Jade smirks. "It means that she's onto you."
I feel bad that these girls can smell a rat. What if Shelly is a decent person and we've read her all wrong?
"Before y'all start thinking that we're wrong, Levi, just remember that this is the woman that blurted out in a restaurant that she's pregnant with your child. And without telling you first, I'll add. In anyone's books, that's slimy." Jade comments.
I've heard enough. My head is swimming. "I've got to go. It's been a long day."
"Sure has. Y'all have a good rest, Levi." Piper pats me on the back.
I walk out of the house and over to the resort. When I walk past the guest rooms and head towards my room, I notice that there's a package leaning on my door. It's my drafting table. Disassembled, of course, but it's here. The smile is unavoidable. Slipping inside my room, I pull the package into the spot where I'd been planning to put it up. Admittedly, my room is a suite, and a large one at that. Billy has been kind enough to give it to me, with the understanding that if someone needs it, that I'm to vacate immediately. This is why he wants to build a bunkhouse, for all intents and purposes. The picture is hanging on the wall, on a ledge, by the fireplace.
It's stunning.
It reminds me of her.
It makes me picture her lying on the grass, where I found her, when she was originally taking the shot. The first time I saw her. The moment that my life changed. The moment that I started to notice something more. Something much more. As I set my drafting table up, my mind wanders to her, not to the woman who is carrying my baby. I can't help it. And I don't try to, either. While I'm alone, and nobody is here to judge me, I can think about her all I want. Once the table is up, I start to draft with the rudimentary skills that I've garnered so far. It's basically the bones of my dream house. There is no detail yet, but it's something. It's not grand or ornate, but it's unique, with a cobblestone driveway and a wraparound porch. Something my mama always wanted, but my daddy never got around to making for her. I keep drawing and drawing, not even realizing what time it is until I wake up with my face plastered to the paper.
Luckily, I only drooled on it in one spot, and it’s well away from the markings. As I lie in bed, the moment I close my eyes, it’s her face that I see. I can’t stop thinking about her. I should be ashamed of myself. I’m an expectant father with another woman, yet I have eyes for someone else. I make up my mind just to be friends with Lennie. Nothing more. As difficult as that will be, for now, it’s the only answer. Correction, it’s the only answer that won’t cause me to run my family name through the mud even further than my daddy has. I’m sure that Lennie wouldn’t appreciate being the other woman, either.
Between my brothers and the ranch hands, right now I’m a laughingstock. It’s just a matter of time before word gets around town, if it isn’t already. It’s just thank God that Shelly is in Dallas, and not Copper Cove. That extinguishes the fire somewhat, but it’s not enough. It’s my job to keep my nose clean and save Lennie’s reputation. For a moment, I can’t help but think about that ring. Shelley's engagement ring andwedding band that sat in her bathroom the whole time, only to be removed just days ago. I can’t figure that out. There are no strange men claiming to be Shelley's husband coming to my door, threatening my life, but I can’t be sure that that isn’t on the way.
Ever since I met Lennie, I feel it in my bones that Shelly is bad news. Whether it’s my mind just playing tricks on me, or what, I don’t know. Usually, when either Piper, Jade or Crystal talk things out with me, things are clearer. But not this time. I don’t know what that means. The only thing that I am sure of is that I don’t love Shelly. Before I met Lennie, I wasn’t sure, but now that I have met that beautiful person, it’s crystal clear. I roll over in bed, and look at my phone, which reads that it’s an ungodly hour. Sleepless nights are in my future, that’s for sure. I need to talk to Shelly. I need to know where she’s at. Does she want to keep the baby? Does she want to give it up for adoption? Does she want to give it up for good? And is she still married? These questions roll around inside my conscience like a game of Russian roulette.
That’s when I feel it. Her hand, her soft, warm hand and her nimble fingers, skating down my chest, as I stifle a gasp in the darkness. Her lips touch mine, and I devour her. Her tongue is as sweet as candy, her lips are soft as silk, and her breathing, God, her breathing. This woman is starved for me. Her blonde hair is like feathers as she trails kisses down my neck, down my chest, and then her mouth, God, her mouth, it’s like a slice of heaven. I don’t realize the intensity until my knuckles burst as I grasp the sheets tightly.
It’s like I’m possessed. It’s like she’s possessed. My dick wants more, but my brain is telling me to slow down. I don’t want this moment to end. Her moans against my cock increase the pleasure. It’s almost too much. The thought of sinking myself into her is so delicious, but I’m paralyzed. It’s like she has fullcontrol over my body and is loving every moment of it. Her hands and mouth are so expert, it’s like she’s reading my mind, knowing the perfect pace, the precise amount of suction, like we’ve practiced this a million times before.
