He lets out a soft laugh, or something like it. A raspy, almost happy sound, so I’ll call it laughter. And I want more of it. I want a full one. I bet this man’s keeping them buried deep within him, and the day he lets himself face the sun and let them out will be the day the whole world starts spinning again.
“To be fair, you’re obnoxiously happy and sassy, so I wasn’t expecting that.”
I shrug. “I try.”
“What?”
“To be happy!” The corner of my lip tugs. “Sassy is a birth defect, I fear.”
He shakes his head. “Not a defect. Trust me.”
See? This is my problem. He’s all rough around the edges and withdrawn, but then he says little things like that. He can’t mean them the way my mind is taking them, but I’m so starved for praise, I’ll take all the crumbs I can get.
“Why are you freaking out over Lilly?”
Freaking out? That’s cute. More like unraveling. I let out a sigh. “How much of a trauma dump do you want at—” I check my watch, “eight in the morning?”
“I’m no stranger to trauma.”
“So all of it? None of it? Speak your mind, cowboy.”
He grunts, making me laugh. He’s so irascible, pushing his buttons will become my favorite hobby. I lift my hands in defeat. “Not a cowboy, I know, I know.”
He takes a sip of his coffee, wincing for a second before softening his features. “What’s wrong with your coffee?”
“Don’t change the topic,” he replies, setting his mug down and stabbing his biscuit with his fork.
Lainey’s coffee is incredible, so I don’t get it, but none of my business, I guess. “I was supposed to meet with her, and I missed it because I fell asleep. Which is not usual for me.”
“If it’s not usual for you, she will understand.”
I shake my head. “Oh no, no. Me missing things is one hundred percent on brand for me. The falling asleep part is not.”
“Oh?”
“I’m trying to prove to her I can take on responsibilities and do hard things, but it’s hard if I keep fucking up when I’m supposed to show up for her.”
“When did you fuck up?”
“Were you not hearing me? I missed our meeting.”
“A meeting. One. She’ll be fine. Just explain.”
If it were any other person, yeah, sure, she would be. But it’s not just this. It’s years and years and years of mess-ups that have drained the giant bucket of patience she was given at birth. There’s only so much people can take before they don’t trust you anymore, and, unfortunately, Lilly is at that point. I don’t blame her either. I’ve been, well, a chaos goblin most of my life.
“Sure.”
I go back to eating my food in silence, bouncing ideas inside my head on how I’m going to approach this with Lilly. What deal am I going to have to make for her to know I mean business? I’m so lost in thought, I miss finishing my food, and Dominic finishing his, for that matter. He stands, taking my plate with him. “You don’t have to take that. I can,” I say.
“It’s no problem.” He disappears behind the wooden doors, and I keep my gaze locked on the tranquil lake. It won’t be like this in a month, when this place is full of children living their best summer life, just like I did most of my life—or at least, until I turned nine and Mama got sick, and life took a turn for the absolute worst. They all, my sisters and parents and everyone working the ranch, made sure my childhood stayed as innocent and happy as possible, but there’s only so much you can do when the woman who brought light to the place had hers dimmed bit by bit as her body deteriorated.
“Let’s go,” Dom says, standing back in front of me. I’m giving the head in the clouds comment a good example today, Jesus.
“Where? I have to wait for her.”
“Let’s go find her.” He turns on his heels, leading the way back to his truck.
“We don’t know where she is,” I say, even if it doesn’t mean anything, considering I’m climbing in the truck regardless.
