Only With Me (Sugarland Creek #4)

Chapter 9

Chapter Nine

Harlow

O h God, maybe I shouldn’t have said that?

We don’t even know each other’s names and now I’m offering to meet him?

This sounds like the start of every true crime episode.

Cue the: “She lit up every room she walked into like a bright shining star. Too bad she was dumb as fuck and didn’t learn the never meet up with strangers rule.”

Mystery Guy: I’d love to.

My eyes widen that he agreed, and I internally scream.

True crime episodes be damned.

I do a little happy dance in my room before responding.

Harlow: Awesome! I’m off work on Friday.

Mystery Guy: I can make Friday work. Where do you wanna meet?

Harlow: Assuming you’re in Sugarland Creek too, there’s a newer cute cafe downtown named The Grindhouse.

Mystery Guy: Yeah, I’ve been there a couple times. How’s noon?

Harlow: Noon is perfect.

Mystery Guy: Great. How will I know it’s you?

Ooh, good question.

Harlow: I’ll wear a pink bow in my hair with it halfway up.

Mystery Guy: Pink bow. Got it.

Harlow: See you then.

Now I just have to figure out what to wear.

And how to be way cooler in person than I am over text.

“How could you not tell me about this sooner?” Natalie scolds during our weekly Thursday video chat.

It’s been four days since Mystery Guy and I made plans to meet. We’ve texted each day since then, but I’m still nervous to see who I’ve been talking to.

Especially since I’m starting to like him.

Her jaw dropped to the floor after I told her everything starting from the poison ivy group discussion, me showing off my ass bruises and the vitamin K deficiency discovery, which then led to Mystery Guy and me texting separately, and now how we’re meeting in person tomorrow.

“And you still don’t know his name? How’s that even possible?” I don’t blame the skeptical look on her face because I’d ask the same thing if the roles were reversed.

“Neither of us brought it up,” I explain. “I kinda liked him not knowing. The moment anyone searches my name online, they’ll see all the news articles from seven years ago.”

The ones that talk about a home invasion gone wrong and how I was nearly beaten to death with a metal baseball bat.

Natalie gives me the look. The one of pity and sadness.

“Stop it,” I scold, pointing at her through my laptop screen. “That’s exactly why right there.”

“Sue me for feelin’ bad about what happened to you.”

Frowning, I continue, “I wanted him to get to know me now in the present before he learned of my past. The scarring on my body from the attack, surgeries, and tubes aren’t easily explainable in a quick sentence or two. I wouldn’t wanna share those details with someone I just met without them knowin’ who I am now.”

It’s too personal for a stranger.

Nodding, she sighs. “Yeah, I get it.”

And I know she does, considering she has her own body scars and trauma from her accident.

“It sounds weird, but it’s also… exciting . Like some mystery guy is talkin’ to me . Givin’ me attention and lettin’ me get to know him. It’s been thrillin’. As cliché as it sounds, I wake up every day with a smile because I know there’ll be a message waitin’ for me.”

Perks of him starting work so early.

“Well, ain’t that sickly sweet.” She gags. “Meanwhile, I’ll be in the middle of the road waitin’ to get run over.”

“Oh my God, you’re so dramatic!” I holler at how extreme she is.

She acts like she has no dating experience, but she’s already lost her virginity at least. I haven’t even kissed a man.

Basically, I’m going into all this naive and blind.

We continue watching a second episode before calling it quits for the night after we both excessively yawn through the last half.

“So if you call him Mystery Guy, I wonder what he calls you.”

“Oh, I never thought about it. Now I’m curious, too.”

“Let’s hope he ain’t some weirdo who labeled you as Nice Ass Girl.”

“He doesn’t give weirdo vibes, but I’m not exactly experienced in the area of men, so he could be a sixty-year-old priest for all I know.”

“Hmm…forbidden love and he’ll die soon so you’ll get his life insurance? Jackpot.”

“Natalie Jo!” I burst out giggling. “You read too much smut.”

“Smut? Girl, that’s a thriller plot. The heroine finds out the priest has been inappropriate with her little sister but no one believes her, so she comes up with a plan for revenge. She seduces him and makes him fall in love with her, but the kicker is she takes out an insurance plan on him without his knowledge. Then she murders him in the worst way—like it was so graphic and disgusting—by cutting off his dick and shoving his balls down his throat. But also, like…respect, girl. Making him suffer and doing the Lord’s work gettin’ rid of that piece of shit.”

I grimace at the image she just put in my head. “Jesus…that’s gruesome.”

“Oh, and then she sets up someone else to take the blame.”

“No way…who?”

“Her own mother! Since she didn’t believe her about what he was doin’ to the sister, she planted evidence to make her the only suspect. She came up with this whole crazy plot and the crazier part is how it worked because the mom went to prison.”

“That’s madness. Is that how it ends?”

“The epilogue is the best part…not only does she get the money, she moves with her sister to another state and changes their names. Then they start going to another Catholic church and she basically repeats the whole thing—seduces a priest, takes out life insurance on him, cuts off his dick and kills him, then plants evidence to pin it on someone else.”

I gasp. “So now it’s a whole murder for life insurance scheme?”

“Pretty much, but she’s also a little…psychotic. An unreliable narrator, if you will. I haven’t read the sequel, but I heard it’s even better than the first. She goes from priests to other types of predatory men and it’s supposed to be even more disturbin’.”

“I haven’t even read it, and I’m disturbed.”

“Well, I can give you a ton of smut recommendations. Especially if you wanna learn a thing or two…” She smirks, arching her brow.

I chuckle at her clear implication. “Maybe. I’ll get back to you once I find out who he is. Might need to read that thriller one instead after all.”

“Speakin’ of murder, you should share your location with me—just to be safe.”

