He was right. As the league’s highest-paid receiver, even after his injury last season, he needed to stay in top shape and focus on winning. At least for a few more seasons.
Tiller continued. “If you’ll be the man on the ground here year-round, we’ll offer you an equity share of the business as an incentive. It’s not special favors. It’s standard business practice. Julian’s already written up an official offer for you and made it all legal. We’re serious about this, Sam. But we don’t want you making this decision out of friendship debt. Make it because it’s going to be fun as shit and lucrative as hell. Do it if it makes sense for you logically. And that’s why Mikey’s not out here right now,” he finished with a wink.
And he was right. Mikey would have begged me and used our friendship to pressure me to say yes. But it didn’t matter.
I was going to say yes anyway.
I reached out my hand to shake. “I’ll have to close things out back in Houston.”
Tiller’s face split into a wide grin, and he yanked the handshake into a pounding hug. “Fuck yeah. Thank god.”
I felt the relief in his body and realized just how much he’d meant his words about wanting someone he could trust and trusting me. It made me feel appreciated and capable, like the hard work I’d done all these years was finally paying off with the respect of someone I cared about.
I cleared my throat. “I’m going to tell Mikey I said no, though.”
Tiller laughed. “Why would you put me through that?”
As we walked back toward the house, Tiller reminded me I could make one of the chalets my own. “Or you’re welcome to stay with us at the lodge. I just figured you might want more privacy.”
I wondered if there would ever come a time when I could make a home with Truman at the farm or if he even wanted a relationship long-term like that. We’d only known each other a handful of days, so it was ridiculous to even think that far ahead.
But I couldn’t help myself.
I felt lighter as we returned to the lodge. The future was exciting and challenging. For the first time in my life, I thought about what it would be like to live in a small town where I recognized people on the street and had a community to call my own.
Mikey shushed us when we entered the kitchen. Barney and Truman were at the kitchen table with a legal pad full of notes as Barney spoke authoritatively to the insurance adjuster on speakerphone. That was an important task ticked off the list. Maybe I needed to give Barney more credit despite his being a controlling asshole and blatant liar.
It was time to get to work to put the Honeyed Lemon back to rights. That meant finding out when the fire investigators would give us access to the shop again to begin clearing debris. Since I’d expected a call from them anyway, I checked my phone. Sure enough, there was a voicemail from Gail Brown requesting a time to interview me about the case.
I stepped back outside and called her back. After the requisite pleasantries, she got right down to business. “Dirk had a few questions for you and wanted to know if you could meet us sometime today to go over them.”
“Anytime is fine with me. Truman also wanted me to ask when the building safety inspection will clear him to start work on the property.”
I heard her rustling some papers around before getting back on the line. “We have a tentative date for the inspection on Friday, but until the investigation is complete, I can’t confirm—”
I stopped listening as I caught sight through the window of Barney leaning over to kiss Truman. My heart sped up as I reached for the kitchen door, but then I saw Truman put his hand on Barney’s chest to push him off.
I exhaled and turned around to catch my breath to keep from storming in there and making a scene. My heart was in my throat, and the strength of my reaction grabbed me by the balls.
My reaction hadn’t been protective concern for Truman as the recipient of an unwanted advance. It had been complete and utter jealousy along with a healthy dose of possessive rage, something a caveman would feel if he found another asshole stealing his fresh kill. I’d never felt that way about another man before, and I’d scoffed at people who did. To me, jealousy had always been an indicator of mistrust. There was no need to feel jealousy when you trusted someone not to stray.
I let out a desperate laugh. How was it possible to feel jealousy when I didn’t even have an official relationship with Truman from which he could stray?
It was entirely his prerogative to kiss anyone he wanted to. We weren’t dating. We weren’t in a relationship. I’d known him for only a matter of days. What the hell was wrong with me?
I rubbed my face with a hand and realized someone was talking to me. My phone. Gail.
“I’m sorry,” I muttered. “Dropped my phone. So sorry. Can you repeat that?”
“We’ll be in touch with Mr. Sweet about the inspection. Meanwhile, Mr. Bromley and I will meet you at the crime scene this afternoon. See you there.”
I nodded stupidly and ended the call before taking another breath. Slow down. I didn’t need a new job, new hometown, and new relationship all at once. One thing at a time.
I turned around and entered the kitchen, trying my hardest to remind myself that Truman could handle one measly little town librarian.
But then I saw Barney’s hand pressed intimately against Truman’s lower back as he led him out of the kitchen toward the front door of the lodge.
And everything I’d promised myself about staying calm and allowing Truman to fight his own battles went completely out the window.
“Are you leaving?” I asked, trying to keep a steady voice, if not a casual one.
Truman turned to me with a smile. “Barney wanted to look at your motorcycle. I told him it was a rental, but he said he still wanted to see it. Maybe you can show it to us since neither of us knows beans about motorcycles.”
It was an odd request, but I followed them out front and showed them the Versys, explaining the basics for about half a minute before Barney interrupted with an excuse for needing to leave.
“I’ll swing by and check on you later, Truman,” he said before shuffling over to his car and driving away.
“That was weird,” I said.
“Really weird. He hates motorcycles. Thinks they’re death traps.”
I glanced at him to see if he was pulling my leg. “Then why in the world did he… He was trying to get you alone outside.”
Truman blushed and shrugged. The pink in his cheeks was enough to make me salivate. “Maybe.”
“Then I’m glad I interrupted,” I said without hesitation. “I’d rather be the one to get you alone outside.”
Truman was silent for a moment, and he looked flustered like maybe I’d put him on the spot. Maybe I’d been too forward in my attempt to interrupt them.
Things between us were awkwardly silent for a few minutes until we both spoke at once. I said, “I’m sorry,” at the exact same time he said, “I want to have sex with you.”
“I’m sorry, what?” I asked, pretty sure I’d heard wrong.
“I want to start by giving you a blow job,” he said hesitantly. “But no sixty-nining me this time.”
The request surprised me. “Did you not like—”
“No! Oh gosh no. That’s not it at all. Like? Of course I liked it. But I couldn’t do my thing while you were doing your thing, and I’d really like to do…”