Page 53 of Buckin' Around

You would think I popped the damn question, the way her face tightened and she put space between us the second the words ‘come with me this weekend’ left my lips.

“She is not an accessory you tote around for your own peace of mind, Spencer.” She’s spun right back around, the knife she’s cutting the vegetables with pointed at me.

Thursday night. Chicken and steamed greens.

I first thought her meal planning was ridiculous, but with the chaos a baby brings, it’s kind of smart.

“And what happens when someone who knows you sees Ivy and me?”

My mouth opens, hanging before I close it.

I have no reasonable answer.

Riley lowers the knife to the chopping board, and I hate that I relax just a little.

“If your family isn’t supposed to know about her, I’m pretty sure having us at one of your events is a bad idea.”

I run both hands through my hair and blow out a breath.

She’s right.

Riley O’Malley is rarely wrong, I am coming to realize.

She’s smart. Fiercely loyal to my baby girl. And it appears that loyalty has been extended to me. As much as it gives me the warm and fuzzies, it still comes as a surprise.

“What if you guys stay at the lodge? I can come back after I ride. After the event. Nobody would know if I drop you there before.”

My gut turns over, twisting on itself. Why does that feel wrong in all kinds of ways?

Riley stops what she’s doing, and her arms hang, her eyes narrowing as she stares me down. “Of all the eejit ideas you’ve come up with. That one right there is by far the most hurtful.”

She abandons the food prep and walks from the kitchen, not looking back.

Fuck.

Heat and unease crash through my veins.

Fucking hell.

My forehead meets the counter. God above, I suck at this. I have literally no idea how to have what I want and keep what I have. Loosing a raw sound that sounds something like a wounded animal on the brink of their last breath, I close my eyes.

My fingers curl into my hair, and I haul in a breath that stretches my lungs until they hurt. Poor little rich boy, has it all and still can’t figure out how to love the girl who needs him most. Possibly whoheneeds the most.

“Ives is asleep. I’m going out.”

I snap my head up.

Riley walks past the counter, picking up her jacket from where she left it tossed over the back of one of the stools.

“Where are you going?” The words leave my mouth before I have the chance to filter them.

“Someplace that won’t cause you any shame, Lockwood.”

The door slams before I can fix what I broke.

Before I can tell her that I’m sorry. That I’m learning. That I’m stuck in the middle of the two things I want the most.

My phone buzzes on the counter with an incoming call, the screen lighting up.