Chapter 010 Lennie
The bell above the door jingles, and my mouth twists up into a smile before I even verify who it is. I’m not looking at the desk. I’m shifting inventory, moving framed prints around to fill the gap left by a sale, so I catch his reflection in the glass of a landscape before I see the real thing.
Levi.
He’s wearing that dusty Stetson and a shirt that fits him too well. My heart does a stupid little stutter-step.
"Hey, Levi. What a pleasant surprise."
He grins, though it doesn't quite reach his eyes. "Hey. Am I catching you at a bad time?"
"No. Not at all. You've brought me good luck, in fact." I wipe my hands on my jeans and lean against the counter, trying to look casual, like I haven't been thinking about him since the last time I saw him.
"How's that?" He watches me wrestle with a heavy easel. He steps forward, his boots heavy on the hardwood, and helps me slide it into an open spot near the window.
"Well, since you bought that picture, I've been on a selling streak. Just moved another one."
"Yeah?" He sounds genuinely impressed. He runs a hand along the top of the easel. "Which one?"
He asks like he knows my inventory. Like he’s been paying attention. It’s cute, and it makes the heat rise in my cheeks.
"The one with the expectant mother and the angel. Black and white. It's going to be a baby shower gift."
The air leaves the room.
His expression doesn't just change; it shuts down. A curtain dropping. His jaw tightens, a muscle feathering near his ear.
"Oh, I'm sorry," I stammer, the mood fracturing instantly. "I didn't mean to hurt your feelings or remind you, you know, of what's to come."
"No, no, it's okay." He chuckles, but it’s a dry, brittle sound. He raises a hand as if to ward off my apology. "That's a beautiful piece. I just... I was picturing it in my mind. You didn't upset me. Jesus, is it that obvious?"
I offer a small, sympathetic smile. "No, I just figured it might be triggering. I have to be careful sometimes. I see a lot of people in a day. Everyone comes in here carrying their own baggage. Photographs can spark a memory or create emotion, and over the years, I've learned to be sensitive to that."
"Yes, you have."
He looks at me then. Really looks at me. The silence stretches, thick and heavy, smelling of old paper and the lemon polish I used on the floors this morning.
"So," I say, breaking the stare before I do something dumb like reach for his hand. "To what do I owe this pleasure?"
Using the word pleasure immediately drags my mind back to the dream I had about him. The way my imagination filled in the blanks of his body. I shift my weight, suddenly uncomfortable in my own skin.
"I'm going boating with Buddy tonight," he says, his voice rougher than usual. "Thought I'd stop by and say hello to you first."
God, I want to kiss him. It’s a physical ache in the center of my chest.
"Hello," I say softly.
"Hi."
He’s giving me bedroom eyes, half-lidded and intense, but I don't think he means to. It’s just the way he looks at things. Like he’s trying to figure out how they’re put together.
"Did you find a place to hang your picture?" I ask, desperate for neutral ground.
"Yes, I did." He nods, following me as I retreat behind the safety of the back counter. "It's in my room at the ranch. Got it right next to my new drafting table."
"Oh, that's perfect! It'll give you some inspiration."
"It already has. I've been drafting up a house of sorts. Possibly a real one, unless I find out I made a critical mistake down the road while I'm getting my degree."
"I'd love to see it sometime," I say. I’m putting together another small display easel, my fingers fumbling slightly with the wingnuts. "I was going to ask—when will you have some time to do some more riding? Take some real lessons. The last time didn't really count."
He leans against the counter, crossing his arms. The fabric of his shirt pulls tight across his biceps. "I was wondering when you'd ask."
His eyes are mesmerizing. Searching. I could look at him all day and never get tired of it. But my thoughts are drifting south, imagining those hands on something other than a drafting table, and panic sets in. I need a bucket of cold water.
"Did you mention this to Shelly?" I ask. "Is she okay with it?"
He blinks. The warmth evaporates.
"Um, the last time I checked, I don't need to ask my girlfriend if it's okay to do my job."
The snap in his voice stings. "Oh." I blink, taken aback. "Okay. I just don't want to cause any trouble."
"It's no trouble, Lennie," he says, his tone clipped. "I teach riding lessons all the time. You worry too much. And besides, she's... well, I don't know what she's doing. I can't seem to wrap my head around it."
"Is there anything I can do to help?"
His gaze slides away from me, dropping inch by inch to the floorboards. We're in the back room now, hidden from the street. The look on his face is unreadable—exhaustion mixed with something that looks suspiciously like grief. He looks like he might cry, or maybe punch a wall.
"What is it, Levi?" I take a step toward him. My hand twitches at my side. I want to touch him, to smooth that line between his brows, but I don't trust myself to stop there.
