“They are.”
“Then why haven’t you told them about me? About us?”
“I told you, everyone is on a need-to-know basis, and so far, no one needs to know.”
He rolls his eyes, relenting. “And what about your family? It’s just you, and Selena, and your mom, right?”
My chest locks. I don’t talk about my family with other people.
Never have.
Never will.
“Actually, I have a lot of work to do.” I start gathering my things. “I'd better get going.”
“It’s seven p.m.”
“Yes, the night is young. Plenty of time to put in a few good work hours at home.” I scoot out of the booth and stand. “But this was a helpful homework session. Now we know a few things about each other we can tell the counselor next time.”
“So you’re leaving?” He seems genuinely disappointed, and it’s cute—so cute that I need to leave immediately.
“Yep.” I’m already halfway to the door.
Things were getting too personal.
I like surface. I’m good at surface.
Anything beyond that isn’t in my wheelhouse.
That night,as I wash my face, a text comes through.
Hess
The promised slide presentation.
The text is followed by a PDF attachment. I click on it, feeling a grin spread across my lips. The link opens up a Google Slides file with the title in bold black letters:Get to Know Your Cowboy.
“You’ve got to be kidding me.” I laugh, jumping on my bed like I’m sliding into home plate.
The first slide has a picture of Hess when he was maybe two or three. He’s wearing a tan vest with fringe and matching chaps, holding a fake cap gun. Everything about the toddler version of him is adorable.Introductionis typed across the top in bold letters with three bullet points. I read through the bullet points one by one.
Harrison Taylor: nicknamed Hess because my older sister couldn’t say my full name when I was born, and it stuck
Twenty-eight years old and newly single (if you don’t count our marriage as part of my status)
Owner of Step and Spray
