Page 9 of Something Tangled Something True (Rosa Ranch #1)
MOUNTAIN OUT OF A MOLEHILL
Lola’s presence beside me on the bench seat pulls a tight knot in my stomach, leaving me unnerved, hyperaware of the minimal space between us. It would be so easy to slide her over to me, but I can’t .
Lola has always been the first to dive into any situation—unless it involved me. She’s always been a runner where I’m concerned, at least when it mattered most. And if I have any chance in hell of convincing her to give us another shot at a relationship, I need to let her come to me.
As she gazes out the window, her dark curls hanging like a curtain over her smooth, bronze shoulders, I can’t help but recall the very first time we were in this position…
“How did you convince your dad to gift you a truck for your seventeenth birthday, Ry? What happened to ‘working hard and earning the things you want most’?” Lola chided, her lips pressed together in a smirk that set my world on fire.
“Obviously, he saw how unbelievably hardworking, talented, and deserving I am and decided now was the perfect time to show me that,” I teased, my chin held high as I turned the corner at the outer edge of the property, passing the red barn at the top of the hill.
“Mhmm, and the real reason?” she asked, a dark brow quirked.
I released a huff of laughter. “Okay, fine. He wanted a new truck, and this one wasn’t worth enough to warrant sellin’.”
“ Ajá , and the truth is out!” she shouted playfully, pointing a finger at me in mock accusation.
I rolled my eyes, grabbing her outstretched finger and twining mine into hers, bringing her hand to my mouth, pressing chaste kisses against each knuckle.
She squirmed in her seat, rubbing her thighs together, but she made no effort to pull away from me. “We really shouldn’t, Ry,” she whispered, her small voice booming in my ears.
I released her hand, mine quickly growing cold with the loss.
“I always want you to feel safe with me, Lola. No matter how our lives pan out, that’ll be true.
So, if you don’t want me to kiss your knuckles or tuck your hair behind your ear”—or any of the other small gestures I’m desperate to do—“we won’t. ”
“The barn. Park at the barn,” she rushed to say, her dulcet tone a complete one-eighty from her quiet words moments before.
I did as she said without hesitation, pulling up beside the barn and shifting into park. She stole my hand, clutching it to her chest, and raised her other hand to my cheek, dragging my face to hers. Our noses pressed together; my breath caught in my throat as she stared into my eyes with longing.
“I don’t want you to think I don’t want those things, Ry,” she said, her warm, sweet breath coasting over my lips.
“Then why can’t we?” The words that left my mouth nearly brought me to tears. Even then, I’d known I’d loved her for every moment of my life that mattered, and if she’d been too scared to take our friendship any further, I’d live, but it might feel like I was dying.
“Because—” She averted her gaze, biting her lower lip before saying, “I want you too much, and if things get weird between us, I’ll never forgive myself for losing you.”
“You’ll never lose me, Lola,” I assured her, swallowing thickly.
“You can’t know that,” she whispered, her voice wobbly, chin quivering.
“I love you, Lola Lima, and neither time nor distance will ever change that. I swear to you.”
She blinked away the tears, a stray one slipping free of her clumped, damp lashes, falling down the curve of her cheek. I swiped at it with the pad of my thumb.
“I love you too,” she said, dropping her hands to wind her arms around my neck.
My body hummed with approval, pulse pounding in my throat as she climbed into my lap and rested her cheek over my heart.
I reveled in the weight of her in my arms, holding her until the sun had set and there were a million stars lighting the sky.
I knew without a doubt that I had the brightest one of all right there, in my arms.
My throat burns, heat licking up my neck at the memory as I pull up outside of the main house, parking beside my dad’s truck. I nearly toss my body out in an effort to get around to her door before she can haul ass inside.
Her wide smile greets me when I open her door, a shimmer of butterflies swarming in my stomach. She reaches out her hand to take mine without a second thought, and I help her out onto the dirt-covered ground.
“Always the gentleman,” she says with a smirk. “I see you’re the same Ryder Lockhart I once knew.”
“Oh, I don’t know about that, darlin’. I’d say plenty’s changed with me. I don’t think you’ve gotten a good look at all the things that’ve improved in the last few years,” I tell her with a wink, and her cheeks turn rosy.
“Your ego certainly hasn’t suffered either,” she jokes, smacking my bicep and heading inside.
I follow her, being sure to keep my gaze averted to my own feet as we make it up the porch steps. The last thing I need is my mother’s prying eyes catching me staring at Lola’s wide hips and firm ass.
Once we’re both on flat ground again, I peer over at the kitchen window a few feet from the front door, where the white lace curtains rustle as Mom hurries away.
I shake my head in silent laughter, heading into the home I grew up in . Some things never change.
Dinner goes exactly as expected. No one brings up the elephant in the room: that Lola was supposed to get married, and now she’s here.
Alone. Instead, my brother, Zeke, sits in brooding silence beside me, a trait that only became more prevalent after his service in the military, and our parents fawn over Lola, overwhelming her with questions about her plans for work while she’s here.
