“Oh, you better believe it. I’m the softest of them all. No woman of mine will ever not feel my love for them. Stella gets what Stella wants.”
Her laugh grows fuller. Louder. More vibrant. I want tobottle it up and save it for a day when the light dims. “Gotta spend all those millions somehow, I suppose.”
“Someone’s gotta do it.”
The frayed end of the paper catches my thumb, reminding me of its place in my hands. “May I?”
An intrigued nod answers me. “I’m ready.”
I unfold it carefully. “One thing you’ll hopefully come to learn about me is that I’m shit at communicating. I can hold a conversation easily, but when it comes to sharing how I feel or pieces of my life, I struggle with that. At least, I’ve always thought so.”
“I never would have guessed. You’ve always been so open with me.”
I ponder her observation. “I’m trying. I think that’s what I meant to say. It seems childish, but writing things down helps me. I process better by putting my thoughts and feelings on paper. I have ever since I was a kid. And seeing as how I’m not very experienced in the dating scene as of late, I thought maybe I’d try this with you. I don’t want the reason we don’t work out to ever be that I never shared enough. So, figured I’d start now.”
“Stetson, just the fact that you see me as someone to try with means everything. Even if we don’t know exactly whatthisis.” She points between us, and I hand her the note.
My heart beats rapidly in my chest, hoping my sentiment translates to her even while sharing the smallest of truths. “This is a piece of me,” I tell her as sincerely as my heart can express.
Today is the first day I found myself thankful for my wealth rather than ashamed. Money is the tool that brought me here…to you. I can’t be mad about that. I know I’m nothing like the men you serve in the air, but the stereotype is still there.
Everything I have is because my pops believed in me. That matters more to me than the money ever has. I’m his legacy. I just need someone to share it with.
I watch transfixed as Cove runs her thumb along the scribbling of my hand, freshly painted pink nails appearing almost neon against the black ink. “I think I’m gonna need notes and only notes like this from you moving forward.” She smiles softly, eyes still melting at my words. “It’s your legacy now,” she whispers.
I nod, unable to look away. “I’m not like them. It’s never been about the money and never will be. My pops came from nothing and raised me on the values of less is more. It took living without him for so long to learn for myself that he meant less things, more love. More of the people who benefit my life in an eternal way.”
I know Cove understands what I mean. I make it my life goal tonotbe like the douche bags of my same pay scale. I’m fortunate that living in Waterstone secludes me from high society. Ain’t a fat chance of seeing shit like that on my side of Texas.
Because on my ranch, I get to control the trajectory of my steps, and that’s a liberating feeling.
It’s when Cove’s eyes lift to mine that the goddamn somersaults erupt in my stomach. Never experienced them before. I’ve seen and heard butterflies described in movies or literature but never had the pleasure of letting them consume me.
Frankly, never knew I’d be so lucky.
“It’s hard for me to let men into my life. I think the more I push them away, the less appealing I become.Daddy issues, I suppose. So, thank you for sharing this piece of you, Stetson. You are a breath of fresh air.”
For someone who claims to be unable to give much right now, Cove has offered plenty to hold me over.
“I’ll give you enough for you to stay.”
Leaning forward and surprising me, Cove brushes her lips across my forehead, slow and steady. There’s something happening inside of me. I can’t think clearly enough right now to identify it, but a shift is on its way.
I want Cove Davenport.
Possibly more than I’ve ever wanted anything. And as unfamiliar and terrifying as that may sound, it’s about damn time I get it.
Time for this old buck to have the happy ending.
“How about we change out of these clothes, then go eat our body weight in deep-dish pizza? My treat.”
“Sounds glorious,” she moans, already standing to leave.
I place a wad of cash on the bar top and pop her tush, signaling for her to get a move on, but she stops short. “What is it?” I ask curiously.
“I think you should carry me. I mean, it would only make sense, seeing as how you’ve been nothing but a gentleman since I arrived. What do you say, Mr. Cole? Care to hold me?”
This woman. Do I ever.