"I, um." He looks at the wall, refusing to meet my eyes. "Listen, I've got to go. Why don't you come by the ranch later? I'll be there. I'm staying at the resort house."
"Are you sure?"
"Yeah." He nods, but he’s already turning away.
"Are you okay?"
"I'm fine," he lies. It’s a terrible lie. "I've got to go. Buddy is waiting for me."
"Sure. I'll see you later."
"Yeah."
He walks out without looking back. The bell jingles again, a cheerful sound that mocks the heaviness he left behind.
I stand there for a long time, staring at the closed door. The man is hurting. He's all over the place, spinning out, and I’m standing here lusting after him like a teenager while he’s drowning. He’s a friend, and I’m not being much of one.
Dust yourself off, Lennie.
I make up my mind. We'll have fun riding tonight. I won't be stupid enough to bring up his problems just to distract myself from my own hormones. I’m normally levelheaded. I’m good to the people who are good to me. This mess isn't me.
I need a break. In my world, that means grabbing my camera and going on a hunt.
I flip the sign to 'Closed' an hour early. The drive through town is automatic, my truck finding the ruts in the road while my brain spins. Somehow, I end up at the marina. Maybe it was Levi mentioning Buddy, or maybe I’m just a glutton for punishment.
The sun is dipping low, casting long, orange shadows across the water. The smell of lake water—fish, gasoline, and wet wood—hits me as soon as I park. I see them walking down the dock. Levi and Buddy.
I shouldn't do this.
I grab my camera bag, like that’s a valid excuse, and slip down the walkway. They’re climbing onto Levi’s boat. I stop behind a stack of crates near the fuel pump, mere feet away but out of their line of sight.
Something tells me to stay. To use the skills I’ve honed over a lifetime of missed sounds and silent rooms. Moral or not, I need to know.
Buddy is fiddling with something on the mast, a screwdriver in his hand. Levi is sitting on the deck, shoulders slumped, looking like he’s carrying the weight of the entire Barnes ranch on his back.
"Your face has been dragging to the ground since back at the store, Levi," Buddy says. His voice carries over the water, but I watch his lips to catch the edges of the words. "You want to tell me what's wrong, or is this a two-drink minimum sort of thing? Your daddy manage to get himself into more trouble, son?"
"You know I don't drink, Buddy," Levi says, staring at his boots. "And no, daddy's on his way to rehab last I heard. Can't say I give a damn though."
"Then what's with the sour puss? This anything to do with that chippy?"
Levi looks up. "Which chippy are you talking about?"
Buddy's eyebrows shoot up. "Oh. There's more than one." He shakes his head, chuckling darkly. "God, you kids nowadays. I tell you. I'd barely want one woman in my life, but today? Jesus."
"It's not like that, man," Levi corrects him, his voice quiet. "I'm only in love with one of them."
My heart stops.
It actually stops beating for a second. The blood rushes in my ears, loud as the ocean.
Buddy stands upright, abandoning the mast. "This got anything to do with you buying that picture from Lennie?"
I feel like I should run. I should cover my ears, close my eyes, and run. But it’s like my evil alter ego is sitting on my shoulder, eating popcorn, holding me in place.
"Sort of," Levi admits. "And I don't know what the fuck to do about it."
"So, you're having a baby with this other woman, but you've got a thing for Lennie," Buddy clarifies, pointing the screwdriver at him. "Is that right?"
Levi nods. "Yeah."
"Jesus Christ, Levi. In the town's eyes, your daddy's starting to look like the better goddamn man here."
"I haven't tried to kill anyone, Buddy."
"Don't be a fool, Levi. Y'all know how this town works. It's the men that run out on their responsibilities that are scumwads. And there are plenty of them. Your daddy's going to be getting himself sober while you're out knocking up one girl, even though you've got another one already knocked up." Buddy spits over the side of the boat.
"Tell me what I should do then, Buddy," Levi says, raking a hand through his hair. He looks desperate. "Because as much as I'd love to stay away from Lennie, I can't. My heart and my head won't let me. And as much as I'd love to be with Shelly, and fulfill my fatherly obligations, my heart and my head won't let me do that either. You know, she won't even talk about the baby until she finds out how far along she is? Jesus Christ. She's driving me over the fucking ledge. I don't even know if she's married or not."
Buddy freezes. "Then why the fuck did you climb into the sack with her, boy? Goddammit, shame on your brother Nash for not smacking you around for pulling a stunt like this. That's rule number one, you fool! You don't screw around with a woman y'all don't know nothing about!"
Buddy paces the small deck. "What happens if she is married? All the writing's on the wall if she's got a belly a mile wide and she hasn't slept with her husband in months! Never mind worrying about your daddy killing you! Worry about that dang husband coming around and knocking some sense into you!" He mutters something under his breath, turning back to the mast, then spins around again. "And what makes you think she's married?"
