Forcing myself to cross the threshold, I close the door behind me. My feet move through the house as I bite the inside of my cheek, the wooden floor creaking beneath my feet.
This house is…
For lack of a better word.
Amazing.
But as amazing as it is, I just cannot picture the man who greeted me at the door actually living here, or rather, decorating it… because this looks like every farmhouse I’ve ever seen in a Hallmark movie.
Standing in the living room, I take in the floral sofa, the warm wooden end tables, and the matching coffee table. There is even a floral rug. I tear my gaze away from the floral, cluttered, amazing living room and look over to the door where the noise is coming from.
I make my way toward that door, but stop when it opens, and he is there, standing directly in front of me. Harlan Blackmoore. And he’s carrying a plate with a couple of sizzling steaks on it. The smells fill the air around me and make my stomach let out an ungodly loud noise.
“Have a seat,” he says, jerking his chin to the left, where there is a table and two place settings laid out.
“Mr. Blackmoore,” I mutter, unsure of what else to say or do.
“Harlan,” he grumbles.
He turns toward the table and walks over. I watch as he sets the steaks down, and then I take in the rest of the table. Thereare two potatoes, a bowl of something green, and bread rolls. It not only smells amazing, but it looks delicious, too.
I’ve never had a man cook for me in my life, but even if I did, I would never expect this.
“Come on. I know you’ve got to be starving.”
I am.
HARLAN
I watch as she sits down at her desk. Last night was a little awkward, but mostly becauseI’mawkward. I don’t date, can’t remember the last time I even had a meal with a woman alone.
I liked it, though, having her in my family home, sharing a meal, talking. Everything was surface-level, but that’s not a bad thing. She told me about her hometown, Marro. I’d never heard of it before, but when I came across her profile, I looked it up. It’s small, really fucking small.
I thought Granite Falls was minuscule, but we’re a thriving metropolis compared to Marro.
“So what is the most important thing I need to work on?” Lola-Mae asks.
Biting the inside of my cheek, I stare at her for a moment. She’s dressed in a pair of blue jeans and a tight shirt that’s tucked into the waistband. Her long dark hair is up on top of her head in a messy bun, and her green eyes are wide as she waits for my reply.
“Bills first,” I announce. “I think I’m late on a couple of things.”
“Bills first,” she repeats, nodding once in confirmation.
Pushing off the wall, I take a step toward the door. I can’t be in this room with her. I can’t be in this confined space where I keep getting whiffs of her shampoo.
I’ve never been so attracted to another person the way I am to her. I need some space. I need to breathe. I need to get my head on straight.
I need my cattle.
And I need my horse, Spirit.
“My cell number is on the desk there,” I say.
Lifting my hand, I extend my index finger to point at the bright-green sticky note where I scribbled my number. Then I walk out of the office and head straight outside to take care of my cattle, because at least I won’t fuck up when I open my mouth. They don’t give a shit what I say.
As I walk toward the barn, I decide to saddle my horse and check the fence line. I don’tneedto do that, but I need something to take my mind off the sexy little woman in my office. This was a mistake. I should have looked at her picture. Should have researched her a bit more.
I didn’t, and now her bedroom is just a few yards from mine. My cock is going to be in a constant state of erection. This can’t be good. I’m a thirty-five-year-old man. I should not be feeling these things, especially not for a twenty-four-year-old.
