Page 46 of Out of Place

“Can you grab those other boxes on the porch and load them up?” she asks.

I do as she asks, thankful she’s not pressing me for more details, and we take off for the farmers market. Since I’ve been with her a few times now, she lets me work both parts of the process—grabbing products or taking payments. I kind of like it. I feel like I’m needed here, not just because my parents asked her to take me off their hands for a little while. We stay busy, which makes the day go by faster.

Mid-morning, I hear someone call my name. I turn and see Landon a few feet away from the table with an iced coffee in his hand. He’s told me that he hates cold coffee, so I can only assume it’s not his.

I look to Dottie for permission to go over there, and she gives me a nod and a tiny smile. I take a few steps around the table to Landon. Before I can say anything, he leans down and kisses me. I don’t think I’ll ever tire of being kissed by him. It’s hard to believe I went from hating kissing to looking forward to my next one in the span of a few weeks. The person doing the kissing might have something to do with it.

“Here. I brought this for you.” He hands me the iced coffee.

“What is it?” I ask, taking a sip.

“It’s the small-town version of the fancy coffee you like in New York.” He remembers the coffee I said I liked? We talked about that weeks ago.

“How did you. . .?”

He shrugs. “I Googled it and asked the coffee shop in town to do their best.”

“Landon. That is so sweet.” I almost cry as I take another sip. I’ve missed this coffee so much. For him to go out of his way to get it for me—even if it’s not exactly the same—makes me feel so special.

“You deserve the best, sweetheart.” I suck in a breath. I’m not sure if that’s true. Landon puts me on a pedestal that I don’t deserve. I’m a mess. An embarrassment, as my family so kindly phrased it. I wonder if he would feel the same if he knew me before I was forced to come down here. If he saw what I was like: getting wasted at bars, stumbling home, and ending up in places without any memory of how I got there. “What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?”

“I. . . You’re too good to me.” He doesn’t need all of my trauma unloaded on him now. And I don’t need to tell him about the person I used to be because that version isn’t here right now, and I don’t know if she’ll ever be back. The idea of spending my nights getting blackout drunk doesn’t sound appealing to me anymore.

He kisses me again before nodding to the table. “You better get back there. The line is getting backed up.”

“Oh, yeah. Right.” I look at the line but really don’t want to leave Landon. I wish we could spend all day together.

As if Aunt Dottie was reading my mind, she yells, “Hey, Landon! I need my girl back, but why don’t you come over for dinner?”

He smiles and waves at her. “Thanks, Ms. Dottie. I’ll see you then.” Then he looks back at me. “See you tonight, sweetheart.”

I nod and watch as he walks away. He’s by himself today. No Cam with his unpleasant glares or Ellie hanging all over him right in front of me.

He came all the way out here on his own to see me.

“Olivia. Need some help!” Dottie calls.

“Coming!”

* * *

Later that evening, after a long, hot morning at the market, followed by an afternoon of checking on the chickens and the goats, I’m finally showered and relaxing at the kitchen table while Dottie cooks.

I scroll through my social media accounts, something I haven’t done in weeks. All of my so-called friends are posting pictures of their lives, but not one of them besides Serena has reached out. Not that I’d expect them to, really, but a DM asking where I’ve been would be nice.

On a whim, I post a picture Landon took of me in the chicken house.

My hair is a mess, and I’ve got dirt on my cheek. My shirt is baggy, and the jeans don’t show off any of my curves. It’s definitely not a picture I would normally post on my social media. A few months ago, I would’ve been embarrassed for someone to see me like this. But now? I don’t really care. In fact, I kinda like it. Let the haters hate.

I post the picture without a filter as a knock sounds on the front door. Putting my phone down, I jump up. “I’ll get it!”

Dottie laughs. “Figured you would.”

I jog down the hallway and stop before I get to the door, tucking my loose strands of hair behind my ears and smoothing down my shirt to pull myself together.

I open the door and don’t hold back. I fling myself at Landon, wrapping my arms around his neck and kissing him. His arms go straight around my waist, and he pulls me closer.

“Did you miss me?” he asks humorously.