I look around and take stock of everything here. It’s small, but when the work is done, I’m confident we can transform the cabin into a charming space that will bring flocks of customers here. The kitchen is directly to the left of the front door and is in an L-shape against the wall of the cabin. The dining room, which is just a small round table and two chairs with some cabinets behind it, sits connected to the kitchen. The living room is right of the front door. I walk past the dining room and see a small closet with a broom, a dustpan, and a trash can in it, all coated in a thick layer of dust. Lovely. The bathroom leaves a lot to be desired, it has a stand-up shower, the world's smallest vanity and a toilet that hopefully is in working condition.
I turn the outdated, gold knob and see brown water jet out of the faucet.
“You have got to be kidding me.” I wonder how long it's been since water has been ran here. I leave the faucet going, trying to clear up the water, and peek into the bedroom, stopping dead in my tracks.
There is a bed, alright, but no mattress. I run my hands through my hair as frustration bleeds out of me. I look around at my new room. There’s no bedside tables or dressers. Just a frame. My rage boils up inside me to the point where I feel like I might combust. What an ass. I was so nervous to see him again that I wasted so much time, constantly wondering about him and his life now. Before the breakup and after. I missed him so deeply it felt like my heart was physically breaking, but what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger and I’ll be damned if I make the mistake of trusting him again.
Well, I guess I will be adding a blow-up mattress to my shopping list, along with water, because there is no way in hell I will be drinking from that faucet until that water is tested by someone a hell of a lot more qualified than me.
Sweat drips down my brow, and I scrub the last bit of dust off the counter. It has been hours, hours that should have been spent working, but here we are. Sweaty, smelly, but at least this place is livable…ish. The water is running clear now. It only took an hour of running it nonstop, but at least now I should be able to shower, which is good because I smell like freshly boiled onions.
The only thing keeping me alive is the coffee I grabbed while in town. I had to dodge not one, but two of my old classmates. Dealing with people while I feel so…discombobulated takes more energy than I am willing to give. My high school English teacher, Mr. Warren, is now the cashier. Apparently, he got bored with retirement. I didn’t even have to ask. He gave me a vivid, unprompted retelling of the last twelve years of his life.
No one randomly talks to you like that in New York, at least not anywhere I have been. They’ll answer questions, sure, but not give you a PowerPoint on how their life has led them to that exact spot.
Now that all my housework is done, I should call Josh. We spoke briefly when I landed, and he said he would call me back as soon as he could, but it’s now Ten PM in New York. I track down my phone by following the music blasting from it, and press pause before dialing his number.
It rings and rings until finally, he picks up. “Hello?” His voice sounds like I just woke him up.
“Were you sleeping?”
“Yeah, I went to bed an hour ago. I texted you goodnight.” He sounds almost annoyed.
“Oh, sorry, I was, erm, working. I haven’t checked my texts.” I don’t think I want to tell him the extent of the situation. He knows I’m working on the ranch and he knows Weston is my ex from high school. He’s probably assuming Weston meant nothing because I never brought him up before. At least that’s the only thing I could come up with for how nonchalant he’s been about the whole thing.
“It’s fine. Did you need something?”
I didn’t need anything, I just wanted to hear his voice and fill him in on some of my day, but I guess I can just do that another time. I knowhe’s strict about his sleep schedule. “Nope, just was calling to check in. You can call me back tomorrow.”
“Okay, I’ll talk to you then.”
I go to reply, but the other end of the line goes dead. I pull the phone away from my ear to see our phone call information coming across the screen. Thirty-two whole seconds of talking. And not even anI love youbut he’s probably just tired from work. I know my brain is fried.
Guess it’s time to see what this blow-up mattress can do.
Chapter 5
Weston
Taking a long draw of my coffee, I skip breakfast at my parents’ house again. I texted my mom last night to let her know I was going to work early, but in reality I'm not ready to tell people who’s here. I'm not even sure if I've come to terms with it, seeing her here, on this ranch, again. They’ll all know by the end of the day, someone will see her, and it’ll spread like wildfire, but for now it’s my secret.
Coffee isn’t enough this morning, I need something stronger. I tried to convince myself that I’d be fine, but no matter how many scenarios I went through, there wasn’t a single one where this wouldn’t be the hardest three months of my life. I’ve missed her every second of every day she has been gone, and now that she’s here, just out of my grasp, it’s going to feel like constant torment.
When I open the door to the office, I stop dead in my tracks. Willow sits at my desk going through pages of paperwork. She looks lost in her own little world, so I stay back and just watch her. Her brow furrows as she looks between two pieces of paper, and I'm suddenly glad it’s not just me that this paperwork frustrates the shit out of.
It’s almost bizarre seeing her in business attire here on the ranch, the family and ranch hands always wear clothes made for getting dirty. In fact, I don’t think I’ve even seen my mom in a dress. At this point I think that she was born in blue jeans. It’s hard to have objections when the pink blouse gives me a perfect view of just a hint of cleavage. Andnow I feel like a complete creep gawking at my ex-girlfriend's turned business associate’s tits. God, I have to get a grip.
Before I can humiliate myself, I tap my knuckles against the door frame, letting her know I'm here. She startles and the paper in her hand goes flying. I try and fail miserably to choke back the laugh. The glare she shoots me does no good to stop the laughter because she looks too damn cute when she’s mad, always has.
I hold my hands up in front of me, indicating I mean no harm. “Good morning. Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“Sure you didn’t. I was just trying to get a head start on the back office work. My original plan was to knock this out before starting the work on the cabins but I’m realizing it’ll be better to work in sync so we stay on schedule.” She tidies up a stack of papers, holding them in her hand and tapping them against the desk to straighten them up. “Do you have a few minutes to touch base before I make some calls?” She tucks a piece of her perfectly curled hair behind her ear and I find myself getting lost in her beauty again.
She clears her throat, a reminder that she asked me a question and I realize I need to answer her. “Right, sorry, I’ve only had one coffee today, and it clearly didn’t do its job,” I offer lamely as an explanation for zoning out. “I have some free time this morning to help with whatever you need.” My words come out rushed and even I can hear how idiodic I sound.
She raises her eyebrows and studies me carefully with those keen green eyes. I can practically hear her thinking about how fucking strange I’m behaving this morning. Trust me, if there were a manual for ‘How to be around your ex who you secretly still love,’ I’d be the first tobuy it.
“Okay, first on the agenda, are there any contractors who you are against working with?” she asks as she reaches around to her bag and pulls out her laptop.
