Chapter 4
Chapter Four
HARLAN
Standing at Lola-Mae’s desk, I look around, unsure of what to do. In just a week, she’s gotten this place up and running better than I ever could have imagined. I daresay she’s running it better than my mother.
It’s Saturday morning, and I thought about asking her if she wanted to go to breakfast, but it feels weird. Everything does—or maybe it’s me who feels weird. I would venture to guess it’s me.
But weird or shy, whatever the case may be, I can’t just do nothing. I also can’t just put myself out there. So instead, I grab a lime-green sticky notepad, the same one I wrote my cell number on at the beginning of the week.
Taking the pen out of the holder, I lean over, place my opposite palm on the warm wooden surface, and I begin to write… and draw.
I draw a stick figure with a cowboy hat. It looks like shit, but it’s what I’ve got going on right now. And the note—it’s a scribble—written in what I commonly call my personal chicken scratch.
Seeing you through the window makes me ache to press you against the glass.
-Cowboy
It’s the most daring thing I’ve ever actually written on paper. I start to pull it off the notepad to throw away. What a stupid idea. My phone buzzes in my pocket, and I take it out, looking down at the screen.
Sliding my thumb across the screen, I touch the speaker icon. “Cooper,” I bark.
He chuckles, though I’m not sure why. Turning away from the desk, I begin to pace in the office.
“I’m sitting here at the Yellow Rose, and a pretty little thing just walked in.
Long dark hair, short, curves. Overheard her say that she’s working down at your place.
And I thought to myself, no way did grumpy-as-fuck Harlan Blackmoore hire this sexy little thing to not only work in his office, but to live just a few yards from him. ”
“She’s just my secretary,” I grind out. “I didn’t know what she looked like when I hired her.”
Unable to stay in the office, I let my feet carry me outside and toward the barn. I need to ride. Just knowing that this asshole is watching her, looking at her… seeing her. But I can’t say anything.
What if she wants his eyes on her?
If she does, then there’s nothing I could ever do to shift that sensation. I’m not a man who knows much about relationships. Who knows much about women in general.
I can’t imagine what I could offer her that Beckett Cooper can’t. He’s got three brothers and a ranch double the size of mine. He’s also not a recluse who prefers the company of his cattle over people.
LOLA-MAE
The Yellow Rose reminds me of home. It’s an odd sensation, to be in the same state but feel like I’m in a whole new world. Everything here is different, not just the town but the landscape, the people, and the food. But this greasy spoon is exactly what I needed.
I can feel some eyes on me as I take my card out to pay for my breakfast. And before I can set it down on the little plastic tray, a shadow is standing in front of me. Slowly, I lift my head, my eyes dragging up the entire length of the man standing in front of me.
He’s gorgeous.
Wearing jeans, a pearl snap button shirt, and a straw cowboy hat. He’s clean-shaven with a sharp jawline that almost looks as if it were carved from stone and piercing blue eyes. He looks like a cowboy from a movie.
His lips pull up at the corners into a small smile, then he winks, and I think my panties melt a little. He’s too beautiful, though. My eyes almost hurt.
“Beckett Cooper,” he announces.
I blink, then watch as he sinks down in front of me. I’m frozen with my card in my hand, unsure of what to say. Then I watch as he lifts his hand and motions for someone to come over. Before my brain registers what’s happening, I watch as he puts his own card down.
“You don’t have to do that,” I blurt out.
He chuckles. “I know I don’t. I just wanted to welcome you to Granite Falls.”
“You did?” I ask.
He hums. “I own Cooper Ranch,” he murmurs. “Know Harlan, grew up with him. We’re a tight-knit community, so I wanted to be hospitable.”
Wow.
His words are innocent enough, but I can see there is something else lingering just beneath his smile, something predatory. I can’t help but wonder if there is something else at play here.
“I’m Lola-Mae,” I murmur.
I watch as the waitress returns the bill and card, then Beckett signs the slip of paper before sliding his card back into his wallet.
His gaze flicks to meet mine again, and again he gives me a small wink.
His lips twitch into a smirk as he glides out from the booth and stands beside the table again.
“You ever need anything, just ask. I’ll be seeing you around. Welcome to town, Lola-Mae,” he murmurs before he turns and walks out of the diner.
I stare at his retreating form for long enough that the waitress appears again. “He’s beautiful, but he’s a player, girl.”
Tearing my gaze from the empty doorway, I look up, my eyes meeting hers. She’s pretty. Tall, thin, and blonde, the exact opposite of me in every way, shape, or form. She looks like a little country girl from all the music videos. All she’d need is a pair of Daisy Dukes to complete the look.
“He is?” I ask.
She hums. “I’m Maisie. I couldn’t help but overhear that you’re new in town.
Welcome,” she says before placing a piece of paper down.
“That’s my number. The nightlife isn’t super exciting here, but a couple of the girls and I go out every now and then.
We’re going out tonight, if you’d like to join us. ”
Thanking her, I promise to give her a text later.
However, I have no intention of going anywhere tonight.
I don’t tell her that, though, mainly because I might want to go next time.
I’m not someone who goes out a lot, but I don’t know anyone here, and since she’s being so welcoming, I don’t want to shirk that and ruin a chance at finding some friends.