AlexI watched him approach the porch. He didn’t look happy to see me. It wasn’t exactly the reception I had expected or hoped for. The last time we had been on the porch, the chemistry and sexual sizzle between us had been off the charts. There was none of that now. His jaw was set as he climbed onto the porch, his gaze holding mine.“Hi,” I said with a small smile.“Hi.”“Can we talk?” I asked.He shrugged. “I suppose.”He made no move to sit down. It was a very clear signal he didn’t want me to stay. “Would you like to sit down?” I asked, feeling a little ridiculous considering it was his porch.He flopped down. “What is it?”“Damion, I can tell you’re mad. I’m sorry.”“It doesn’t matter.”“It does matter.”“Not really.”I sighed. He was going to make this difficult. “I—”“Before you say anything, I should tell you I spoke with Harvey,” he said.I nodded. “Okay. And?”“He told me you were going to inherit the farm if I didn’t come back,” he said, his eyes hard as he looked at me.“

DamionI was mentally and physically exhausted. I couldn’t seem to make a right move. Every choice I made ended up being the wrong one. It was taxing my psyche and making it impossible for me to think straight. I kept hopping back and forth over the same fence looking for greener grass only to find it was all dry.I put my head in my hands, my elbows resting on my desk in my old office, and groaned. “What the fuck?” I muttered. “What in the actual fuck?”I couldn’t believe I had missed my job. I hated it. I hated all of it. I yanked at the tie around my neck, pulling it down and giving myself some room to breathe. I hated the tie. I hated the suit jacket that seemed to be tighter than usual. I hated the office with very little sunshine and no fresh air. New York stunk. I hadn’t realized it stunk until we had walked out of the hotel we were still staying at while I searched for a townhouse.I had found several apartments that were close to work, but Oliver had dug in. He wanted a backy

Alex“Oh my god! Seriously! What the hell are you doing?” I wanted to say so much more. I wanted to wring the neck of the kid that had been riding my last nerve. I wanted to kick rocks and punch a bale of hay. I hated feeling so angry, but I couldn’t shake it. The anger left a bitter taste in my mouth and a burning fire in my belly.The young ranch hand looked up from what he was doing. “Uh, I’m putting gas in the chainsaw.”I closed my eyes. “No! That is not the gas for the chainsaw. Did you not read the can? That is gas.”He looked at the can and then back at me. “I know.”I threw my hands into the air and shouted. “No. No. No! That one. The one that says ‘chainsaw mix’!”“Oh, I’m sorry,” he mumbled, quickly capping the first can and going for the second.I shook my head, muttering under my breath as I stomped back to the other two kids that were hooking up the trailer to the truck. I had taken a job close to home on a ranch. I didn’t typically take ranch jobs, but this one paid wel

DamionI tapped my fingers against the steering wheel. Traffic was at a standstill. It was always at a standstill. It was fucking New York City. I had only been gone less than two months and I had forgotten what a bitch it was to drive in the city. I couldn’t hop in the car and hit the open road. I hopped in the car and waited, barely moving an inch at a time. It was beyond irritating.I glanced in the mirror. Oliver’s attention was on his tablet. He was still not talking to me. He wasn’t ignoring me, but he wasn’t exactly in the mood for conversation. It had been that way for weeks. It was getting old. It amazed me that a five-year-old had the fortitude to hold such a serious grudge. He was taking his anger very seriously.“Are you excited to see your new friends?” I asked.“They’re not my friends,” he answered without looking up from the tablet.“They will be your friends. Friendships happen over time. You hang out a little every day, and pretty soon, you’re friends.”“I had a frien

AlexI shouldn’t have been so hasty. I had quit the job before really thinking it through. I had been hotheaded and walked off without thinking about the consequences. I had sullied my reputation. I was hoping I could overcome a little black spot on what was a solid reputation. I wasn’t going to make excuses if a potential client asked me about the situation.I felt a little bad for my behavior, but I wasn’t about to grovel and ask for my job back. I didn’t want it. I didn’t want to work with kids. I worked best alone. Or with adults that had a clue. There were other jobs. I just had to muster up the energy to actually want one. I didn’t. I wasn’t ready to deal with people.But being in the house was driving me crazy. I was bored out of my skull. I had nothing to do. The house was clean. All the laundry that had been piled up for years was put away or thrown out. There was nothing that needed my attention. Nothing. I had spent the bulk of my life feeling like I didn’t have enough time