14. Harlan

14

HARLAN

A yawn claimed me as I squinted across the rolling green fields to the Moore farmhouse. I'd seen Miss Rhonda tinkering around outside, but there had been no sign of Daphne all morning. I'd seen a van pull up an hour ago and drop off luggage, but no sign of Daphne. I knew that she was leaving today. When I walked her home before sunrise, she mentioned that her flight was this evening.

I glanced over to the blanket in the barn, still lying over the hay bales where I'd made love to Daphne twice last night. After our first time, we'd laid in each other's arms and talked. We talked about our favorite movies, music, and television shows. She told me that growing up, she'd loved The Gilmore Girls , so her favorite place to go when she used to come to Firefly Island was the gazebo in the Historic District because it looked exactly like the one in the center of town square in Stars Hollow, the fictional town the show is based in.

We talked about our favorite foods. She hated cooking, but she loved The Great British Bakeoff and Ina Garten's Barefoot Contessa . We talked about where we expected to be at our ages. She thought she'd be an anchor on CNN, and I told her that I'd never had a plan for after baseball; that I'd naively thought I'd have a long, successful career in the majors. That my injury had pulled the rug out from under my life.

We talked about our first kiss. Hers had been in Firefly Island under the pier with Billy Comfort, which I hadn't been too happy about. But, when I told her mine had been at the same place with Nadia, she hadn't looked too happy either, which I have to admit...I sort of liked.

We talked about what it was like for me growing up on a farm and what it was like for her to move, on average, every nine months. We talked about college, first loves, and what it was like to lose a parent.

I'd never been as vulnerable with another person as I'd been with her. I'd shared more in that short time with Daphne than I ever had in three years of therapy.

Then, out of nowhere, she sat up, put her shirt and shorts on, and said she had to get back so her aunt wouldn't worry. I wanted to argue, but I knew that the sun would be coming up soon, which meant that people would be showing up for my classes, so I leaned down to kiss her goodbye, and that started round two. It was quick, but it was memorable.

The shrill sound of a whistle intruded on my walk down memory lane. I flinched as Weston called out for the class to switch stations. I watched, arms crossed behind my Aviator glasses, as red-faced students huffed and shuffled from one activity to the next, and another yawn claimed me.

"I told you, you should have taken today off," Weston commented for about the fifth time this morning.

"I'm fine."

His left brow arched, a clear sign that he did not agree with my assessment.

"How much sleep did you get last night?"

None.

"Enough." I wasn't about to tell him that I'd been awake for over twenty-eight hours. If I did that, he'd have questions about what had caused my sleeplessness. There was no way I was going to disclose what had happened just a few feet away.

Just thinking of it had my jeans feeling a little tighter than they should. Last night, hooking up in the barn had sounded like the best idea since sliced bread. Now, in the light of day, it's not that I regretted the hookup, but I was a little unsure of how I'd ever be able to be in the barn and not get a half-chub.

I did my best to seem engaged for the final thirty minutes of class, but I was relieved when the final whistle blew, signaling the end of the day's last class. Weston had done the heavy lifting during all five sessions this morning. He was probably right; I should have taken the morning off. But if I had done that, it would've made keeping an eye out for Daphne a lot more difficult.

If I were in the farmhouse, I'd have to spy from my window, then run out to go say goodbye when I caught sight of Daphne. As it was, I could casually notice her and head over without it seeming like I'd been stalking her all morning, which is exactly what I'd done.

I still didn't even have her phone number. I'd looked her up on Instagram and TikTok and had found her accounts, but I didn't want to slide into her DMs. I was pretty sure we were past that at this point.

"Hey!" Brianna Lamb, an attractive redhead with huge brown eyes, waved as she approached me. She'd moved to town a year ago and had always been a little flirty with me. But since I'd met her as a student, I hadn't pursued anything. "Who ended up winning you?" she asked, before lifting her water bottle to her mouth and tilting her head back.

My brow furrowed. "Winning me?"

She lowered her bottle and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. "Last night. The auction."

"Oh, right." Last night's standout memory was not the bachelor auction. In fact, I hadn't given it a single thought today. In fact, so much had happened since then that it felt like a distant memory. "Um, I think they said her name was Ms. French."

Her head tilted to the side. "Is she from around here?"

"I don't think so." If she was, I'd never heard of her, and I knew just about everyone.

Brianna's lips curled. "My paddle was up quite a few times, but once it went over a grand, I had to accept defeat."

It blew my mind that anyone would pay anything to spend a few hours with me, but the fact that multiple women were willing to lay down a car payment and groceries for a month to spend a single night with me was flattering but still strange.

"Thanks." I shifted uncomfortably as I dipped my chin in a nod. "I appreciate that."

Lissette Longmire joined Brianna, hooking her arm through her friend's. Her eyes bounced between Weston and me. "Hey! We're going to Southern Comfort tonight; you guys should stop by."

"I don't really?—"

Weston elbowed me. "We'll be there."

Weston had a Grand Canyon sized crush on the pretty blonde. I'd noticed he paid her special attention during class and ‘liked' all of her social media posts.

Normally, I wouldn't be bullied into being a wingman, but since the alternative was sitting home alone obsessing over a woman who lived thousands of miles away, I figured a drink or two couldn't hurt.

Instead of arguing, I just grinned. "I guess we'll be there."

The two women smiled widely before turning to head out.

"You owe me," I said under my breath.

"I carried all five classes this morning. We're even."

He had a point.

I glanced back over at the Moore farmhouse and was coming up with excuses I could use to head over when my phone rang.

I pulled it out of my pocket and saw that it was Zoe. I wondered if she'd found out AJ was drinking last night. I'd been informed about his drinking this morning by Caroline Shaw, who had caught him and his friend in the bathroom with two half-full glasses of whiskey.

"Hey," I answered.

"Hey, I know this is last minute, but I got called in to work, and AJ has a game in Richmond Hill that starts in an hour. I tried Dawson, but he's on duty. I know you're probably tired, but is there any way?—"

"I'll be there."

Ever since AJ started playing sports, Zoe, Dawson, and I agreed that we didn't ever want the stands to be empty. We all knew that if Austin were still alive, he'd be there, or make sure someone was. Growing up, Austin always talked about how much it meant to him that his Grandpa Walter never missed one of his games.

Austin never knew his dad. His mom came home from her first semester in college pregnant. Then, when Austin was four, she ran off with a boyfriend to Florida. Walter stepped in to raise his grandson.

"Do you want me to pick up Walter?" I asked Zoe.

Walter was in his mid-nineties now and didn't drive anymore. He lived with Zoe and AJ, but, like Grandad, had been talking about moving to Sunset Shores for a while now.

"Oh, that would be great! Thanks, Harlan."

"No worries."

I glanced over at the farmhouse as I disconnected the call. My plan had been to stalk the house and wait for Daphne to appear outside so I could say goodbye to her, but it would have to be abandoned. I needed to grab a shower and go pick up Walter, or we'd miss the first pitch.

Disappointment swelled in my chest. I should feel grateful for the time I got to spend with Daphne. It reminded me what it felt like to feel alive. To feel connected to someone. To feel…anything.

I just wish I had more time with her. But then again, somehow I knew, even if I had forever with Daphne Moore, it wouldn't be enough.