Page 8 of Feels Like Falling
“Not that I’m an expert,”—I smirk and he rolls his eyes—“but I think you’re supposed to talk to her. Women like that sort of thing.”
“I don’t think that’s just women. I’m pretty sure that’s supposed to be a universal rule.”
“Hell if I know,” he mumbles and I can’t help but chuckle. Getting actual words out of Archer has always been a trial in patience, but seeing him open up over the last few months has brought me a kind of joy I didn’t know existed.
Despite most people’s best intentions, there’s always a judgment when you meet men like us. Archer is quiet and reserved—often shy—and yet he’s cast as standoffish or rude, while I’m just the guy lookin’ for a good time who can’t take anything seriously. Sometimes I think it’s easier than people thinking I’ll never make anything of myself. I’ve maintained and even expanded the success of the farm and, with the man sitting across from me, managed to build a profitable empire in Sundown Realty.
We’re more alike than most people think, shyness aside, but that’s a battle for another day.
I take a sip of my coffee and stare out the window before returning my attention to Archer. “Hire your girlfriend and let her pick the storefront. She can furnish it.” My mouth opens and closes as my brows furrow. “Just make sure it looks manly—like us but you know, not us.”
“That makes literally no sense.”
“Sure it does. We want it rustic and country and shit without having every available wall covered in shiplap.”
“And you just trust Bea to do this?” he asks in disbelief. I get it—I do—but he’s never seen himself the way I do. He’s my cousin, a title I gave him based on love and respect rather than blood, and that means something to me.
“I trust you. You love her.” I pause and wait for him to dispute it. He doesn’t, so I continue, “So by extension I love and trust her, and when you’re ready to make it official, I’ll call her family just the same.”
“I’m not sure I’ll ever truly understand you.”
I shrug and school my expression even as I feel the tips of my ears heat. “Life’s too short to be upset over things that don’t matter. Love hard, live big, and find what brings you joy.”
“Like you pining over Ellison?”
“I still love her. I always have, and her being in Savannah didn’t change that. I just never let myself really fall for her the way we both deserve.”
I meet his gaze and watch as his lips part the smallest amount. I’ve shocked him almost as much as I’ve shocked myself saying that last part out loud. But no one who truly knows me can look at me and not know I’d do damn near anything to have what my grandparents had.
Sure, my parents are happy and still in love but it’s different. It’s generational. It’s the stories Grandad told me with a glass of sweet tea on the porch andNanyelling her version from behind the screen door.
It’s the love and affection that comes from having nothing and building something with your bare hands that sustains more than just a moment in time. It’s knowing that the land brings me comfort and peace. It’s knowing I’ll live and die by the land.
And it’s the hope to love one woman for the rest of my days.
One woman in particular.
“You all right?” Archer asks, and I have to shake my head to clear the daydream.
“Yeah, just thinking.”
“Is it about getting goats? Because I’m sure Bea can help facilitate that in between finding and furnishing a storefront.”
“I will disown you,” Iwarn,but I’m not joking and he knows it. Or he should.
His lips twitch as he pushes back from the table and stands. “No goats—got it.”
“I’m serious, man.” My whole body shudders at the memory of being chased around the paddock as a kid and being thankful I could clear the top of the fence in one leap.
He clasps me on the shoulder as we discard our now empty cups and head out into the parking lot with a wave at Karina. The air is already heavy, but it feels like home and there’s nowhere else I’d rather be.
Sitting in my truck, I watch in my rearview mirror as Archer pulls out and disappears from view. It’s already a good day, and as I flip on the radio, I can’t help the smile that stretches over my face.
“Chicks Dig It” by Chris Cagle plays, and hell if I can argue with that.
4
MONTANA
