Page 13 of Safe With Me
How did I make this right?
My brain short circuited on that, about like it had on every one of Mr. Martin’s algebra exams. I’d have to think on that, but I could own what I did. Hannah didn’t want to talk to me – I got that because I didn’t want to talk to myself at this point – but a text was okay. Right?
Hey know you’re mad and you should be.
I was an asshole.
No excuse for what I said.
I paused, typed outcan we talkand deleted it. I’d wait for her to respond, and in the meantime, I’d think about how to make this right. You know, make up for broadsiding her and insulting her.
A groan worked up from deep in my chest, and I laid my forehead on the wheel. Such a dumbass
Lifting my head, I sucked in a few deep breaths through my nose, until I didn’t feel the need to hurl. I stuck my phone in my pocket, shoved open the door, and dove into the rest of my day. Contrary to Jase’s shitass commentary, I did more around Yager Farms than tell people to move a few cows. Okay, I told people to move the Angus beef cows from field to field and sometimes moved a few myself because they needed to rotate and eat good. But Yager produced a heck of a lot more than just good beef.
We grew row crops, vegetables that served at least a dozen farm-to-table restaurants. The excess stocked the farmer’s stand out by 19. And we grew pecan trees, selling them to growers as far away as Texas.
So I spent the day checking crops, inspecting trees, and working up a couple of big orders, aware with each minute that my phone never buzzed in my pocket. I made myself wait until the end of the day, though, to look for myself. In my office, I swiped over to my messages and frowned at my text to Hannah.
It hovered on the screen, with no “delivered” beneath it. Huh. Frowning, I punched her contact at the top of the screen and listened to the call go straight to voicemail.
She’d blocked me?
Hell, no. Instinct had me on my feet, reaching for my keys so I could show up at her house. Common sense, which sounded a lot like my daddy, made me sit back down. She’d told me to leave her alone. I needed to respect that boundary.
Now I knew I wasn’t having a heart attack. Full-on panic held my chest in a vise.
She didn’t want to see me, and I had no clue how to make up for insulting her.
Raking both hands through my hair, I stared out the window at the rows of cut flowers we grew to sell by the stem.
Flowers. She liked flowers. Or plants. I could handpick her some herbs or shit from our own stock and go tell her all the ways she wasn’t a bitch.
Like that old “How do I love thee, Let me count the ways” poem, but with all that was good about Hannah.
For the first time all afternoon, I could actually breathe and I grinned. She loved squishy, romantic stuff. Not that I felt romantic toward her. We were friends, that was all. I’d want things right with any friend I’d wronged.
Like Jase?
I frowned. Was keeping secret feelings to myself wronging him? Ah, hell, I didn’t want to think about that.
A memory flashed through my head, Hannah and Tick looking at me, with Elizabeth cuddling herself up to my chest.
Ah, fuck. I was an asshole and I was shit.
Okay. I forced myself to breathe again and reached for the Yager Farms notepad on my desk. Ripping off a sheet, I started a list.
What’s Good About Hannah
Smart
Creative
A good person
A good friend
Works hard
