Chapter 8
REMY
The drive to the other farm is beautiful, filled with cornfields, soft, breezy clouds and wonderful conversation.
This time my story is that my childhood horse's name was Unicorn. Unicorn only had a horn on my birthday, thanks to my dad strapping on some homemade contraption.
The farmer was thrilled to be rid of the horse, who appeared downright delighted to saunter into our waiting trailer.
I still can't believe that he took me in when I was desperate. Every time I think about looking up bus schedules and how to get home, I just stop. I don't want to leave. The thought of going back to that grungy dark space all alone makes me shiver.
My fingers drum on the edge of the open window as Stone drives slowly along a back road, taking a slightly different route back to the ranch. It's not just the space that I don’t want to leave. I don't want to leave him. He’s incredible.
He doesn't seem to realize that he's stunningly gorgeous, or that his life is a dream – calm, meaningful work, never having to worry about money. He has his entire life all figured out.
I'm not jealous, exactly. I just…want that too.
At the next four-way stop, I see a hand-painted sign that makes me bolt upright. "What is it?" Stone asks.
"Um." I hesitate. I don't want Unicorn to be in the trailer any longer than necessary.
He looks around, then sees the sign for Tiny Tim's Tiny Houses. "Oh! Yes, you mentioned tiny houses. Let's go take a look."
My hand tugs at his arm. "We shouldn't waste time with a horse in the trailer. And I don't want to take you out of your way."
"Baby." He turns to run his thumb across my cheek. "It's not too hot today. Unicorn will be just fine. And I will drive to the ends of the Earth for you."
Something shifts, as if my anxious heart had been sitting too high in my chest but has just dropped an inch so it's in the right place. "If you don't mind, yes, please.”
He leans over to kiss me, the gentle touch sending tendrils of warmth curling through my chest, my lips, my mind.
Stone is so dedicated to giving me everything I could possibly need.
Some men buy flowers and jewelry. This man simply looks into my eyes and somehow teases out the things I can't quite say. That’s far more valuable to me.
Three minutes later, we pull into a long driveway, and I gape in delight at the row of eight tiny houses.
The owner comes out as I jump out of the truck.
For the next twenty minutes, I completely geek out with Tim, talking about the best places to park tiny homes, how the sewage systems work, tips to find good water hookups, weatherproofing, landscaping, and more.
I appreciate that Tim speaks directly to me and only addresses Stone when he asks a couple of questions about structure and heating.
I feel a little awkward talking about the money angle in front of Stone, but speaking with Tim directly is much more interesting than emailing a bunch of different companies for quotes.
He confirms that the kind of house I’m looking for will be about fifty thousand dollars and is excited for me when I tell him proudly that I have over thirty grand saved, and should have the rest of the money, plus more for furnishings, within three or four years.
I take notes on my phone for the websites he says specialize in compact and custom-built furniture.
Then I'm finally able to tour a home similar to the one I've been planning to get. It’s a little crowded when Stone comes in too, so Tim waits outside with the door open.
"This table is also a perfect desk." I test it by swinging the wall-mounted table from the kitchen chair around to the built-in sofa.
"You could work right beside a wide-open screen door," Stone says, smiling as he raises his eyebrows. “Fresh air and daylight."
"You bet," Tim chimes in. "And assuming you're parked on land where you'll be staying for at least the season, you could even get a handful of patio stones and a couple of planters. Boom – work in your new outdoor space whenever you like and have Mother Nature as your office-mate."
I take some photos and his business card, and thank him for the tour. Once we're driving again, Stone slowly sips his coffee, then nods as we turn onto a larger highway. "I can see the appeal. That place was pretty cute."
"Yeah.” My fingers are twisting in on themselves again. “I mean, it’s nothing compared to your house. I'm sure you think it's silly."
He grabs my hand. "No, baby." He slows down so he can look right into my eyes. “I would never think your dreams are silly."
He's so serious as he reaches his hand into the back of my hair to caress my neck.
"I want all of your dreams to come true, no matter what they are." He smiles, then retracts his hand so he can speed up again. "It’s admirable for you to have this concrete goal and so much money saved at your age. I’m just curious why you’re so dedicated to the idea. "
It's like a dam breaking.
"I was kicked out on my own so suddenly," I begin.
"I doubt my mother would help me even if she could.
My aunt is a flake and said I could only stay for six days max without explaining why.
I'm basically alone in the world.” My breath is unsteady.
“That’s why I'm always worried about the future and need to prepare for the worst-case scenario. There’s nobody to bail me out.
Even if I had money in the bank, a landlord could kick me to the curb because he wanted to give the place to his kid, or a family of tap dancers could move in upstairs and I wouldn't be able to work.
With a tiny house, I would have my own place.
Permanently. And proper space between me and other people, not just thin apartment walls. "
"I get that," Stone murmurs, nodding.
"Plus, it's an investment. Sure, I might be paying for water and sewage and renting the land, but it would be less than apartment rent, so I can save for the future.
And it's such a small space that I would never be tempted to buy anything large.
I don't spend money on things. I want to save every penny for my future and my freedom.
" A slow breath calms me slightly. "It's like I could finally unclench, you know? Feel that I've succeeded at life."
He nods slowly. "I think I understand. It's a symbol." His hand lands on my knee again, and I feel another wash of this instant connection between us.
"This might sound crass," he says softly, "but when I made my first million, that was a symbol to me that I had, as you put it, won at life.
But I didn't like who I'd become, so I ran away.
" He chuckles, shaking his head at the memory.
"New town, new people, invested in this ranch, built my house.
Now I just live on the income and never think about money.
" He looks at me sideways. "Except when I'm buying animals, of course. "
"Even I, as an almost pathologically frugal person, think that buying abandoned animals is a completely worthy expense. That is the time to splurge, in my books."
"For my part, I'd like to splurge on taking a lovely woman out to dinner tomorrow night."
"You want to be seen in public with me?"
"I want to show my beautiful girl off to the world so everyone knows they shouldn’t be hitting on her." He flashes me a cheeky grin. "It's a dude thing, sorry. Is that so bad?"
I grin. “Not at all."
How does he make me feel so special through the smallest things? From the second Stone met me, he has treated this lonely girl like his absolute treasure.