Chapter 22
CHAPTER
TWENTY-TWO
Mira
“This isn’t going to take that long at all,” Hartley says, surveying the contents of my apartment. There’s a question in his eyes that he doesn’t ask. It’s probably, “Where’s all of your stuff?”
“The furniture stays,” I say, lacing my fingers through his. “This was Clint’s apartment before I moved in.” A smile tugs at my lips. “He moved in with Jeff, so it was perfect timing.”
Hartley nods, pretending not to pick up on the fact that Jeff is gay.
“Oh, come on,” I say, laughing. “You were relieved just now.”
“What? Me? No, I wasn’t.”
“You had a strange look in your eye the last time I brought up Jeff,” I say. “Don’t act like you didn’t.”
He faces me. “Oh, you mean the look like the one you have written all over your pretty little face when anyone brings up Lora?”
“We’re not talking about her,” I say, wagging a finger through the air.
This amuses him. “And why not?”
“Because Lora isn’t gay, and Lora wanted my husband. And even though I’m sure she’ll sit elsewhere at church—because I’ll be sitting beside you now—I still don’t want to talk about her.”
He pulls me into his chest and smiles down at me. The corners of his lips stretch from ear to ear as if he’s aware of a secret that I don’t know. I wait, thinking he’ll tell me why he looks so happy.
“What?” I ask, furrowing my brows when it becomes clear that he’s not going to explain himself.
He doesn’t answer. He only kisses me. Strange man.
“We’re going to have to work on your responses,” I say. “We have a little miscommunication happening.”
“We do not.”
“I just asked you what you were smiling about, and you just kissed me.”
He laughs. “Trust me, if you want to answer every question I have with a kiss, I’m fine with it.”
My phone buzzes in my pocket. I pull it out to see a number that I don’t recognize.
“That’s weird,” I say, opening my text app.
“Who is it?” Hartley asks.
“I don’t know.” But then I read the text and giggle. “It’s from Astrid, Gianna, and Audrey.” I quickly figure out which number belongs to who and save them to my contacts list.
Astrid: Hey! We figure the odds are good that we’ll all be hanging out a lot soon (unless you don’t like us). So we started a group text.
Audrey: I’m so excited to get to know you better.
Gianna: Yeah, yeah, yeah. Me, too. So how was the sex?
I burst out laughing.
“What?” Hartley asks.
“I …” I laugh again. “It’s … Gianna.” That’s explanation enough.
“Say no more.” He makes a face. “Do you have boxes anywhere?”
I nod. “Jeff brought some up for me yesterday. He probably tossed them in my bedroom.”
“I feel good about him being in your bedroom knowing he has Clint.”
“Yes. He likes Clints, not clits,” I say, grinning.
Hartley’s eyes hood ever so slightly.
“Keep looking at me that way …” I say, “and we won’t get out of here until dark.”
He presses a wet kiss to my mouth. “Good point. Want me to get started packing you up?”
“Sure.”
“Any drawers that I shouldn’t open? Any closets off-limits?”
How considerate. I stand on my tiptoes and kiss him. “There are a bunch of vibrators in the drawer by my bed. Everything else is basic stuff.”
He heads toward my room, mumbling, “Won’t need those anymore.”
Audrey: Gianna!
Gianna: What? I’m not going to pretend to be someone I’m not. And I’m curious.
Me: 100/10. But I could’ve told you that before now.
Gianna: I KNEW IT. Good for you.
“Are you emotionally attached to this pillow?” Hartley shouts. “It’s flat as hell.”
“Do you have good pillows?”
He pokes his head around the corner. “Only on my bed.”
“Throw that pillow away,” I say, grinning at him.
“You don’t have to tell me twice. But how do you only have one pillow?”
“If you throw that one away, I technically have zero pillows.”
“Smart-ass.”
I peek down the hall as he moves easily through my bedroom and wait for a ribbon of anxiety to swirl through me. But it doesn’t come. Seeing him amid my things, in my apartment, feels natural.
I just hope that sharing space with him in his house will come as easily. I snort. I’m sure I’ll come easily anywhere with him.
We haven’t discussed what will happen when we return to the ranch. When we left, we had it all figured out. Or I thought so, at least. But the thought of going back under the rules we set for ourselves seems ridiculous. Nothing has really changed, yet it feels like everything has changed.
Hartley moves across the doorway, and I watch him carefully place my lingerie into a box. A smile ghosts my lips as I watch him with a full heart. That’s my husband.
Astrid: How long are you staying in Kentucky?
Me: We’re packing up my stuff now. I’m not sure if we’re going to a hotel tonight or going back to Sugar Creek.
Audrey: Let me know if you need anything. I’m just down the road.
Astrid: And I’ll be down the driveway in another month or so.
Gianna: I HATE ALL OF YOU HAVING FUN WITHOUT ME.
Astrid: Have you made any headway with Drake?
Gianna: Yeah. He’s mostly on board. But we can’t find anything we love, and he’s all frugal and responsible and won’t just buy something on a whim.
