Chapter 15
Chapter Fifteen
LOLA-MAE
“C’mon. We’re having lunch together,” Harlan calls out.
“Lunch together?” I ask
I wonder if it’s another sandwich in the dining room.
I kind of hope it is, because when I went shopping for myself, I didn’t buy any chips, and I love the ruffled chips he has.
I don’t get the chance to ask him what or where this lunch is, because he walks past me to the door that leads outside and just keeps going.
My body jumps, and before I realize what’s happening, I’m on my feet and running after him, leaving my phone on the desk. My focus is on the back of this man, and his backside at the same time.
How Harlan was able to find jeans that mold to his thighs and ass to perfection is beyond me. He doesn’t seem like the kind of guy who has blue jeans specially made. But maybe he is, because they really look like he had them made for him and only him.
He disappears inside the barn, and I stand a few feet away, waiting for him. I’m not sure what’s going on. He mentioned lunch, but then he walked out of the house, so I’m confused and also a little hungry.
A few moments later, I hear the engine of his quad as he rides out of the barn and stops in front of me. “Hop on. We’ll go for lunch.”
“Go for lunch?” I ask.
He hums but doesn’t offer any explanation other than a head jerk toward the back of the quad. I’ve done nothing but throw caution to the wind these past few weeks, so why would I stop now?
Walking around the back of the quad, I throw my leg over the side and climb on behind him.
Then I slide my arms around his waist and glide one of my hands up the center of his belly and stop at his chest as he drives.
I can feel his heart slamming against my palm, and I wonder if he can feel mine where my chest is pressed against his back.
Closing my eyes, I don’t even watch where we’re going. I don’t care. He’s driving this quad, and I’m along for the ride. I would be okay with always being along for the ride when it comes to Harlan, though. So far, I haven’t been disappointed.
When the quad comes to a stop, I sit back slightly, opening my eyes as my hands fall to my sides from around him. Climbing off the machine, I look around the area. I can’t even see the house from here, but that isn’t what has me staring in awe.
What has me slack-jawed is that while it’s an open field—a beautiful open field with tall grass and a cluster of trees in the distance—it is otherwise completely and totally isolated.
I don’t know what I expected to see, but I thought there would be cows and buildings, maybe something in the distance, but all there is are trees, grass, cacti, and rocks.
Harlan is moving around behind me, but I can’t look anywhere else. I’m mesmerized by what I’m seeing. It’s nothing like West Texas, nothing I’ve ever seen before, and then I’m hit with something else.
He’s rich.
He comes from money. I mean, I’ve been doing the books for his business, and I knew he had something, but I assumed it all just went back into the cattle ranch.
But seeing it like this, I realize it’s money money.
I grew up in a single-wide with no electricity and holes in the floor. Living in his ranch house is the best place I’ve ever lived in my whole life. I haven’t even allowed myself to think about the main house.
Harlan clears his throat, and I spin around to face him. He holds out his hand, and I look down to see that he’s placed a blanket on the ground along with some containers of what I assume is food.
“Join me?” he asks.
Nodding, I slip my palm in his, and together, we lower ourselves down onto the blanket. Crossing my legs, I place my hands in my lap, suddenly feeling very unsure about myself and us. I bite the inside of my cheek and work the skin there.
HARLAN
Something is wrong. I’m not sure what changed between the house and here, but something has definitely shifted between us.
I just can’t put my finger on it. Maybe it has to do with that text from Maisie.
Though I’m not sure why it would. We’re going to the bonfire. I’ve got no issue with that at all.
“Tell me what’s wrong,” I gently demand.
Her spine straightens before she lifts her head, her eyes finding mine. She doesn’t say anything immediately. But I watch her, waiting, because clearly, she’s working through something inside her head.
“I’m poor,” she announces.
I blink, staring at her and unsure of how to respond. When she doesn’t continue, only then do I respond. And when I do, it’s with a question, because I don’t quite understand her statement.
“You’re poor?”
“I didn’t grow up with all of this,” she says, her voice softer and almost distant-sounding.
I could tell her in all the ways I am poor, too, money only being part of it. But I don’t. Instead, I let her speak because this is a good moment to slow down and truly get to know one another.
“We had nothing,” she murmurs. “Holes in the floor, hand-me-down everything… nothing.”
“And you think it makes you less than?” I ask, but I don’t give her the chance to respond.
I continue. “My granny grew almost everything we ate. Some years, we were lucky to have beef because my grandaddy didn’t have to sell all the cattle, or the price was decent enough that he could afford to butcher one.
But not every year. And my family has had to sell off pieces of our land throughout the years just to stay afloat.
Never been rich, darlin’. Also, rich means different things.
I got no family left. Some days, I feel like the poorest man in town. ”
The last thing I wanted to do was make her feel bad. I’ve been wanting to tell her about my family being gone, but I wasn’t sure how. I never intended to blurt it out. But it’s out there now, and I can’t take it back or pretend I didn’t say it.
She presses her lips together in a tight line, then pinches her eyes closed before she reopens them, and her gaze connects to mine.
“I don’t have anyone either, Harlan.”
Reaching out, I lace my fingers with hers, squeezing gently. “I want to hear about your family, and I’ll tell you about mine. This is going to be quite the rodeo, Lola-Mae,” I murmur.
She lifts our hands, then touches her lips to my fingers before she speaks. “I’m ready for the ride,” she exhales.