Chapter 011 Lennie
Levi turns Digger around a bit when he talks to me from up on his horse. I watch his profile in the fading sunlight, the sun dipping low. What makes Levi even more beautiful is he doesn't know how damn beautiful he is. The way he smiles, eyes crinkling with the rest of his face. Tufts of those soft sandy brown curls poke out from under his Stetson at the back and sides, his Adam's apple bobbing as he speaks. Lean muscles shift under his flannel shirt, prominent enough to catch my eye. And don't get me started on that perfect ass in those jeans. Goddamn.
He rides beside me, talking me through pushing Sprout a little harder. Then I lose myself in it. We pick up a soft trot, and the horses just follow each other, like they're on autopilot. I don't have to do much but hang on. My hair whips in the breeze, bobbing with each step. Vibrations from Sprout's hooves thrum in my chest. Adrenaline bubbles up, turning into little giggles as we go faster. It's like slipping into another world—no hurt, no stress, no work. Just nature and peace. Nothing matches this feeling.
Levi steers us toward the wooded area, right near where I snapped that first photo of him. He recognizes it, shoots me a look, and I read his mind. He pulls Digger up to a tree, hops off, and helps me down from Sprout—even though we both know I can manage. "Show me how you took that amazing photograph."
"I don't have my camera, just my phone. But that'll do."
I feel that rush of electricity when his hand touches mine. His eyes say he feels it too, but he looks away to the horses. He ties them to the tree, pulls a blanket from the saddle side, and spreads it on the ground. We both lie back on it. "Wrong time of day, of course—that shot was late at night, and the sun ain't poking through just right. But this is how I did it."
His breath warms my cheek as he peers at the screen. Heat rolls off his body next to mine, and I'm fighting every dirty dream I've had about him pleasuring me. Those memories crash in uninvited, especially now. I try not to squirm, lining up the lens like before. "See how the trees ain't quite centered? Lets the sun poke through at that angle?"
"Yeah, I see it."
My belly rumbles—nerves and that cheesy lunch. Lying down keeps the bubbles quiet, but sitting up pushes one out. Can't tell if it's loud since, well, I can't hear. I keep a straight face, scrolling to the new shot, but Levi's expression shifts.
Shit.
He hooks my chin, pulling my gaze to his. "Did you just fart?"
He's hiding a smirk, but his eyes give him away.
I look off, scrambling for a lie, but he turns me back. "Well, that's one serious advantage I never thought of."
My brows furrow.
"Y'all will never know if I cut one, unless you smell it." He looks away, shaking his head. "God, what I could get away with."
I play along, slapping his arm. "Are you saying you find it to your advantage that I'm deaf?"
His shoulders shake with silent laughter, hunching like he's dodging blows. "You, Levi Paxton, are wicked."
He fans his face, red from laughing. "No, ma'am, I do believe you are the wicked one here."
I crack up. My laugh probably sounds off—Trisha and the special school never fixed how I laugh or cry. But Levi laughs with me as I smack his shoulder. Another one slips out, sending him rolling. We tussle on the blanket, beating at each other, laughing till our sides ache.
He mewls, wiping his eyes as we flop back down. "God, I don't believe I've laughed like that in a while."
"Me neither." I've lost my phone somewhere. My head's on the blanket, eyes locked on him.
He turns to me, and it's dangerous. His eyes search mine. "You know, Lennie, one of the things I really enjoy about you being deaf is that y'all are always paying attention. Most folks bore of me after a sentence or two. Not that I got much to say anyway."
Nobody's ever said anything so sweet. Tears prick my eyes, lump in my throat. I smile soft. He sees the gloss. "If things were different, I think you and I could really be something special together, you know?"
I nod. "We already are something special." I swallow hard.
He searches my eyes, kisses my forehead. I feel him mouth, "Yes, we are."
He props his head on his hand, elbow down. "So, Lenora, huh."
"Yeah. Daddy's Leon, Mama's Amora—they mashed 'em together. Bet they were ticked when everybody started calling me Lennie."
He chuckles. "I love Lenora, actually. It's beautiful."
"Okay, but don't ever call me that."
He busts out laughing.
"I hate Lenora. Only sign it on my art for Mama and Daddy—they'd die otherwise."
He's still cracking up. "I'll remember that." He leans in, teasing. "Lenora."
I smack him, and we're play-fighting again, laughing, rolling. When he stops, his eyes drop to my lips. My heart hammers.
God, he's gonna kiss me.
God, he's gonna kiss me.
Trisha's voice screams in my head—don't be the other woman. But before I pull back, he just rests his forehead on mine, eyes shut. He's warring inside. I toss him a line. "We should get back, Levi. Got a mountain of work before Saturday."
He lifts off. "Yeah. Me too. Decide what pieces for the Hoedown?"
"Depends what sells before then."
"Good point."