“We’re meetin’ at The Grindhouse. There’ll be employees and other people there.”

“But what if he wants to take you for a drive…ya know—a drive ,” she emphasizes the last word with a drawl.

I pinch my brows. “What’s wrong with that? Drives out in the country are my favorites.”

“I swear to God.” She pinches the bridge of her nose. “There’s only two reasons a guy asks to go on a drive with a girl.” She holds up one finger. “To get you naked in the back seat for some horizontal gymnastics.” Then she puts up another finger. “Or to murder you in the woods and bury you there.”

“Damn, okay. No goin’ on drives.”

“At least not until you know him better,” she clarifies. “So until then, share your location with me right now.”

“Fine, geez.” I grab my phone and add her to my Life 360 app. “Happy, Mother ?”

“Yes, thank you. Now I can stalk you without being a creep.”

I snort. “Well, I’m glad one person will know where to look for my body.”

“I’d bring out my shovel and find you myself before even calling 911. Then I’d find the bastard who did it, smash his head in with said shovel, and leave him out for the coyotes to eat.”

“Ooookay, this just got morbid like your thriller book. I’m gonna have nightmares tonight.”

Her laughter causes me to laugh and soon we’re both wiping away tears at her reaction to murdering the person who killed me.

“I better get to bed,” I say.

“Yeah, you gotta take an everything shower and shave before your date , don’t ya?” She waggles her brows, and I shake my head at how obnoxious she is.

“Only because I’m wearin’ a cute dress, but that doesn’t mean there’ll be any touchin’ underneath it.”

“Mm-hmm. Right .”

“Good night,” I singsong.

“Nighty-night.”

Once I close my laptop, I roll off the bed and go brush my teeth. Then I check my phone and unknowingly smile when I see a text from him he sent earlier.

Mystery Guy: We’re still on for tomorrow at noon, right? Pink bow in hair?

Harlow: Yep. I’ll be there.

Harlow: Wait. Pink bow in my hair or yours?

I’m obviously teasing, but I know he’ll go along with it.

Mystery Guy: I was hoping you because I just ran out of pink ribbon the other day.

Harlow: Ha! So how will I know who you are?

Mystery Guy: I’ll be in a cowboy hat.

Harlow: You and every other man.

Mystery Guy: Ha! Don’t worry, I’ll find ya.

Harlow: Okay, can’t wait.

Mystery Guy: See ya soon.

Harlow: Night!

Butterflies invade my stomach at the thought of finally meeting him.

As long as Natalie’s warning doesn’t become a reality.

I don’t know what it is about him, but chatting each day and talking about normal stuff has me excited to finally put a face and name to the mystery guy behind the screen.

We’ve made enough small talk where it makes sense to add in more details about my past and not worry he’ll treat me differently once he knows.

I’m anxious, but I’ve never been giddier about meeting someone either.

My nerves are on fire as I sit at one of the tables in The Grindhouse.

By how hard my heart’s beating and how fast my leg’s bouncing, I don’t think I’ve ever been this nervous in my life.

Not even for my first show horse jumping competition. I didn’t have this overwhelming urge to throw up. That seems like a breeze compared to this.

But I focus on the beautiful holiday decorations around the café and try to settle my nerves. With Christmas only a few days away, downtown is covered in holiday spirit.

As planned, I put my hair up in a half ponytail and wrapped a pink ribbon around it, then tied it into a bow. I put on a matching color maxi dress that flows to my ankles and a white cardigan over my shoulders since it’s chilly outside. When I worked on Tuesday, I bought a new pair of tan boots that go halfway up my calves.

I look cute as hell if I say so myself.

When I sent Natalie a full-mirror selfie, she replied that I looked hot enough to put any man into cardiac arrest.

Let’s hope that doesn’t happen, but I do hope he’s not disappointed in who I am.

Truthfully, I’m not sure what I expect, but I’m ready to find out.

At a quarter after twelve, I check my texts in case he messaged about being late.

Nothing .

When I look around behind me, my eyes meet Waylon’s.

He’s not dressed in his usual work clothes. Rather he’s in dark denim Wranglers, a button-up shirt, and a cowboy hat. He looks good .

But he always does.

“Hey!” I turn completely until we’re face to face.

“Harlow.” He clears his throat. “Hi.”

“I wouldn’t have thought you were the type to come all the way into town for some coffee.”

“Uh, right.” He scratches over his scruffy cheek. “Just felt like gettin’ out today.”

He looks slightly uncomfortable—which isn’t unusual for him—but I give him a small comforting smile anyway.

“Yeah, it’s a beautiful sunny day.”

I face toward my table to continue waiting with my nerves in overdrive.

Looking down at my phone again, I frown that he’s not here nor given me a heads-up he’d be late. I’m tempted to text him and ask where he is, but I don’t. At least, not yet.

Instead, I watch Waylon at the register. He orders a drink and then points at a muffin in the display case. When he looks over his shoulder, our eyes meet, and I smile at him again.

This time, he returns it.

When he dated my sister, there was so much going on in our family that I rarely saw him. The most was after I started training with Noah and even then it was sparingly since he works on the opposite side of the ranch.

After Waylon receives his order, he goes to walk past my table but then stops.

“Are you here alone?” he asks.

“I’m waitin’ on someone. He’s a little late,” I say, the words nearly choking me because deep down I know he’s not coming, but I’m too embarrassed to admit it.

Waylon gives me a look, one I can’t quite place, and then his face morphs into a sympathetic grin.

Great. As if I couldn’t look any more pathetic sitting at a table by myself, he must think I’m a loser now for getting stood up.

“Okay. Have a good rest of your day.”

I swallow hard. “Thanks, you too.”

He nods and then walks away.

If I had more confidence in myself and wasn’t afraid of his rejection, I would’ve invited him to join me instead.