by Ali Parker
“I’m sorry. I truly am. I know how much you cared and respected Oliver. He thought of you like a daughter. When we talked about his last wishes, he talked a lot about you. I can’t give you the details of our conversations, but I can tell you he struggled with his decision. He trusted you implicitly with that farm. He knew you would do right by it and the land. His decision was a difficult one, but he felt he owed it to his grandson to give him one last shot.”
His statement only served to heighten my curiosity. “Harvey, a hint. That’s all I need. A last shot at what?”
He smiled before getting up from the table. “Take care of yourself, Alex. Don’t take this the wrong way, but I hope we won’t have to talk again on a professional level.”
I slowly nodded. “I understand. I hope not either.”
I watched him walk away, left with about a million questions. If he came to me again, as Oliver’s lawyer, that meant Damion had done something to forfeit his right to the farm. I couldn’t begin to guess what Damion had riding on the farm. Did he have some outstanding debts? My mind raced with some very wild scenarios. Each of them more absurd than the first.
I hated to think my initial opinion of Damion had been accurate. I knew he was holding back. I knew there was more to his story than what he had told me. I had sensed it while we were fishing. He was restless, like he couldn’t get settled. He had admitted he wasn’t sure he wanted to stick around, which meant he wasn’t sure he wanted the farm.
“What the hell?” I muttered, suddenly no longer hungry.
I got up from the table, leaving my half-eaten sandwich, and walked to the register to pay. I walked out of the diner and thought about driving out to the farm and asking Damion directly. I couldn’t do that. I didn’t want to get Harvey in any trouble for telling me as much as he had.
I wasn’t sure I could sit around and wait to see what happened either. I wasn’t a patient person. I wasn’t the type that waited long for people to prove they weren’t worthy. Sadie had told me on many occasions I could be judgmental. I made snap character evaluations based on very little information. I was trying to change, but now I was beginning to think it was a sixth sense. Instead of trying to ignore it, I should rely on it.
I could have saved myself a lot of wasted energy by sticking with my initial assessment of Damion’s character. I wouldn’t be in this position of waiting for my heart to get broken. I wouldn’t be thinking about what my life would be like without him in it. Without Oliver in it.
That was the problem, I decided as I climbed into my truck. Oliver had triggered my biological clock. Hanging out with the two of them had given me a taste of what it was like to have a family. I knew they weren’t my family, but it felt good to be hugged by a little guy. I hadn’t even known I had wanted that in my life until I met Oliver.
“Dammit, Damion,” I growled, throwing the truck in drive. “Why can’t you just be who I want you to be?”
I knew it was a ridiculous demand, but I hated feeling like I was in the dark. I liked cut and dry. I liked knowing where I stood with someone. I was going to have to talk to Damion. I needed to put the brakes on whatever was happening between us and find out what was really going on before I completely lost my heart to him.
I drove home and decided to do a little snooping. I grabbed my laptop and entered Damion’s name into the search bar, hoping to find some damning evidence against him. I was looking for a reason to walk away. If I had a good reason for leaving him and Oliver, I could move on without looking back. I wouldn’t have to think about what could have been or worry I had made the wrong decision.
“Well, aren’t you squeaky clean?” I groaned when my search turned up nothing.
Chapter 39
Damion
I had my earbuds in, listening to one of my favorite podcasts from back home while I rode around on the tractor taking care of the fence. It was mildly relaxing to be completely alone, working without anyone expecting anything of me. I didn’t have a deadline. I didn’t have twenty people depending on me to tell them what to do and how to do it. I tried to tell myself it was a lifestyle I could get used to with some time.
Something in my peripheral vision caught my eye. I turned my head to see Alex’s truck headed toward the house. I smiled, happy to see her. I checked the time and decided there was enough time for some afternoon delight before I had to go pick up Oliver. I lifted the neckline of my T-shirt and gave it a good sniff. I didn’t stink.
I hadn’t been doing anything especially strenuous and hadn’t broken a sweat. I turned the tractor, steering it back to the house to meet her. I was looking forward to a steamy kiss and hopefully a little bit of hot sex. It had been too long. My body craved her. Just thinking about burying my cock in her wet heat was making me hard.
I parked the tractor and walked toward her. She was leaned up against the hood of her pickup truck, watching me. It wasn’t the kind of look that said she stopped by for a quickie. It was that look that said you’re in trouble.
“Good morning,” I said, stopping in front of her. I wanted to kiss her, but there was a hands-off vibe coming off her.
“Good morning,” she said, her eyes shielded by her sunglasses.
“What brings you by?” I asked.
She shrugged. “I talked with Harvey Larson yesterday,” she said.
The name sounded familiar, but it didn’t immediately register who he was. “Oh?” I said, not admitting I didn’t know who it was.
“Oliver’s lawyer,” she reminded me.
“Oh,” I said, realization dawning. “I remember him.”
“As I said, we had a little conversation about you and the farm and your grandfather.”
I nodded. There was no way Harvey would have mentioned the inheritance to her. If he had, it would be a pretty big offense. I knew it was small-town rules but blabbing about a client’s personal matters was still unethical. I didn’t get the impression he was the kind to gossip anyway. “And how did that conversation go?” I asked, knowing she was trying to get at something.