We stand, but he wraps me in his arms before I can move. I'm stiff at first, then melt into him. His chest presses mine—I feel his heartbeat. Rush hits low, and I whimper. He nestles his head in mine, like we fit perfect. His big hands stroke tender, stirring feelings I've never known. So turned on, can't imagine better.
He kisses my cheek, shockwave down my spine, then lets go. "Thanks for tonight. Really needed that."
"You're welcome." That's all I got. Riding back, the thumping down there builds—a small thrilling orgasm, then another, releasing what Levi stirred. At the stable, my panties are soaked. I excuse to the washroom. Piper's up, insists on pie. Levi joins, starved. "This is delicious."
"It's Mama's recipe."
"Mama's recipe ain't got nothing on this." Levi winks at me, heart fluttering again. Every look, every move—he's pulling me in. Never been so hooked on anyone, and it's only been days. Scary, knowing he'll never be mine. But he seems hooked too, so he'll always circle back. I'll take scraps.
"Let me walk you, show the resort." Levi says.
"Sure. Sounds great."
His Stetson sits on the table; he grabs it. I thank Piper, follow out. He leads to the back of the house, cobblestone path. Resort house matches the ranch—grand but homey. Hunter green wooden double doors, matching shutters on windows. Parking behind, access from ranch.
Foyer has signs for room numbers. Concierge desk empty—no 24-hour yet. Tall ferns flank it. Levi says behind the desk, resort logo soon, still designing. Don't look unfinished, but as an artist, I see walls begging for art. Barren textured paint.
A couple passes as we head right hallway, last door. "Wanna show you something." Levi punches code on the pad. Door opens to suite: double bed, sitting area with fireplace, three-piece bath. "Fancier than I need, but Billy insists till bunkhouse. Maybe six months, then traffic takes it. I'll bunk in the ranch house after."
"You ain't going home?"
"Not if Daddy's there, no." He shifts, points to drafting table, my photo on wall ledge by fireplace. First time seeing my work hung outside the store. Looks right. "Takes my breath away every time."
"Like it was meant for here."
"It was. But it goes where I go. Someday, my own place—designed by me—that picture's first in."
He means it—face sincere, no fear saying it. Tough outside, soft inside. Shelley’s lucky. Hope she knows. I smile, say nothing. Words fail when it's this sweet. Art's my language.
"I'll walk you to your car. Got work, best not hold you."
Heart wants to stay—this is his spot, temporary home. Bringing me here's special. I drift to drafting table, sketch pinned. "This is beautiful, Levi." Rough cottage-style house, artistic, not too fancy or plain.
"Beginnings of my dream home. Like it?"
"Love it. Wanna see it someday."
"Won't get license couple years, but money's there. Can't hire out or it's illegal. Wait's worth it."
We lock eyes. He touches my face—skin sizzles. Eyes close, then flutter open quick. Don't wanna lead him on, be that woman. If different, these moments ours for real. Empty now, Shelley stealing substance. "Really should go," I say gentle.
He takes my hand, kisses temple. "Let's."
Hand stays in his till my car.
Buddy waves from his shop next door—found perfect antique frame. Inside, he's polishing at counter. Gorgeous oak, fine edge details, not overdone. "Figure sand and re-stain. What color?"
"Deep cherry'd look great." I inspect. "Great find. Where?"
"Shipment this morning. Ordered for Hoedown—fresh stuff. Old bitties can't gripe I got nothing new."
I grin. Adorable man. "How much?"
He waves. "Nothin'. Twenty bucks. Refinish is love."
Buddy never charges fair—rent's cheap too. His head snaps up; I follow gaze. Levi walks in, smiles at Buddy, bigger at me. Buddy eyes us. "Lennie, take frame, test with pictures. See stain color."
Surprised. "Um, sure." Levi clocks it. "See you later."
"See you Saturday." Levi winks.
Glancing back, Buddy's eyeing Levi like a scolding's coming.
Levi
He waits till the door shuts. "What the hell you doing, boy?"
I play dumb. "Don't know what you mean."
"You messin' with that girl's head."
"Ain't. Gave her riding lesson last night, that's all."
"Ain't the lesson. It's the other stuff."
I lift a brow. "If you think I'm sleepin' with her, dead wrong."
"Don't insult me or her virtue. Lennie's no harlot."
"Don't gotta tell me. Why the lecture? Nothin' goin' on."
"Plenty is. Kiddin' yourself otherwise." He jabs door. "Those looks. Both ways. Trouble brewin'. Keep distance."
"How? Friends, teachin' her to ride, same small town, lots in common."
First time Buddy snarls. "Find a way, goddammit. Hurt one hair on her head, so help me."
Jaw muscles clench. I swallow. "You don't understand, Buddy." Voice pitches up, then drops. "I'd never hurt her. Not one inch." Lick lips, truth spilling. "I'm in love with her, man. Cold, hard, completely in love with her."