her chin as we stood near the cows, how Jordy brushed her hand over my daughter’s back, protecting her from the world, how carefully she carried her to her room at naptime.
And the look on her face as she closed the door.
Pure love.
Fuck, if I don’t feel it too.
I think about this the whole drive into town. I wanted nothing more than to stay back at the house with Jordy. But I knew if I did, there was nothing stopping me from rushing across that room and pressing her against a wall as I tasted every inch of her.
I had to leave.
And here in my truck, I feel every single breath in my lungs as I try to stop obsessing about her.
And fail.
Is it real? Or am I just grateful to her?
No, it’s so much deeper, and I’m running out of reasons to put on the brakes.
I manage to pull myself together once I reach the feed store. Jordy is still on my mind—that woman is always on my mind—but I’m able to at least put one foot in front of the other as I order the supplements we’re running low on.
“How’s that little girl of yours,” Paul asks as he fills the order. “You should bring her by next week. We have some eggs about to hatch, and I think she’d get a kick out of all the chicks.”
“Oh, I know she would,” I say. But in my head, I’m thinking how Jordy would love that too. Has she ever held a baby chick before? It might freak her out, but maybe she’d get a kick out of it.
Pull it together, Ashton.
“Next week, you say? I’ll bring her by.”
I put the supplies in the truck, but I don’t want to go home yet. I don’t trust myself, not yet at least. Besides, Jordy probably wants a little more time with Lottie before I take over.
At least, that’s what I tell myself. My head feels screwed on sideways, and I’m unsure what the fuck I’m supposed to be doing right now.
Figuring coffee might help, I slip into Java Joe’s and order a drip. Then I find a table in the back away from the noise, just so I can sit in silence and wait until my mind feels clear again.
“You’re doing that broody-silent-farm-boy thing again.”
I look up, and there’s Michael, who sets his coffee on the table and takes the seat across from me. I’m in no mood to visit, but I nod at him anyway.
“Good morning to you too.”
“Oh man, you’ve got it bad.”
I level a look at him. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Really? Because she’s written all over your face.”
Jordy. Fuck.
I look out the window again, neither confirming nor denying. But then I realize Michael spent a whole evening with Jordy. Knowing his prying nature, I’m dying to know what they talked about.
“You’re going to have to be more specific,” I say, praying he’ll stop with the riddles and just spell out whatever he’s hinting at.
“Nice try.” He takes a sip from his mocha, then eyes me. “Why don’t you tell me what’s putting you in such a foul mood. You’d think you’d be happy.”
I tilt my head. “And why would I be happy?”
Michael purses his lips, then raises his eyebrows. Then he says NOTHING.
Fuck, this game is getting old.
We both sit in silence for a while, just sipping our coffee and staring out the window. I’m ready to cave, to tell him everything. He knows something and isn’t telling me.
I hold my breath as I swallow every word that bubbles into my throat.
Finally, I blurt out, “She’s driving me crazy” at the same time that he says, “You know she has a thing for you.”
“Wait.” I gape at him. “What?”
“She’s driving you crazy?” He appears wounded, his hand at his chest like I’ve stabbed him.
“No, not like that.” I shake my head. “I can’t stop thinking about her.
She’s in my house, and it’s like I miss her when she’s right in front of me.
And today, she was holding my child and all I could think of was how I wanted this in my life forever.
Her. Me. My daughter. The three of us as a family.
Even as I feel like I’m falling apart, I’m also very aware that this is not real.
She’s been in my house for not even two weeks.
I don’t know her favorite color, her mother’s name, or what her middle name is. ”
“Her mom’s name is Lillian, and Jordy’s middle name is Danielle, which I assume is for her father Dan. Her favorite color … no clue.”
“How the fuck do you know that?”
Michael peers at me. “Dude, Google is your friend. You should cyber stalk anyone you take in like a stray.”
I roll my eyes, even as I know he has a point.
“So, are you going to let her know how you feel so you can stop the brooding?”
I shake my head. “What’s the point? She’s almost done with this job. In a couple weeks, she’s headed back to New York. My whole life is here, and hers is there. There’s no way I can make a long-distance thing work, not with Lottie and the farm.”
“And you’ve discussed this with her?”
I huff. “Come on, man. You of all people know I can’t.”
Michael sits back in his chair. “Me of all people. And why is that?”
I can see I’ve offended him, but I’m not willing to back down. “Yes, you of all people. I don’t see you out there on the dating scene anymore, not after Dominic fucked you over the way he did.”
He looks out the window, his usual self-righteousness stripped from his face, a somber expression in its place.
