Page 67 of Hung Up
But when I pull the door open and see her climbing out of a bright blue Jeep, actually seeing her with my own eyes, that earlier panic subsides slightly. After all, there’s still a lot riding on these next two days. At least that’s what I’ve made myself believe.
She reaches into the backseat and grabs a bright yellow suitcase before she throws a duffel bag over her shoulder. Faith is wearing a pair of jean shorts and an oversized Johnny Cashband tee. Her beautiful blonde curls are up in a messy bun on top of her head, the sunglasses resting on her face being pushed to sit atop her hairline. She gives me a wide smile when her eyes fall on me, and I swear the world stops.
That smile could make a man do dangerous things.
“Hey there, Pretty Boy,” she greets, dragging her suitcase behind her as she approaches. Snapping out of my daze, I rush down the three front porch steps and take her suitcase and duffel bag from her.
“Hey there, Sweetheart.” I start to walk back toward the house with her in step beside me. “How was the drive? Didn’t have a difficult time finding the place, did you?”
She simply smiles. “Not at all. I took a quick pit stop in town and got myself some ice cream. The name of that shop is adorable, by the way. A lot of the names of the shops in town are.”
“What’s the Scoop is definitely one of the better ones,” I say, agreeing with her. “Needle Drop Records and Bookends bookstore are up there.”
“What about Paisley’s Petals and Ever After Bakery? I thought those were cute, too.”
“Paisley’s Petals flower shop is owned by a woman named Paisley, and Ever After Bakery is owned by a friend of my older sister, Everleigh. Everleigh has a younger daughter who wanted something fairytale-themed, so my mother came up with the idea as a play on her name while also satisfying her daughter's request.”
“And it wasn’t easy,” my mother says from the front door just as we start to walk up the steps. “That girl of hers is a hard-headed child. It was a good thing I knew a thing or two about raising one.”
“You must be Mrs. Hayes.” Faith takes the last two steps in one giant leap, stopping in front of my mother with her hand extended. “It’s so great to meet you. I’m Faith.”
My mother waves her off, pulling her in for a hug instead. I have to bite my lip to stop my laughter as Faith hesitates for a brief moment from surprise, but she’s wrapping her arms around my mother a second later. “Oh, please, call me Loretta. The only ones around here who call me Mrs. Hayes are the ranch hands.”
“Well, Loretta, thank you for allowing me to come explore your ranch for the next couple days. I know I’m not the type of girl you normally see around here.”
“Honey, when I came to Aspen Creek, I was still in my outfit from Woodstock with my chihuahua.” My mother and Faith laugh in unison. “You look like you’d fit in better than I did.”
My mother hooks her arm through Faith’s and leads her into my house as I trail in behind them. “I thought you came from Los Angeles the first time?”
“I did.” She stops in the kitchen and turns to look at me as Faith begins to wander, her eyes wide as she takes in my home. “I went from Woodstock back home to get my Lenny and end my engagement, and then came here. I only packed. Now, quit nitpicking my story and show this woman around. I’ll be at the house finishing up dinner.”
Once my mother leaves, I turn to watch Faith, an odd sensation running through me. Watching the girl I’m falling for walking around my home is surreal. Now that she’s here, it’s easier to picture us curled up on the living room couch, wrapped up underneath the blankets, and watching a movie together. Or us cooking dinner in my kitchen and chasing each other around the island, or dancing together as music plays softly in the background.
I can see it as clear as day. Faith coming down the stairs, sleep still lingering, as she finds me cooking breakfast for her and having her coffee all ready and waiting to be sipped. The way she’d come up behind me and wrap her arms around my waist from behind, mumbling, “Good morning, Pretty Boy,” as she takes a piece of bacon off the plate. And once I was done, I’d plate both our meals before we’d sit together, eat in silence out on the front porch, and watch the sunrise.
And I know I’m in trouble because none of my fantasies of her here are sexual.
It’s just us, living life together.
“What do you think?” I ask, moving to lean against the back of the couch as she stops at my bookshelf, looking at all my photos and trophies from years of bull-riding. “Does it live up to your expectations?”
She chuckles. “It’s cleaner than I thought. And I’m surprised you actually have some pops of color around here. I took you for an all neutrals or woods kind of guy.”
Faith isn’t wrong. A lot of the interior of the house is warm woods and whites, but I added colorful pillows, painted the living room a light shade of green, and even had some art hanging on the walls to bring the space to life. I liked the plainness at first, but after a while, it didn’t feel like a home. Granted, all the things I’ve added haven’t fully gotten me to that home feeling, but it helped.
“A little bit of color never hurt anybody.” She smiles, turning to make her way over to one of the chaise lounges. However, before she has an opportunity to sit down, the door bursts open and Stevie comes rushing in.
“Get that vet of yours over here right now.” She’s panting, stopping just inside the door to rest her hands on her knees as she tries to catch her breath. “This vet can go to hell.”
I give Faith an apologetic smile, to which she waves me off, so I turn my attention back to my sister. “What happened?”
“He said Finley won’t be able to compete again and suggested I put him down because his injury might be too extreme. I’ll be damned if I give up on my boy like that. No, I need a second opinion. You’ve got to help me, Jesse.”
“Are you talking about Dean?”
Stevie’s eyes grow wide as she straightens, finally noticing Faith. “What the fuck, man? Why didn’t you tell me she was here? Or at least introduce me before I started running my mouth.”
“You didn’t exactly give me?—”
