Page 43 of Country Contract

“Take the offer. Let the girl rock your world,” he states instead.

“You think I can do it? The whole casual thing?” Pushing myself off my four-wheeler, I scuff my boots against the dirt and gravel.

“No, I think you’re going to get attached or get a little heartbroken. But I think you need to learn how to do it. That way, when the right girl comes around, you’ll finally know what it means when something is real and worth it.”

I roll my eyes. Neither of them thinks I can do it, but at least Silas thinks it might be worth the experience. I could go ask Cassidy, but she’s getting close to Harlow, and I don’t know if she wants her only friend here in her business.

I didn’t mention the cash aspect to Silas. Even Hunter knowing that detail seems invasive. I know for sure having one person in my corner through this whole fiasco is important. Because if what we all think might happen actually happens, I’m going to need them to vent to after it’s all said and done.

Chapter 19

Harlow

I, Harlow West, propositioned a man for sex.

If my parents ever caught wind of this, it would be the worst thing I’ve ever done. They already consider me eccentric and strange compared to the rest of the family.

“Harlow is a littleodd,and I hear she had to pay for company during heralone time.” I can hear their distaste.

There’s a part of me that really can’t believe it myself. I haven’t been able to step outside all day for fear of running into Harrison. It’s a cold day anyway, so cozying up inside is perfect.

I considered reaching out to Cassidy to see if she and Blake wanted to hang out. It would take my mind off things and maybe the embarrassment would fade. I’ve been brazen in the past, but not once in my life have I offered to pay someone to keep me company. To make matters worse, the money was an unthought, rash offer.

He knew what I was asking for and that makes it so much worse. He knew I wanted to sleep with him. Could he really blame me? We have tension, sexual tension. Ourkiss was all that fireworks shit Meg reads about in her books. It was more than that—it was raw and real. It was needy and hot. How could he not want the same thing?

Tossing aside the manuscript in my lap, I call it a day. I can’t read anymore. My brain needs a break. I lie back on the couch when a weight climbs me. Cleo’s soft paws pat up my legs before she settles herself half on my chest, half on the couch. My arms engulf her in a gentle embrace. I pet her, and her purrs vibrate through me. Whoever invented weighted stuffed animals should add the smallest timed vibration and purr. It’s comforting.

When I peel my eyes open, I realize that I have dozed off; the chill of Cleo’s absence must have woken me. Stretching my arms above my head, I arch my back and then kick out my long legs. I feel like a cat, myself, stretching and reaching to the very tips of myself. Reaching for my phone, I see that I haven’t missed much. It’s after seven, so I should get something to eat.

Heath: I saw that there’s been some rain out there. Is that putting a damper on your trip?

Me: No, I actually enjoy the rain.

Heath: You enjoy rain?

Me: Yes.

Heath: Why?

Me: The sound, the smell, it’s good for plants.

Heath: Noted.

Noted? Every time I talk to this guy, henotessomethingabout me. I feel terrible for all his efforts because I am in no headspace to reciprocate. If I want to kick off this arrangement right, truly making a better effort would be the start.

Me: Do you like the rain?

Heath: A question, I’m shocked.

Heath: I don’t mind the rain; I despise getting caught in the rain. Wet leather shoes and socks are a complete discomfort during long meetings.

Me: Noted.

Heath: Noted.

Noted. Will all our conversations come off so businesslike? I’m not a warm and fuzzy girl, but the conversation screams beige decor, white couches, and a housekeeper who tends to the fresh flowers. My mother would be delighted.

I make my way upstairs, change out of my comfortable clothes, and toss on a long-sleeved black dress, black vine-patterned tights, and my boots. I have a feeling it’s safe for me to leave the bunkhouse now, and I’ll only be making the short walk to my car before I drive into town. A drink to clear my mind and the company of Silas sound better than replaying the past few days in my mind.

---