Page 87 of Country Contract

“Are either of those happening today?” he asks.

I shake my head.

“Then cancel dinner.” He sounds like a whiny child, and I fight the smile that starts to curve my lips.

“I can’t. It’s just dinner.”

“You’ll have a ton of time for dinner with him. I have less than thirty days.”

“He’s leaving tomorrow. Stop being like this.”

Harrison’s arms drop, and he reaches over my shoulder to open the microwave and pull his mug out.

“Well, if you’re going to go, we might as well pick you a nice outfit.” And just like that, the sweet boy is back. It worries me how he has to force himself to shift into a positive gear.

We climb the stairs, and Harrison sits on the edge of my bed, sipping on his coffee as he tells me everything I own except for a pair of black jeans and a black hoodie is ugly. I roll my eyes at him, and he winks.

After quite some debate, we settle on jeans and a sweater.

He’s not happy and, frankly, neither am I. But this is the ways things are, and we just have to accept that.

Harrison

This.

Is.

Horseshit.

Chapter 35

Harlow

We’re at a family Italian restaurant in a town outside of Pebble Creek. He made another comment on how the town had so little to offer, but I tried to pay no mind to it. I’m here for a vacation, there’s no reason for me to become so defensive.

“Anything exciting happening for you?” he asks warmly. He looks a little uncomfortable in the, what he would describe as drab, wooden chair. The table between us is decorated with a cream tablecloth that has an intricate deep-red pattern on it. A candle surrounded by fake flowers is set between us. I ordered eggplant parmesan, and he ordered baked ziti.

“Nothing really. I’ve been working, relaxing, reading for fun, riding horses—all good things.”

“Sometimes uneventful times are the best. I’m surprised you didn’t get risotto.”

My head jerks back. “I would never order risotto.”

“Afraid it will be better than Maria’s?” He’s joking with me.

“It would never. I don’t like to waste money on disappointment.”

“You’ll never know if something is better than what you’ve had if you never try it.” And he throws in a wink.

Who is this guy?

Where is Ryan?

“Where’s your work husband?” I’m surprised he didn’t even drive us. It’s just been Heath and me.

“Do you miss him more than me?”

I don’t think I was prepared for this flirtatious version of him. He’s wearing a deep-red knit sweater, his hair a little messier than usual, and black slacks. His distinct brows rise waiting for my response. I would actually consider him attractive at a time like this but in the back of my mind . . . it’s not enough.

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