Me:
I stand in the sunlight, letting the morning rays warm my skin. My mom used to do this, and I remember thinking it was strange.
“It’s just the sun, Mama. Why do you close your eyes like you love it?”
“Because I do, sweet girl. It makes me feel warm—like a cuddle from the sky.”
“I like that.”
“Never take the sunshine for granted. It’s a little gift from God. A kiss from heaven.”
I grin, my face to the sky, and accept my kiss from heaven. In a way, it feels like a stamp of approval of my new journey in life, and of my new friends. Mom would love that the girls are texting me. She always was a girl’s girl.
I’ve never had friends like this before, and I’m not quite sure how it works. But I don’t think I’m going to hate it.
By the looks of it, my life in Sugar Creek won’t resemble the life I’ve imagined there before. It’s a one-eighty from my expectations in nearly every sense.
Has it always been this way, and I never saw it for what it was?
Me: Thank you all for coming to the wedding and bachelorette party. It means a lot to me. I’ll send a proper thank-you when I get back and settled.
Astrid: Don’t waste your time on us. We had fun.
Gianna: Yeah. Spend your time riding that cowboy. Yeehaw!
Me: I have stories …
Gianna: You and I are going to get along just fine.
“You have three towels and one roll of toilet paper, but sixteen bottles of lotion,” Hartley says.
“Your point?”
“I … I don’t know.”
Me: I need to go help Hart. He’s trying to pack up my bathroom and is melting down over my lotion bottle count.
Astrid: He’ll get used to it. Trust me. It took Gray a minute, but he needs more counter space than I do at this point.
Audrey: Text me when you’re back, and we can grab a coffee or something.
Gianna:
Audrey:
Me: xoxoxo
I slide my phone in my pocket and practically skip into my bathroom. Hartley meets me in the doorway with a box of my things.
“That’s done,” he says. “I emptied your drawers into a few boxes, but I didn’t touch your jewelry or books.”
“Smart man.”
He grins. “Want me to do the kitchen?”
“I think I just have a couple of bowls, maybe. Most of that was Clint’s.”
Hartley carries the bathroom box and sets it on my bed. He looks around the room and then turns to me. “Can I ask you something? And I don’t mean anything by it. I’m just curious.”
“I might not answer, but sure.”
“Where’s all your stuff?” he asks. “We’ll be in and out of here in an hour.”
I glance at the empty walls and closet and feel a slight pang in my chest. I’ve never realized how truly empty it was here. Maybe it’s because we’ve already packed so much of it away, but I see what he means.
I’ve always told myself that traveling light was practical. But standing here with Hartley, it feels more like proof that some part of me never expected to stay anywhere long enough to need more.
“I like to keep things light,” I say, smacking his ass as I head for my books. “It makes moving easier. You should be thanking me for that right about now.”
“Guess we won’t need to rent a trailer. Good thing I decided not to pull one of mine up here.” He picks up the bathroom box again. “Put another one on top of this, and I’ll carry them to the truck.”
I pick one up and place it where requested. “Do we need to tape these?”
“Nah. I’ll put my bed cover down, and it’ll be fine. It’s not supposed to rain for a few days.”
“Need me to get a door for you?”
“Nope. I got it.”
I tug my phone out again, find a name, and touch it. It rings twice before she picks up.
“You’d better have a good reason for calling me,” Lolly says. “I send you off with a hunk, and you’re calling your grandma.”
I laugh as a lightness settles over me. “That hunk is carrying stuff from my apartment to his truck.”
“How are things going?”
She says it innocently, like she isn’t prying for information—specifically, information about whether her little plan is working.
I’ve mostly understood what she was doing since the beginning. The way of going about it was suspect, but she had good intentions. And now that I’ve had a little time to breathe—and reflect on the other side of things—what she was doing is crystal clear.
I’m not sure what this will look like with Hartley in a year, but I know that I’m not going to stress about it. I worry too much, and that’s probably why I’m too scared to sit still for long periods of time. It gives me too much time to think.
But I have a feeling that even if I’m at Hartley’s with time on my hands, I won’t be alone. And that means I won’t have to deal with whatever’s in my head all by myself. Although I’m still not sure if I want to dig into those memories, I do know it feels less scary with Hartley.
I’m also pretty sure Lolly knew this. She must know that he needs me, too.
“Things are going good,” I say, fighting a lump in my throat. “But I’m calling just to say thank you.”
“For what, honey?”
Hartley comes in and stops in the doorway. Concern is written all over his handsome face.
“For this,” I say, as if that explains it all.
And maybe it does.
“Lolly, I need to go,” I say, as relief shadows Hartley’s face. “I love you.”
“I love you the mostest.”
Smiling, I end the call.
“Is everything okay?” Hartley asks, wrapping an arm around my shoulder.
I gaze up at him. “Do you think we could skip the hotel tonight and just go home?”
He answers that with a kiss. And that’s fine by me.
Because for the first time, I’m not packing to leave. I’m packing to begin.