He tilted his head. "How could I miss it, bud? I notice everything about you."
I sighed. "I believe you, but I don't want you to feel like I'm perving on you or anything either."
"But you're fine. None of that bothers me. You can look all you want. I wanted to be sure that you were not scared of me or intimidated in some way."
"It's not that at all," I clarified even more. "I still don't understand what's happening here."
"Here as in between us?" he asked.
"Yes," I said quickly. "It's confusing, and I want to be good. I want things, but I'm also a mess right now and that's not fair."
His hands squeezed me almost to the point of pain. My eyes widened because it was the first forceful type of thing he'd done with me. I didn't hate it, but I was also curious as to what made him shift.
"There's no need to be down on yourself about anything," Simon spoke firmly. "You wanted something, as did I. Communication is key in times like this. There's no way for either of us to know what the other wants if we don't stop to talk about it."
I gave him a firm nod. "Okay, that's fair. I don't want there to be anything between us that's bad."
He smiled. "Very good. I feel the same way. Now then, why don't we head downstairs and get some breakfast?"
"Sure, that sounds good," I agreed.
He tapped my hip—the clear signal for me to go. I left him behind in my room, wondering if I could have enough time while he was getting ready to dissect the entire interaction.
Because I felt like he just answered some questions I'd had, but I didn't know what those answers were. And I'm not sure if I have the courage to ask more questions today. I'm already confused enough.
Today turned out nothing like yesterday.
The morning was full of chaos—between animals attempting to get loose and the news of a storm rolling in and a couple of veterinary emergencies sending Griffin out into the cold, it seemed as if everything that could go wrong was going wrong.
Since I was an extra set of hands, I stepped in to be helpful. Of course, I knew my way around a ranch, having grown up in the area. I wasn't a stranger to manual labor, though I had gone the route of education. But when push came to shove, I was there with the best of them to lend a helping hand.
The only issue came when I realized I hadn't had lunch. I knew because my body made it clear that I had skipped out. Theloud grumble startled both me and the horse I was taking care of. I swear if it could talk, it would have raised its brow at me and shook its head like, "You foolish boy, how dare you not eat?"
Because I'm a bit of a glutton for punishment, I worked a little longer after that. It was only after Harlan appeared, bundled up and scowling, that I noticed the time again.
It was two o'clock in the afternoon and my body wasn’t going to let me skip another minute of eating.
"Harlan," I said as I set down the brush I'd been using. I closed the stall and walked over to where he was standing. "What are you doing out here?" I asked, since I knew for a fact he didn’t handle the outside chores. His domain was the kitchen, and he was damn proud of it.
He shook his head. "You never came to eat."
I frowned. "I'm sorry. I didn't know you would notice."
He huffed. "I notice when your Secret Santa made sure to get you something special, and you don't show up for it."
He extended his hands toward me, and I noticed then he had a thermos of something.
I took it from him and unscrewed the cap slowly. He watched, his arms crossed in that manner that intimidated a lot of people but only amused me. I've seen much scarier things in my years of practicing law. A grumpy ranch cook was nothing.
Inside the canister, I found a steaming hot liquid. I took a whiff and smiled. "It's soup. Minestrone."
It was my favorite.
Harlan knew because we once had a very in-depth discussion about soups. But why he made it for me was confusing.
Then I registered his words from before. He made it because my Secret Santa wanted it for me.
My eyes widened as I looked up at him. "You know who my Secret Santa is."