"Wedding rings," Levi says. "She's got them. Or she had them. In her bathroom. She's taken them away now."
Buddy purses his lips, shaking his head slowly. "I ought to slap you upside the head."
I feel sick. Physically ill.
I know too much.
I’m just as much of a fool as Levi for sitting here, reading lips, eavesdropping on a conversation that was never meant for me. It’s a curse. I clutch my camera bag to my chest and back away, stepping carefully on the wooden planks so they don't creak.
I hop back in my truck, hands shaking on the wheel. I can't go home. If I go home, I’ll just sit there and replay those words—I'm only in love with one of them—until they lose all meaning. Going to Mama and Daddy’s place is out; they don’t need to see me like this.
So, I head to Trisha's.
I don't even text her. I just drive.
When I knock, I feel like a fugitive.
Trisha opens the door, her face immediately shifting from casual to concerned. "What’s going on, Lennie? You look like you’ve just seen a ghost." She’s still in her scrubs, hair messy in a clip.
I walk inside and kick off my shoes. "I did something monumentally stupid just now."
I follow her into the kitchen. The house smells like laundry detergent and vanilla. She pours two glasses of sweet tea from the pitcher in the fridge and slides the cookie jar across the table. It’s always full. I take a cookie, staring at it like I’ve never seen food before.
"Levi is in love with me," I say.
Trisha pauses, the pitcher mid-air. She looks at me like I skipped a chapter. "And we are not happy about this because?"
"That’s the stupid part. I should never have followed him and Buddy to the marina. I should never have eavesdropped. I’m supposed to find out that he loves me by him telling me, not by him confiding in a friend while I hide behind a fuel pump."
Trisha sits down, mimicking a cycling motion with her hands. "Okay, honey, back up. Walk me through this."
"He came to the store to say hello. He was only there for a few minutes, got weird about the baby picture, and fled. I ended up following him to the marina because that’s where he said he’d be. I sat there like some creeper." I take a bite of the cookie. It tastes like sawdust in my dry mouth. "I should’ve brought a wig and sunglasses."
"And how do we know he loves you?"
"Because I saw him tell Buddy. Right after he told Buddy that the girl he got pregnant might be married."
Trisha grabs a cookie and bites into it with aggressive force. "Tramp," she mutters, chewing angrily. "Women like that give us a bad name, Lennie. You ought to stay clear of Levi if he’s not only fooling around with you when he’s expecting a baby, but expecting a baby with someone who’s potentially married. What is going on with this world?"
"I don’t think he knows for sure. That’s the thing. He suspects. He saw rings in her bathroom."
"It’s still wrong, Lennie."
"I know. It’s got wrong written all over it in neon letters. And I should know better. But I just... I can’t help it."
"Oh, I get it." She reaches over and pats my hand. "That man is an eye full of candy. And he’s sweet, and he supported your business and all. But if he’s trying to get into your pants when he’s got a baby on the way with this other woman—married or not—he’s just as much of a scumwad as that daddy of his sitting in jail."
She pulls her hand back, pointing a finger at me. "Now, I won’t sit here and watch my best friend get hurt over this. That man needs to figure his shit out. And he needs to stay away from you until he does."
"I know it. And, for the record, I didn’t invite him to the store. He came of his own accord."
Trisha gives me a look. "Do you think I don’t know that?"
"I don’t know what to do, Trish. I don’t want to be rude to him. I don't want to break his heart."
"I know it’s hard," she says, her voice softening. "Once again, having feelings for someone that is out of reach. And this one really hits, because for once, this someone actually feels something back. But before this gets out of hand, Lennie, before you get hurt badly, you’ve got to either let him know where you stand, or you’ve got to shut the door."
"And that’s where the trouble lies," I say, tracing the grain of the wood table. "It’s going to be awfully suspicious if I just instantly start rejecting him, when I was willing to be his friend before I found out he was falling for me. That’s the real reason I’m kicking myself. It was easier not knowing. It was easier just dreaming."
"Look at it this way," Trisha says. "At least you know. Knowledge is power. Use it wisely."
# Levi
After Buddy's lecture, I help him fix the mast, and we head out onto the water. The engine hums, a low vibration that travels up through the soles of my boots. We say nothing to each other. We just take in the nature.
The water is glass, reflecting the dying light. It usually clears my head, being out here. But tonight, the silence is loud.
In my heart of hearts, I know Buddy is right. It doesn’t matter that I’m falling in love with Lennie. I’ve got no business being with her other than as friends. And I know that every time I’m with her, I want to be more than just friends. I don’t want to turn this into a game. I don’t want to hurt her.
But I promised her riding lessons. And riding lessons I’ll give her.