I certainly wasn’t going to reveal anything. It wasn’t any of her business. Not yet. If things changed between us and she was interested in something more serious, then I would obviously tell her about the sizable inheritance, but not until then. No one knew. No one except me and Harvey. Justin knew of the money, but not how much. I knew there was no way anyone would ever guess my grandfather was sitting on that kind of a fortune.
“Well, to be honest, I’m not sure how it went,” she said.
I looked up at the sun, feeling the heat and not appreciating it. “Do you want some lemonade? Soda? I’m hot and need to get out of the sun for a bit and I could really use a drink.”
She shrugged. “Fine.”
I had no idea what her deal was. “What’s going on, Alex? You seem pissed. Did I do something to piss you off? I promise you I’ve been doing nothing but working and sleeping since I’ve seen you last.”
“I’m not pissed,” she said, going through the front door.
I followed behind her. “Something’s got you bothered. What did Harvey say that has gotten you, not pissed, but disturbed.”
She sat down at the table. I grabbed two cans of Pepsi and put them on the table before grabbing some glasses and filling them with ice and carrying them to the table. We both popped the cans open and filled the glasses. I waited for her to talk. I had been married before, although briefly. I knew a woman needed some time to work up to what she wanted to say. I knew she’d beat around the bush and not say it directly.
At least, that was what I had thought.
“He told me you had a lot riding on this farm. Making it work on this farm.”
That was pretty direct. It was oddly refreshing. I wasn’t the least bit put off by what could have come off as slightly brusque. “I do.”
“How so?” she pressed.
I shrugged. “It’s my grandfather’s farm. It means a lot. I don’t want to fail.”
She frown
ed, clearly not buying my reasoning. “Harvey made it seem like something bigger. Like something more tangible.”
Harvey was going to get an earful. “It’s nothing really,” I insisted.
I could see her staring into my very soul, searching for the truth. I couldn’t explain why I didn’t want her to know about the inheritance. Part of me felt like an asshole for wanting to collect it. I was sure she would think that was the only reason I had come home. Then there was that part of me, the part I didn’t like very much, that had come home for that reason exactly. A nest egg could mean a huge difference in Oliver’s life. I could afford to send him to that Ivy League school. I could afford to put him in a private school back in New York.
I could afford to breathe a little. I wasn’t too proud to admit a little money would definitely be a nice thing to have. Who in their right mind would turn down millions of dollars?
“I don’t get it,” she said, shaking her head. “Oliver was a simple man. He lived simply, splurged on nothing, and only had the land to claim as his own. Besides the truck outside and that stupid tractor. What could be riding on all that?”
I shrugged. “I’m not sure.” I hated lying. I felt like such an asshole for lying. “Maybe he was referring to me being here and reconnecting with my past.”
“How so?”
“I don’t know for sure. I got the impression my grandfather and Harvey were pretty close. I’m sure my grandfather filled him in on all the horrors of me living in the city. He wanted me back here.”
She smiled. “Possibly. You never accepted his offer to come home before. Why now? What changed?”
“He died,” I answered honestly. “He died and left me the farm.”
She took a drink. “Were you two on the outs? Did you have a falling out? I guess that would explain why you stayed away for so long.”
“We didn’t have a falling out in a sense of a big explosive argument. It was just—I don’t know. We had different ideas about what my life should be like. I loved the city. He wanted me home. After I had Oliver, he assumed I would come back home. To me, it felt like I was giving up. It felt like I would be coming home with my tail tucked between my legs, waiting for my grandpa to fix everything like he always did. Then, it just kind of became a thing. We talked less and less, and he visited almost never. I loved him. I know he loved me. We were two stubborn men, both set in our ways. If I would have known—”
“I know,” she said, her voice soft and her eyes filled with understanding. “I get it. I’m sorry I pressed.”
“When Harvey showed up in my office and told me he had left me the farm, my initial reaction was to sell it. I won’t deny it. I had no intention of coming home. Then, I got home late that night. Oliver had a rough day at school and needed me and I wasn’t there for him. It was like being hit with the obvious. I realized I could come back to the farm, spend more time with Oliver, and hopefully give him the attention he needed.”
She smiled. “Everything happens for a reason.”
I nodded. “I hate that he’s gone. I hate it so much but coming out here has changed my life. It’s changed Oliver’s life—for the better. I want to make it work here. Having you here gives me even more of a reason.”
I saw the look on her face. She looked like she’d sucked on a lemon while smelling a nasty fart. I had no idea the thought of being with me could cause such a reaction. It wasn’t exactly an ego boost. She wiped away the expression and offered a smile. “It’s worth it if you want to put in the work.”
I wasn’t sure if she was talking about me wanting her or me wanting the farm. Both would require work. I wasn’t sure what my future held, but I believed in giving a hundred and ten percent on everything. While I was undecided, I would give the farm and her my all. I would fight to make it work. If it didn’t, then I could walk away knowing I tried. I would have to assume fate had something else in store for me.