“Fucking asshole exes,” he mutters. Then he looks at me with a small smile.
“Okay. So you’re being cautious so you don’t get hurt.
But what if you’re missing out on what could be the best thing in your life?
You don’t even know where her head is at. ”
“And I suppose you do?”
He winks. “I’ve already said too much. You need to figure this one out on your own. But here’s a hint: If you wait too long, you’re going to regret it for the rest of your life.”
“And you know this because…”
He sighs. “Because I am a student of people, and I know my subject.”
“Meaning you’re a busybody who’s up in everyone’s business.” I raise my eyebrows, and he grins.
“Same diff.”
My mind goes a million miles a minute as I make the drive home, and not all of it is from the caffeine.
I keep going back and forth on what to do.
Tell Jordy how I feel and make the most of what little time we had left?
Hope that she considers a permanent residence in Lahoma Springs?
Or just remain quiet and let her go, hoping I can eventually forget her?
By the time I reach the gravel drive, my heart is pounding with my decision.
I have to tell her. I have to at least let her be a part of the conversation I keep having in my head. If what Michael said was true, that she actually likes me, it’s not fair for me to shut things down without giving her the chance to choose.
I open the door and am about to call out to her, but I can hear her in the bedroom on the phone, and I don’t want to disturb her in case it’s her work.
I peek in on Lottie, but she’s not in the crib.
It’s way past her naptime anyway. She’s probably with Jordy.
I head toward the back room to relieve Jordy of babysitting duties.
But as I approach the door, the conversation leaps out at me.
“We’re from two different worlds. It would never work.”
I step back, knowing I should leave, but unable to move my feet.
“You’re not listening, Mom, I’m not even interested in him.”
It can’t be me she’s talking about. But could it? I don’t actually know about her day-to-day life. Could she be talking about someone else?
“Yeah, I’ve been here two weeks now. He’s been really generous, and it might be because he wants more.
But I don’t think of him that way.” She laughs.
“It’s actually kind of annoying, if I’m being honest. He keeps hinting, and I have to keep dodging, but politely so I can keep a roof over my head.
” Another pause, and my heart is pounding.
“Yeah, the money is an issue. We’re completely unmatched. ”
I think back to the gallery. How she moved away when I reached for her hand. How she bought all four of Grace’s paintings for a total of $4,000, as if it was nothing to her.
Meanwhile, I’m paying less than market rate for this tiny house, living on my ex’s property, and staying frugal just so I can save for Lottie’s future. I don’t have $4,000 to drop on art, let alone anything else.
I don’t want to hear the rest of the conversation. I start to leave, but then I hear Lottie squeal, “Daddy!” through the crack in the door. I can see her straining in Jordy’s arms. Jordy turns, a look of surprise on her face.
“Mom, I have to go.”
I ease the door open, and the look on her face is pure guilt. But I smile, pretending I heard nothing.
“There’s my girl,” I say, scooping Lottie up as she giggles. “Thanks for watching her.”
“Anytime.” Jordy gets up, smoothing her shirt out. It’s obvious she’s uncomfortable. “Hey, you want to grab dinner or something? We could see if Bec and Bob can watch Lottie so that we can get out, or she can even come with us.”
“Nah.” I head to the door. “I think Lottie and I are going to hang with Trash Truck on TV, then have some mac and cheese for dinner. But you’re free to go out if you want. I’m sure Grace or Michael would love to spend time with you.”
I try not to look at her as I leave the room, but she follows, and I can’t help glancing in her direction. Her face looks confused. Disappointed.
“I can’t,” she says. “My car is still downtown.”
Fuck. I forgot.
“Borrow the truck,” I say, pulling the keys from my pocket. I aim to toss them to her, but she shakes her head.
“No, it’s fine. I’ll just…” She looks back at the bedroom. “I guess I’ll just hang in the bedroom and read.”
She stalls for a little longer, lingering as I sit on the couch and picked up the remote. I can’t fend off the guilt that settles in my belly.
“Should I save you some macaroni?” I finally ask, looking over my shoulder.
“Nah.” She hesitates, then says, “I’ve been eating too many carbs anyway. Just because I’m stuck here doesn’t mean I need to let myself go.”
The bedroom door clicks shut.
And the sound of it echoes through me like a roll of thunder. Like the moment a storm is no longer coming—it’s already here.
I stare at the wall where her jellyfish painting hangs crooked, and this time, I can’t laugh at it. All I see is the moment it slipped from her hands. Almost like it had been trying to tell me something.
It’s never going to hold.
Not the painting. Not us.