I should be a gentleman. I should reciprocate. And I will. The only thing that seems hotter than this moment, is hearing Lennie cry out, begging me to stop or not to stop. I feel my cock touch the back of your throat, and it twitches, letting me know that this is it. Somehow, once again, this incredible woman reads my mind. She sucks, harder and faster, making it impossible to turn back, and I let go. I can feel the veins in my neck popping out as I empty myself into her mouth.
I wake up to the sound of my own voice, as I groan, soaking the sheets, soaking my hand, and I feel like I need to go and soak my head because of what just happened. If I wasn’t the laughingstock before, I certainly will be now. Especially once the maids find out about this mess. I’ll never live it down. Sure, it’s a part of life, but I’m kidding myself if I think that they’ll see it that way. Before I met Shelly, I was single. This was all I ever knew. I learned how to do laundry almost as early as I learned how to ride a horse.
I make up my mind to pick up the sheets, take them home, and clean them myself. It’s an easier lie than the truth. But, suddenly I realize, that after this, I’m going to have to make up a trail of lies to get out of the trouble that I’m in now.
Chapter 8
Lennie
Ican’t decide if I like the photograph better as an oil painting, or as a portrait, like most of the others. Like the one that Levi purchased from me. It came out perfectly. The way I figured it would. The whole batch of them, that is. Secretly, I develop the ones that I took of Levi and me. In another lifetime, under different circumstances, we would make the perfect couple. His blonde, soft features, complementing mine. His large, burly body, juxtaposed behind my petite frame. But it's not just that. It's the way he looks when he's in front of thelens with me. Well, maybe it's not just with me, maybe he's just incredibly photogenic. I'll never know unless I see him in other photographs. So, I hop on social media, in hopes that he's got a profile somewhere.
He does.
There are tons of pictures that he's posted of horses and nature. Some of them are even portrait worthy. He's listed the ranch as his place of employment, so I know that he must be on social media regularly. There aren't any pictures of him except for one of him holding a fish in the air, one evidently that he just caught. Even digging back years, it's just random pictures here and there of him with various horses and nature. It says a lot about him. After giving up on Facebook, I head over to Instagram. There is still nothing there but repeats of some of the photographs from Facebook. But, then I find something interesting. It seems that Levi has more than one social media account. The first one I found was just using his first and last name. But the second one I find, he's listed himself on Facebook as 'The Jeans Guy', giving a nod to his name.
That's where I find it. He's been tagged in a photo with a girl by the name of Shelly Givens. She's taken a selfie of the two of them, in what appears to be a backdrop of a backyard, and he's not even looking at the camera. It's almost like she took it without his knowledge. She does not look like his type. For starters, she's at least a decade older than him, if I were to guess, and she looks kind of rough around the edges. She's blonde but not a natural one, and her haircut looks homespun. The wrinkles at the edges of her eyes aren't from smiling happily, as the shot shows her with a blank face, and a fake smile. Like she's one of them types that puts on a show for social media. One of them annoying ones that makes like her life is so goddamn perfect.
Levi looks lost. I'm guessing that this is before she got pregnant, or before they knew, anyway. I find myself staring atthe photo and wanting so badly to post the picture of us on my social media page. If I'm evil, I'd do it, and I'd tag him, too. But I won't. Jealousy does not suit me well. My gaze goes from one screen to the next, comparing the photographs, mentally patting myself on the back, even though I know that he's not mine. But I can pretend. That's all I've ever known. That's probably all I ever will know, and I'm okay with that. I've been blessed with so much more in my life, that whether or not I find someone to love for real, is irrelevant.
And just as I'm about to do something stupid, and actually post something on my private Facebook page about a new friend, my phone vibrates in my pocket. I see that it's Trisha and she's at the door, even though I closed hours ago. She sure knows where to find me. If I'm not home, where else would I be? I let her inside. "What are you up to?"
It's always her first line.
"I was just working on some pictures I took earlier. It's so late. Why aren't you home in bed?"
She shrugs. "You know me."
Trisha is a night owl. But it infuriates me, because she can function on like three hours of sleep, whereas I'm a zombie with less than seven. Tomorrow, I open late and stay open late, so I can get away with it. She sees the picture of me and Levi still up on the screen. Her face says it all. Eyes bright, hands on cheeks, mouth wide open. "Oh my God! Are you two dating? This is so exciting!"
"No, we're not dating, and it's never going to happen, either, so stop getting your hopes up."
