I chuckle lightly. “Okay, I won’t,” I say, rolling my eyes.
We continue watching until we’re all caught up and the newest episode that's airing now starts to play. My eyes grow heavier by the minute.
“Oh my god! No!” he shouts at the TV, fully immersed. He pats down the couch cushions and grabs his phone from where it slid between the armrest and the corner cushion.
I hear a ringing tone, and my brows climb high on my forehead. “Who are you calling?”
He doesn’t get a chance to answer before the person on the other end of the line answers. “Are you seeing this!? Icannotbelieve they would arrest her for something like that!”
I adjust in his lap to snatch the phone out of his hand and bring it to my ear. “Mami?”
“Si, mija! Thatcaballitoarrested her for doing the right thing! I can’t believe it.Ese cara de culo se equivocó si pensó que ella aceptaría ‘tu cuerpo, mi elección’!”
“Darlin’, that’s very rude. Your mom and I were having a conversation,” Ryder tells me, grabbing the phone and rollinghis eyes playfully with a lopsided smirk that sends my heart soaring.
I gape at him jokingly, but I’m not offended at all. If anything, these interactions between Ryder andMamiare quickly climbing high on my list of reasons I might fall in love with him again,and that is dangerous territory to be in.
Chapter Thirty-Six
GRANNY’S PERFUME DRAWER
SATURDAY, JUNE 7
My joints feellike they’re on fire by the time I’ve finished up at the barn for the day. Ryder’s been pleading with me to let him hire contractors to help me, but I don’t want him paying for anything else. Plus, it feels good to put in the work for what I want.
What doesn’t feel good are the inflamed joints and angry muscles I’ve been pushing past their limits each day.
It isn’t long after I’ve showered before Ryder enters the house, one hand wrapped around a stack of mail and Nugget tucked under his other arm. “Looks like Nugget is ours unless his owners manage to get ahold of us somehow. He doesn’t have a microchip either,” Ryder tells me as he sets Nugget down and kicks off his boots, setting his hat on the hook by the door. Nugget sprints to his blue-and-white porcelain bowl, lapping at the water.
“That makes me kind of sad. I love him already, but I can’t help but think about the family probably missing him right now,” I admit, patting the seat beside me for Ryder to sit down.
He does, stretching out his long limbs with a satisfied groan. He’s mindlessly sorting through the mail, listening to metalk about my day, which was uneventful, per usual. His thick, dark brows pull tight, casting a shadow over his eyes.
“What’s wrong?”
He shakes his head, tearing into the large white envelope. “It’s from the permitting committee,” he answers, his eyes roaming over the crisp letterhead. He flips each page, his expression softening with each turn until he’s relaxing back into the cushions, shaking his head with a huff of laughter. “These aren’t real.”
“What are you talking about?” I ask, grabbing the stack of papers he hands me.
He explains further as I read the legal jargon. “My family has been above board since the day my grandfather opened this ranch. If there’s an update to the rules, we comply with those updates whether we’re grandfathered in or not, and with all the work I’ve done to the ranch to make our work more environmentally sustainable, none of the problems listed in these documents are remotely possible.”
“But what if Lemmon had her father?—”
“Lola, her father hasn’t been in contact with her in three years. They live in the same town, but that’s the only proximity they share. He grew tired of her games, so he set boundaries that she tumbled right over every chance she got. Seeing the way he handled their relationship was one of the things that pushed me to do the same with Lemmon despite years of gaslighting. Fred Meringue isn’t going to play any part in Lemmon’s games, I assure you. She’s threatened to do exactly this to me before. Now, go ahead and give it a sniff.”
His words take me from relief to confusion with a snap of his fingers. “I’m sorry, what?”
“Sniff the papers, darlin’.”
I bring them to my nose, taking in a good whiff. The smell of magnolias and lemons lingers on the pages, and my brows climb high as shock floods my heart. “Are you serious?”
“Lemmon prides herself on smelling like the inside of hergranny’s old perfume drawer.Thatis her rather unfortunate signature scent.”
“God, the lengths that woman will go to create tension between us.”
“She’s got a lot of trauma from her mother leaving her so young, but none of it is an excuse for how poorly she treats everyone. I’m not sure we’ll ever work out the real reason, and I don’t think I care so long as she stays away from you.”
I bristle at his words, not wanting to admit my discomfort at being the target of her abuse again, but he sees right through me.
