Chapter 9
Chapter Nine
LOLA-MAE
Sexual frustration is a new sensation to me. Not that I’m throwing myself out into the world like that on a regular basis, but I’ve never wanted someone as badly as I want this grumpy cowboy in my life. I can’t keep Harlan out of my head. He consumes my every waking thought, every single day.
I’m only on week two, and I’m about ready to lose my mind. I don’t know how I’ll be able to continue this way. I’m either going to actually combust, or I’m going to physically assault him. Either situation is not a good one and will result in me being fired and likely going to jail.
Walking into the office, I pause at the entrance.
Something is off, not in a bad way, but in a…
someone-has-been-here way. Taking my phone out of my back pocket, I glance at the screen, but there are no messages, not that there would be, but maybe Harlan came in here and left me a text about something he needed?
But there’s nothing.
I even, stupidly, glance at my desk to see if there is some kind of breakfast snack waiting for me. There isn’t. Although just thinking about breakfast causes my stomach to grumble and a stab of pain.
I should have eaten a breakfast taco or something before I walked over.
Shaking off the thoughts, the rumblings, I close the door behind me and continue toward my desk.
I place my phone on the small charging pad and power on my computer, seeing the little sticky note from the other day still in place, which makes a smile play on my lips.
I am moving things around on my desk to get started for the day when I pause at the sight of the sticky pad. It’s moved again, and there’s another little note, with a poorly-drawn stick figure horse.
You’re my favorite daydream. And fantasy.
-Cowboy
Okay.
This can’t be explained away as someone else having left it behind. This is him. Harlan. He’s left me a note. It has to be him. Nobody else has been here that I know of. I trace the letters with my index finger. He’s my favorite daydream, too. And my only fantasy.
Reaching for my phone, I find Shandy’s name. I have to tell her what just happened and get her opinion. I know she’s going to advise me to throw caution to the wind. I just don’t know exactly how to do that, or what to do.
Shandy is the only wild person I know. And she’s someone who will give me sound advice that won’t completely embarrass every fiber of my being, something I don’t need any help with. I can embarrass myself just fine without help.
The phone only rings once before I’m met with her smiling face. “Have you slept with the sexy cowboy yet?”
“I need help,” I hiss.
I don’t know if he’s here in the house or out with his cattle. I haven’t seen him this morning, so I try not to speak too loudly. The last thing I need is for him to overhear any part of this.
“What do you need?” she whispers back.
Leaning forward, I tell her about the notes, making sure to show her said notes, including the drawings. Her eyes widen, then her lips slowly curve up into a smile, a diabolical smile at that.
“You have no choice but to throw yourself at him.”
“I have no choice?” I ask.
“Absolutely none.”
HARLAN
I steer clear of the office the entire day. No doubt she’s found my note. I’m embarrassed as fuck about it. I can’t believe I really left it there like that. I shouldn’t have. I should have thrown it in the trash, along with the other one.
When the sun begins to set, I guide my horse home. She’s been a little restless, no doubt because I’ve kept her out past her bedtime. We’re both usually finished with our day before the sun sets, and she’s in the barn while I’m in the house. In truth, like me, she’s probably hungry as well.
It doesn’t take me long to get her fed and watered, then brush her a bit before checking on the rest of the barn and closing it down for the night. I look around the property, my eyes scanning the grounds, finding their way to Lola-Mae’s instantly.
Like a beacon, everything about her screams to me. But her house appears to be vacant. Not a single light shines through anywhere inside. Her car is in the driveway, so I’m pretty sure she hasn’t gone anywhere.
As much as I try to ignore her comings and goings, I can’t seem to do that. I’m hyperfocused on her and making a gigantic fool of myself as the days go by. Why don’t I just ask her out? Or maybe ask someone else out.
When I step into the house, I shake off the idea of asking someone else out. Not only would I not have anyone else to ask, but I also don’t want to go anywhere or do anything with anyone other than her.
The house is dark and quiet, just the way I left it. Except when I step into the kitchen, it’s not dark, and it’s not quiet. In fact, there is music playing—nineties country—and a woman’s voice is singing along.
Leaning my shoulder against the doorway, I stare at her, unable to move… I’m not even sure I can breathe. Lola-Mae’s dark hair is pulled up and swirled on top of her head. She’s wearing a pair of cutoff shorts so short that a bit of her ass cheeks are hanging out at the bottom.
It’s hot as fuck.
She turns her head, her eyes find mine, and her lips curve up into a small smile. “Hey,” she exhales before she turns around completely to face me.
I like her in my kitchen. I like her short shorts and her pile of hair. I like everything about her right now. But I would like this a hell of a lot more if I were buried deep inside her.