Page 31 of Out of Place

“Yeah, I’m sure I’m making Daddy proud,” I murmur.

She changes the subject. “So, what are you wearing to the cowboy party?”

I sigh and don’t bother correcting her again about the cowboy thing. “Well, he said to wear my bathing suit, so I was going to go with the white one.”

“Oooh, that’s a good one,” she interjects. I wore it to a pool party before I was shipped off. It definitely attracted lots of attention. It’s. . . tiny.

“And then I’m going to pair it with my white miniskirt and the see-through black tank.”

“Oh my god. These boys are going to fall to their knees for you, babe. You’re probably the hottest thing to hit that town since your mom left.”

I laugh. My mom and her departure seem to be the talk of the town. I’m learning that people who grow up here don’t tend to leave. So when she left, everyone noticed. More importantly, everyone remembered.

I glance down at the clock. “Shit. Landon is going to be here soon. I’ve still got to get dressed.”

“Yum. Landon sounds like such a hot name. You better snap a pic of him for me, or you’re officially a terrible friend.”

“I’ll try my best to get one.”

We say our goodbyes and hang up. I throw on my bikini and clothes and find my Valentino studded sandals.

I’m walking down the stairs right as Landon knocks.

His eyes darken when I open the door, and he takes in my outfit. I try my hardest to not look at the way his muscles look in his tank top, but they’re hard to miss. I imagine he’s built this way because of all the physical labor he does and not from spending hours in the gym. For some unexplainable reason, that makes it even more attractive.

“Landon. You better have her home at a decent hour. She has to work tomorrow,” Aunt Dottie announces as she comes up behind me. I didn’t even hear her walk up because I was so entranced with Landon.

He tips his baseball cap at her. This one is nicer and cleaner than the ones he wears while he’s working. “Yes, ma’am, I will.”

She looks at me and tells me to be careful and make smart decisions. It sounds like something my mother used to tell me before we all realized I wasn’t capable of making smart decisions.

I nod and follow Landon to his truck. He opens the door for me, something I’m still not used to, and I climb in. I’ll never admit it, but I love his truck. It smells like him. Not the gross end of a long day of work smell, but his actual scent. Like the way he smells now. It’s subtle but spicy, like I could wrap myself up in it and never get tired of it.

I was surprised that he actually trusted me to drive this truck. He casually handed over the wheel like he would’ve let me do whatever I wanted. I figured most of the men in this town were unnaturally attached to their trucks, but Landon seemed the opposite.

That first driving lesson was a little more intense than I was expecting. I was nervous. It’s a lot of responsibility to be in control of a vehicle, and I’m not sure I’m ready for it. People always make driving look so easy. Even so, I still find myself excited to do it again.

“When are we doing another lesson?” I ask when he starts up the engine, careful to keep my eyes straight ahead and not on him. I wouldn’t want him to think I like staring at him or anything. That would be crazy.

He chuckles. “How about tomorrow?”

I smile. “Ok.”

He drives us to the lake with one hand out his open window and one hand casually draped over the steering wheel. I keep sneaking glances at his hands. Ever since he brushed his fingers down my cheek yesterday, I’ve been thinking about him touching me again. His hands were rough from callouses, but his touch was gentle. It was. . . surprising.

We get to the lake, and he parks behind a bunch of other trucks. It seems like we’re one of the last ones here.

I wait for Landon to open my door because he likes to do that for me. Who am I to fight it if he wants to treat me like a princess?

He grabs a case of beer from his truck bed and laces our fingers together with his other hand. I look down at where we’re connected, feeling those stupid flutters in my stomach again.

“Is your girlfriend going to be here tonight?” I ask. The question is meant to be playful, but he doesn’t take it like that.

He stops abruptly and puts the beer down. Then he pulls my hand and spins me until my back is up against a tree. He puts our linked hands over my head and rests his free hand on my hip.

His lips hover over my ear as he whispers, “Seems I haven’t been clear enough with my intentions, so let’s fix that. I want you, Olivia. I want you to give me a chance. I don’t just want to be some guy you work with, alright? I’ve wanted you from the moment you walked into Ms. Dottie’s house with those ridiculous shoes and a bad attitude. No one else at this party matters. Not my friends. Not Ellie. Not Dawson. Not any other man who takes one look at you and thinks they deserve a shot with you. If you’re giving out shots, I want the first and only one.”

“Oh,” I breathe out.