It wasn't a shock to Layla that Dawson didn't come to dinner the night before, but she was surprised to see him there tonight. After their last argument, she figured it would be awhile before he'd want to be around her at all, let alone with his family in the room, where the two of them would have to pretend that nothing was the matter. 

She wondered, if it hadn't been for the sudden rain that started pouring that evening, would have gone out again instead? Or was he just that confident that he could keep himself composed? Maybe it hadn't affected him as much as she thought. Maybe she was the only one in knots over all the things she'd said.

Of course, he'd deserved them, and she knew she was right. But why did it have to bother her so much that the two of them were on bad terms again? Things felt so easy when they weren't at each others throat.

The long oak table was full tonight. Marshall wasn't working late, and Roman and Lillie Mae had decided to stay for dinner. The orchard's newest hire, Annie--who Kenzie had introduced Layla to before dinner was served--had also been invited. 

Annie seemed sweet, but almost painfully shy. To Layla, it looked like she was trying to hide herself in plain clothes and behind long, pin-straight locks—but it wasn't quite working. The almost-white hair and bright blue eyes made Annie striking, and the rest of her features went together oddly enough to be pleasant: a top-heavy mouth, round eyes, a strong, wavy nose.

When Annie took the empty seat next to Dawson, Layla felt a dull thud of an emotion she'd never experienced before--some overwhelming mixture of anxiety and jealousy that made it hard to breathe. As if it wasn't bad enough on its own, she hated herself for feeling it in the first place. She hated wondering what Dawson thought of Annie, or vice versa. 

It didn't help that she couldn't stop her eyes from lingering on the man in question. He must have spent all day working in the sun--his skin had goldened, enough to bring out the pale scars on his hands. Would they ever touch her again? Once more, she hated herself for wondering. For wanting the answer to be yes.

She fought to keep her attention on Jack and Annie as they talked work, describing to the family how she'd be updating the orchards website and running their social media accounts. Layla was vaguely familiar with aspects of the job, having dealt with the social media department at Foster Fitness a few times for their online workout videos. If Annie was as shy as she seemed, the job would probably be a good fit--especially since there were few employers Layla knew of that were as nice as the McAden's. 

Lillie Mae seemed more interested in how Annie was going to settle into town, rather than her job. She was renting out the apartment over Lillie Mae Bridal, and Annie answered all of her excited questions about how she planned to decorate. But apart from speaking when spoken to, she said next to nothing.

For some reason it made Layla's chest ache with sympathy. A young woman in a new town, taking on a new job, looking around the table with nervous eyes despite being surrounded by the most welcoming family there was. Well, apart from the one man who seemed to be doing his best to make Layla feel like a guilty, reprehensible liar.

She glanced over to Dawson at the thought, and found as their eyes met that his gaze had already been on her. There was a time-stopping jolt of conflicting emotions: fear that he wouldn't look away, and the desire that he'd stay staring, wearing her down with nothing but his eyes until all their problems would melt away.

But Dawson's gaze was quick to drop back to his plate, shattering the daydream. As far as she could tell, he had no intention trying to fix their problems. He hadn't said a word to her all night, and until then had been doing his best not to look at her, either.

She should be grateful. Finally, she'd figured him out and managed to put an end to all the pestering. He'd avoid her now, meaning she could finally get over the attraction that was plaguing her.

So why did she want to drag him away from the table and make him look at her, talk to her, work with her to fix what was wrong? Why did she want so badly for all the bad blood to go away?

As Lillie Mae managed to coax Annie into talking a little bit about her hometown in North Carolina, Layla wondered again what Dawson thought of the quietly beautiful blonde. Would he move his attention over to her, now? Badger her for information about her life, seduce her with those kind eyes and that strong mouth, have her halfway to crazy before she even understood what was happening?

It didn't matter. Hell, it would be for the best. Annie was in Red View for the foreseeable future while Layla's stay was already almost halfway over. If there was any hope for him getting out of his no-commitment mentality, it wouldn't be with someone who was leaving next month.

When it came time to clean up after dessert, Kenzie volunteered and Layla offered to help, brushing off the sentiments about her being a guest. She followed the brunette into the kitchen with her arms full of dishes. Kenzie set her stack in one side of the double basin sink, and Layla followed suit.

Now that they were alone, the idea that had sparked in Layla's mind during dinner prodded at her until she blurted it out. "Do you think we should invite Annie to tomorrow's workout?"

She knew it wasn't her place to make a suggestion like that—this was Kenzie and Marshall's program, after all. Still, she couldn't seem to stop herself from saying it. Preemptive jealousy aside, the girl looked as lonely as Layla'd felt when she got here, and there was no reason she should stay that way. 

Thankfully, Kenzie lit up at the words, laughing as she got out dish soap from one of the cabinets. "I was going to ask you if you'd care if I did! I suggested it to Marshall earlier. Thought it might help her come out of her shell."