This is the part where I need to grow the fuck up.
Buddy was right about me needing to learn a thing or two about women before getting involved with them. Something my daddy never taught me or my brother. He taught us how to throw a punch and how to ride a horse, but he never taught us how to be men.
Later, back at the ranch, I’m in my room at the resort house. My drafting table is covered in sketches—lines and angles that make sense when the rest of my life doesn't.
There’s a tap at the door. Cassidy’s head pops in. "I think that girl is here to see you."
"Shit." I push back from the desk. "I forgot to tell Billy she'd be stopping by. I’ll be right out."
I grab my hat, jamming it onto my head as I head outside.
Lennie is sitting on the front porch of the main ranch house, talking to Piper. They both have sweating glasses of tea in their hands. Lennie sees me and gives me a little wave.
God, she's adorable. She looks like she belongs here, sitting on that porch swing. Like she’s always been here. I try to shake the thought off. She’s here for a service I’m providing. That’s it. This is my bread and butter right now. Until I master the art of designing properties, horses are my paycheck.
"Hi, there." I lift my Stetson. "Are you ready?"
"I am." She smiles. It’s a brave smile. I wonder if she’s still thinking about how weird I got at the store.
"Be sure to come on in for a piece of pie when you're through," Piper insists, leaning forward. "I want a lesson in photography, too. It's a secret passion of mine."
"Definitely. I'd love to talk shop with you," Lennie says. "I don't get to do that with anyone."
"You two have fun," Billy says, coming out the screen door, wiping his hands on a rag. He gives me a nod, eyes evaluating. He doesn't miss much.
"We will. Thanks," Lennie says.
"Digger's all set," Cassidy calls out from the driveway.
"Sprout been out earlier?" I ask. "I haven't ridden him in a while."
"Sure, if that's what you prefer," Billy says. "Whatever you like."
"Come on," I tell Lennie. "How about I let you pick your horse?"
"Any of them is fine, really."
She follows me to the stable. The air smells of hay and horse sweat, a smell that usually calms me. Not a word is uttered about how abruptly I left her store. It surprises me, and I’m grateful. I don't have an explanation prepared that wouldn't make me sound insane.
Without asking, I grab Sprout’s halter. I bring the mounting block over to her.
"I assume y'all want to actually ride alone this time, not with me," I say, keeping my tone light.
I show her how to get on without my help. She’s focused, biting her lip in concentration. She was a natural before, so I don't see why she wouldn't be still. Once she's up, I give her the basics—how to stop, start, steer.
I saddle up Digger and we head out to the gated pasture. The sun has dipped below the horizon, leaving the sky a bruised purple.
"How y'all feeling up there?" I ask, looking up so she can see my mouth. I remember Trisha mentioning the lip-reading thing once, casually. I want to make it easy for her.
"Good." She looks comfortable in the saddle.
"Are you comfortable? You want to take him for a few laps around the gate here?"
She nods. "Sure. I'd love to." She pats Sprout’s neck. "Wouldn't you love to go for a little walk, boy?"
I grin. "They love it when you talk to them. It calms them. Helps them get to know your voice."
"They're smart creatures," she says. "I'm just ashamed to have lived here all my life and never learned to ride."
"Lots of people are like that. Nothing to be ashamed of. I was raised around horses, and then I had my share of ranch work off and on, and now I'm working here."
We ride side by side, the horses’ hooves thudding softly on the earth. It’s peaceful. For a moment, Shelly and the baby and the rings in the bathroom feel a million miles away.
"What made you decide to get into architecture?" she asks.
I lick my lips, keeping my head turned toward her. "Well, that was sort of a spontaneous thing, see. I never knew that I was into that until I saw an advertisement pop up on my phone about five years ago. It got stuck in my head. I put it off for a bit, but then I just woke up one morning a couple of years ago and said that's it."
I look out at the fence line. "I want to have more than just menial labor as a livelihood. I want something to show for it. I've been putting money away all my life and I figured it's time to invest in something more than a house or the stock market. I figure once I'm finished school, I can get a job either in town or in Dallas, start somewhere. Maybe start up my own business down the line. I'll be working for the rest of my life. I can't see stopping, so I figure I might as well do something that keeps my mind active."
Lennie nods, her eyes on the horizon. "I'm the same. I can't see me ever not working. I love what I do too much. It's not even like work. I might have someone come and work some shifts for me here and there, like I do now. But ultimately, my face in that store makes all the difference. And I love being there."
We reach the far end of the pasture. The crickets are starting up.
"How do you feel about riding on your own?" I ask. "We can ride slowly, outside the pasture?"
She smiles, and it hits me right in the chest. "Sure. That sounds like fun."
And the next hour is the most fun I've had in years.
Even though I know it won't be this way for long.