“I was thinking about going for a ride,” I said. “Would you like to come along?”
“A ride?” she questioned.
I laughed. “Horseback riding. I went on a couple of test rides the last few days, but don’t tell Oliver. He is chomping at the bit to get in the saddle. I figure I better know what I’m doing before I try and teach him.”
She laughed, her eyes dancing with amusement. “I think I’d like to see you on horseback.”
“Hey, I’m not that terrible at it. I do all right.”
“Then I’d love to go for a ride,” she said.
I took care of our empty glasses before we walked out to the barn. I hoped I had satisfied her curiosity without revealing the inheritance. She’d find out soon enough. In the meantime, I wanted to see where things went with her. I knew she was skittish. I wanted to believe I knew her character well enough to know she wouldn’t want to be with me simply because I was a multimillionaire. Unfortunately, that much money changed people. I didn’t want the size of my bank account being the thing that persuaded her I was worth committing to.
“I trust you know how to ride,” I teased.
“I can ride,” she said, that familiar innuendo back in her tone. “I think I’ve proven that already.”
My cock jerked. I pushed away the urge to throw her up against the wall. Slow. I had to take it slow. I had to woo her. Banging her up against the wall whenever the desire hit me was not exactly romantic.
We saddled the horses before climbing on. I wasn’t quite as graceful as I would have liked, but it was a work in progress. Soon enough, I’d be throwing a leg over and mounting with one smooth move. For now, it was a bit labored and anything but smooth.
Once I adjusted everything in the saddle, I looked up to find her watching me. “Find something amusing?” I asked.
She burst into laughter. “I was just wondering if you were going to make it. I think there’s a stool in here somewhere we could have brought out.”
“Very funny. I’m up.”
One pretty dark brow arched upward. “Are you?”
“I’m always up when you’re around,” I told her, before gently spurring my horse on. I left her with that little tidbit of information. I didn’t care if she knew I wanted her. The trick was not to act on it.
Chapter 40
Alex
Watching him ride a horse was doing something for my libido that wasn’t healthy. I had seen plenty of men riding a horse, but watching Damion do it was making me feel very wet. Despite his initial awkwardness, he rode with grace and ease. He looked like he had been riding all his life. Technically, he had ridden the first half of his life.
“Did you and Oliver ride a lot?” I asked him as our horses enjoyed a lazy trot along a trail that would lead us out to public lands.
“We did when I was younger. Usually on the weekends, we’d go for a nice, long ride. Sundays, really. Sundays were the day he kind of took a step back. We had to get up early and get chores done, but then the rest of the day we kind of took it easy.”
I smiled, picturing the two of them riding and spending time together. “I think this is something Oliver would really enjoy.”
“I think so too,” he replied. “I’m not ready to take him on any trails. He needs to learn to ride first.”
“I’m happy to help,” I offered.
He looked over and smiled. I felt a tug in my belly. His sunglasses gave him a very movie-star look, but the easy way he sat in the saddle, holding the reins in one hand with his wrist relaxed, was all cowboy. I was dying to touch him. I wanted to go for a ride on him. I bit my lip, feeling my breath hitch as I watched him.
“I might take you up on that. I think you’d probably be a better teacher than I.”
“I don’t know about that. You seem to be doing just fine.”
He chuckled, turning to face forward again. “I’m doing fine now, but it wasn’t quite so pretty the first few runs.”
“I bet it was cute.”
“Cute isn’t the word I would use. Where did you learn to ride?”
I smiled. “I kind of taught myself.”
“Did you have horses growing up?”
I flinched. I never talked about my past. I didn’t like to think about it. It was the past for a reason. “Yes.”
He laughed. “That’s not a lot to go on. Did you have one, two, ten?”
“We had one. She was a working horse. At least, she started out that way but I kind of took over her care and decided she was too sweet to be a working horse.”
“What kind of a working horse?” he asked.
“We had a small ranch. Very small. Unfortunately, it wasn’t well taken care of and we were always losing our cattle.”
“Cattle?” he said.
“Yep. A few.”
“Is your family ranch around here?”
I laughed. It was a sardonic laugh. “No. Not anymore. My dad was a drunk. He drank himself into an early grave and it didn’t take long for my mother to follow him.”
“I’m sorry.”
I scoffed. “Don’t be. Neither one of them would win any parents of the year awards. They were hateful people. They hated each other and I think because I was a product of their misguided, somewhat forced union, they hated me.”
“Wow. I didn’t know. I’m sorry.”
I shook my head. “It isn’t a big deal. You lost both your parents when you were young. I lost mine before I was born. They didn’t want me. They couldn’t handle a kid. My dad relied on me to take care of the ranch when he was too hungover to do it himself. In a way, I am glad he was such a loser.”
“Why are you glad about that?” he asked incredulously.
“Because it taught me to be strong. I’ve been taking care of myself for a long time. My dad’s father, he tried to help. He’d lecture my dad about drinking too much, but my dad was a stubborn drunk. My mom, I think she probably could have been different had she not married him. It was a shotgun wedding, if you know what I mean. I was born six months after they were married.”