Both women turned as Lillie Mae spoke up from the doorway, carrying in a few glasses. "She is a quiet thing, isn't she?"

"Kind of reminds me of Cliff," Kenzie said with a gentle smile. "I can't wait for him to finally get here. You think he'll really show this time?"

Lillie Mae put the cups in the sink and placed a hand on her daughters shoulder. "You know he wouldn't miss your wedding, Kenz."

"Yeah." She waved away the pessimism with a shake of her head. "And it's not like it's his fault he hasn't been able to see us in so long. I just hope nothing comes up again."

The opening door drew their attention, and Layla offered Annie a friendly smile as she came in with the last of the dishes.

"Hi," she hesitated by the door. "Um, these were left, so I... Will anyone need help with washing them? I'd be happy to—"

Lillie Mae waved that idea away. "Don't you worry yourself about that. Just drop those right in here," she motioned to the sink before heading over to the door, the two of them swapping places. "How is it that none of those men ended up in here with the dirty plates?"

With a laugh she went back to the dining room, most likely to give them a ribbing about it.

"Annie," Kenzie started, and the blonde seemed startled by her own name, blue eyes wide behind her glasses. "Would you want to join me and Marshall for our workout with Layla tomorrow morning?"

"We'd love the company," Layla added. "Makes things more fun."

"Plus, the run would give you a good look at the Orchard. Might give you some ideas for Instagram pictures or something."

"I—Yeah," she nodded with a smile. "I'd love to. Jack's given me a few deadlines, but he's basically letting me work my own hours, so... my schedule is open."

Kenzie explained what time to come by and Layla reminded her to bring a water and to wear something she was comfortable moving in. Annie thanked them both before saying she'd better head back to her apartment to get some more unpacking done, and retreated back to the dining room to say her goodbyes to the rest of the family.

"I like her," Kenzie announced once the kitchen door was shut. Facing the sink again, she turned on the faucet to soak the dishes. "She does seem... naïve, though. Jack better be paying her enough."

Layla's lips toyed with a smile at the fact that Kenzie--the most optimistic person Layla'd ever come in contact with--could find someone else naïve. 

"Anyway, I'm glad we're alone. I wanted to talk to you about something." 

The words morphed Layla's amusement into anxiety, and a nervous, "Oh?" was all she could seem to manage.

"It's about Dawson." She shut the water off and turned back to Layla, leaning against the counter. Layla's heart seemed to stop in her chest. This time, she couldn't do anything but wait for Kenzie to say more, afraid her voice would crack if she spoke. "He was in a bad mood this morning and when I asked him about it, he told me to ask you."

She could feel her eyes widen even as she tried to stop herself from reacting. Great, now he was getting other people involved in their arguments? She was supposed to be on a job here, focusing on the happy couple and nothing more. How would Kenzie be able to take her seriously now that she knew she was bickering with her brother every time they ended up alone?

"I just wanted to make sure he hasn't been bothering you," Kenzie continued. "I'd feel bad if he's been giving you a hard time."

Well he had been, that was for sure. But it wasn't Kenzie's fault, and Layla had a feeling that there wasn't anything she could have done to prevent this. Dawson was too headstrong to be veered off of a path he seemed dead set on taking.

"I'm sorry," Layla finally said, shaking her head in shame. Whether Dawson was dead set or not, part of this was her fault. How could she have let herself get caught up in all of this when she was working? "I don't think Dawson and I get along very well, and... We had a disagreement over something stupid. I'm sorry. It's not professional of me to be arguing with him."

Kenzie's bubbly laughter managed to break some of Layla's tension. "I'm not worried about that! Layla, you don't have to act professional here—You're my friend. I'd be happier if you just made yourself at home. If that means fighting with Dawson, who cares?"

"Oh. I... Thanks." Kenzie really considered her a friend? It had been years since Layla'd given that title to someone, and she wasn't sure if anyone had ever thought of her, genuinely, as a friend. It warmed her and worried her in equal amounts that she might actually have one.
"Still, I should try to get along with him. I don't want things to get uncomfortable." Or rather, she wondered if she could prevent them from getting more uncomfortable. She'd been out of her comfort zone since the second she saw him.

Kenzie shrugged her shoulders. "Sure, if you want. But don't pretend to like him just for my sake. Honestly, I'd be happier if you didn't. It's about time I had a friend--apart from Emmie--who didn't want to hop into bed with him."

Layla managed a laugh, even as she could feel the color rushing to her face. Did that mean that Kenzie's own friends were some of Dawson's flings? He did say that Red View wasn't populated enough to have that many options. But just how many friends did Kenzie have? How many of them had Dawson been involved with?

More importantly, why the hell did Layla even care at all, let alone enough to feel a pang of annoyance and a sharp jab of jealousy in her chest?

She didn't want to sleep with Dawson. Of course she didn't. So why did it feel like a lie to let Kenzie believe that?

I'm so happy you guys are theorizing about Annie! 😆

I can't believe January is almost over 😵‍💫