Fall With Me (Sugarland Creek, #3) (53)

Even though it’s Sunday, there are still chores to be done. Stalls to muck and horses to feed, but I save the breeding work for weekdays so I only have to work half a day. Unless I’m using the other half to catch up on paperwork, invoices, and returning emails.

“Incoming!”

Before I have a chance to react, a hay bale smacks into my head.

“Didn’t you hear my warnin’?” Waylon asks a few moments later, towering above me as I lie flat on my ass.

I groan, giving in to the pain. “You mean the point two-second one?”

“It slipped outta my grip, sorry.” He holds out his hand and helps me to my feet.

When I look up, Tripp and Wilder are in the loft, laughing.

“Fuck you, guys. Too bad I didn’t get a concussion and forget we were related.”

“Hey, don’t include me in that!” Noah shouts behind me.

“Jesus Christ.” I spin around toward her. “Where do y’all keep comin’ from?”

“You’d need to remember me so I could tell you all the chicks you’ve already dated so you didn’t try datin’ them again,” Waylon muses, grabbing the bale and carrying it back up.

“I was comin’ to tell you Ellie’s on her way out here. Her dad’s droppin’ her off to come hang out with Ranger, but I thought you’d like to spend some time with her, too,” Noah says.

“Aren’t you the one who told me not to give her false hope and now you’re encouraging me?” I raise a brow.

Talk about confusing.

She doesn’t know Ellie and I have been talking all week, but I still enjoy giving her shit.

“Yes, I know. But she doesn’t have a lot of people she can trust, and for whatever reason, this version of Ellie seems to like you. I’m not saying start datin’ her, but it wouldn’t hurt to hang out as friends.”

“Riiiiiight. So you’re givin’ me permission to spend time with her but not to fuck her.”

She playfully smacks my chest. “Landen Michael!”

“Dude, I’m already hurtin’.” I rub the spot where she hit.

“Oh please. A hay bale is like forty pounds. You can lift two of ’em at a time without breakin’ a sweat.”

I point to my skull. “It was dropped on my head…”

She rolls her eyes before walking away as if this is a normal occurrence.

“Ellie will be at the stables in an hour…” she calls out over her shoulder.

Since I was done for the day anyway, I drive home and change out of my work clothes. As anxious as I am to see her, I remind myself that this is temporary.

But as I’ve already decided, I’ll take what I can get.

Before I go to the stables, I stop by the main house to see if Mom and Gramma Grace need anything at the store for tonight’s supper. I usually grocery shop on Saturdays, but I ran out of time.

“You’re so sweet to ask. I’ll make a list,” Mom says. “I heard Ellie’s comin’ today. You should invite her to stay for dinner tonight.”

“Okay, sure,” I say.

Once she hands me the list, I scan it over and then smile. “We’re havin’ a feast tonight or what?”

“Don’t we always?” Mom smirks, patting my cheek. “Appreciate ya goin’ for me.”

“No problem, Ma. I’ll be back in a bit.”

I drive to the stables and smile when I find Ellie at Ranger’s stall. She’s wearing those sexy-as-hell cut-off jean shorts.

“Hey.”

Her eyes brighten when they find mine and she noticeably checks me out. “You’re wearin’ a cowboy hat.”

“Yeah. A Cattleman. Do you like it?” I tilt my head down so she can see all of it.

“I do. How very western of you.”

Chuckling, I nod. “I like wearin’ it once in a while. Other times, I wear a baseball cap.”

“Like at the hospital.”

“Right.”

“Both suit you nicely.”

I narrow my eyes, and she mimics the gesture.

“What?” she asks.

“I was just waitin’ for you to mock me about it or say sike and that I look dumb.”

“Why? Oh, because of the whole I hate you thing?” She shrugs. “Well, I don’t today. But I do have a theory.”

Arching a brow, I lean against the stalls. “What’s that?”

“That we’re actually dating…but in secret. It’s why your name wasn’t in my contacts. I probably had it memorized anyway, but in case anyone saw me texting you, they wouldn’t know who I was texting. It’s why I would’ve deleted the thread. But for whatever reason, you don’t want anyone to know, or maybe it was my idea not to tell anyone, but either way, we pretended we couldn’t stand each other to keep anyone from findin’ out.”

“Have you hit your head again?” I ask.

She swats at my arm. “You can’t tell me that sounds any less crazy than us being enemies for no reason?”

“I’m sorry to burst your theory bubble, but that’s wrong.”

She folds her arms. “Then why were you sittin’ next to my bedside holdin’ my hand?”