More Than Falling in Love: A Sweet Small-Town Romantic Comedy by Remi Carrington

Author:Remi Carrington [Carrington, Remi]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Phrey Press

Chapter 16

Kent

I reach to set the phone on the table, then shove it in my pocket instead. If Poppy texts, I don’t want to miss it.

Mason is curled up, holding a flashlight and reading about butterflies. “Can we get some of these plants? The caterpillars like to eat them. If we put them around the house, more butterflies will come.”

Perched on the edge of his bed, I look at the page. “We can probably get some of those. When we see Jasmine, we can ask her. She’ll know if they grow well around here.”

He scrunches up his face. “New York is noisy.”

“I guess a little. There are just more people, more cars, more of everything there.”

His head wags back and forth. “I bet there aren’t more cows there. Or butterflies.”

“You might be right.” I tap his book. “Not much longer, okay?”

“Yes, sir.”

The next little while is spent putting away folded clothes, clearing dishes out of the sink, and checking the time. Repeatedly. How long will it take Poppy to get home once she’s finished her drink? Will she be alone on the subway? Safe?

Life was simpler before I knew her. But I wouldn’t trade our friendship for the simplicity. For anything.

But I also feel that way about Parker and Tyler and several of the other ranch hands. So feeling that way doesn’t make this weird. However, I don’t dream about the guys.

When I check on Mason, I slide the book out from under his face and set it next to his bed. I kiss his head and whisper, “Sleep well, bud. Love you.”

Guitar in hand, I slip out to the back porch. It’s still hot and humid even after dark. As we get later into the summer, it will only get worse.

Playing my song, I try out lyrics, but nothing sounds right. I’m exhausted, but fighting sleep until I think Poppy is home, which is silly because I won’t know when she gets home. And it’s not like she can call me for help if she gets into trouble.

Trusting that she’ll make it home safely, I put away my guitar and crawl in bed. Fretting over Poppy is just preparing me for when Mason is a teen and out with friends. But then I can make sure he keeps me posted on his whereabouts.

I’m on the verge of sleep when my phone buzzes. The text makes me smile.

Poppy: Home

Poppy: No need to worry about me

Me: Thanks for letting me know

I punch my pillow into shape, then close my eyes. Now I can sleep.

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