Except Lola is Lola, which means she doesn’t show her discomfort.
No, instead, she’s politely engaging in this conversation while her foot taps incessantly beneath the table, giving her away.
“I’m excited to teach again, but”—she flutters her lashes in a uniquely Lola way and smiles at my mom—“I don’t know if there’s much of a market for Latin dance lessons in Hidden Valley, Oklahoma.”
My parents chuckle, hanging on her every word, and for good reason.
Lola’s the kind of woman who lights up every room she’s in.
She could be speaking about the most mundane things, and you’d still find yourself absolutely enraptured by her.
I know I might be biased, but it’s clear as day when you’ve seen it for yourself time and time again.
“Oh, Lola, when will you learn, precious girl? If you provide it, they will come! I’m sure you’d be surprised to find out just how many of us unsuspecting small-town folks are interested in something new and exciting like your dance classes!” My mom has always been team Lola, in all things.
“ ?Sí, mija! They will come,” Bexaida, Lola’s mom, assures her.
“Thank you, Mrs. Lockhart,” Lola says, her cheeks turning that pretty rose color again.
Mom waves a wrinkled hand at Lola. “Oh, you stop with that! You’ve been gone a few years, but you didn’t hit the reset button. I’ll always be Bee to you!” Mom peers at me with a sly grin on her lips before adding, “Or maybe, one day, you can call me Mom.”
I nearly choke on my own spit, but Lola takes it in stride, completely unfazed by her antics.
“Sorry, Bee, ” Lola emphasizes with a wide grin and raised brows.
“I appreciate your support. Really, I do.” Her dark-brown eyes soften.
“I appreciate all your support,” she says, addressing everyone at the table.
“I know we haven’t spoken about it, and I’m thankful you’ve all given me some time to just be here without having to talk it out. ”
Her leg is shaking a million miles a minute under the table, and I’m certain I’m the only one who notices. I’m sitting directly across from her, just like old times, so I settle my foot overtop of hers, and the shaking stops. Her eyes shoot up, sheepishly meeting mine in a silent “thanks.”
When will she finally believe there isn’t anything I wouldn’t do for her?
We finish dinner without any more wayward glances. Lola volunteers to do the dishes. My chair scrapes across the hardwood floors as I stand, immediately making my way over to her at the sink. “You wash, I'll dry?” I ask her.
She gives me a small smile, nodding her agreement.
My cell vibrates in my back pocket, and when I see who the message is from, it doesn’t take any time at all before I’m turning the power off entirely and tucking it away.
Lola and I fall into a rhythm, her meticulously washing each dish before rinsing and handing it to me to dry and stack.
With each dish, her posture becomes more and more rigid, her hands shaking the smallest amount, and a strained look passes across her face.
I lower my head to her ear so only she can hear me. “Darlin’, let me finish up these dishes, yeah?”
I get a quick flash of her eyes in my direction, but that’s the only acknowledgement I receive to confirm she’s heard me.
“I’m not sure what’s going on, but you look like you’re in pain, and we can’t have that. I promise, I don’t mind takin’ care of these.” Or you. ‘Please, let me!’ I want to shout but bite my tongue.
She blows out a breath through pursed lips and mutters, “I’m fine. Just let it go.”
I finish drying the glass in my hand, tuck it into the cabinet, and turn to face her. “Lola, please. There’s clearly something going on. You don’t need to be so strong all the time.”
Is she upset about something? Am I misinterpreting a battle of emotions with physical pain?
Her sharp gaze cuts to me, her cute little nostrils flaring with annoyance. I shouldn’t be as happy as I am to get this kind of response out of her, but at this point, any attention she’ll give me is plenty. It’s enough to know she’s not in so much pain that she can’t speak.
“All these years, and you still haven’t learned how to leave well enough alone, have you?” she grits out, snatching the dish towel from me to dry her hands.
“When it comes to you? Absolutely not, and I never will. I don’t want ‘well enough’ for you, Lola. I want perfection.”
She clenches her eyes shut, drawing in a deep, steadying breath before blowing it out and meeting my eyes with a much softer expression.
“Ryder, I appreciate that you care, but I’m tired.
I’m going through a lot right now, and I’m sore from moving my things around.
Please don’t make a mountain out of a molehill. ”
My shoulders sag as I resign, not wanting to push her too far out of fear she’ll shove me away instead.
“I’ll let it go for now, but you’re clearly in pain, Lols, and you don’t have to carry the weight of the world alone.”
She gives me a solemn nod, leaving me to sulk with the dishes until she and Mayte leave with Isabela. I’m left alone with my thoughts racing, full of worry over Lola and what she could be hiding behind a mask of unbreakable strength.
My night is spent restlessly replaying our conversation until I’ve picked it to pieces, and I’m certain her pain was, at least mostly, physical.
It was clear in the way her posture was slumped over the sink, hands shaking, and a grimace so unfamiliar pinching her expression.
I can’t just stand by and wait for her to come to me if there’s something I can do to help.