Page 30 of Wildflowers & Whiskey

But still…

They’re gorgeous. A pale, powdery blue with navy embroidered floral vines swirling up the sides. The heel is barely there, just enough to give my short ass a lift without sacrificing comfort.

I spin. I twirl. I sway to Cowgirls, my favourite of Mr. Wallen’s, and it feels like I’m not wearing anything at all given how comfortable they are.

“Those don’t look like working boots.”

The gruff, straight-to-the-point voice startles me mid-spin.

“Afternoon, Wade,” Buck announces, confirming what I already. I'd have recognised that voice anywhere.

It's like the moment I start having fun, the bat signal goes up, and he comes swooping in to put a stop to it. Cowboy Batman. The crusader against good times.

The sass is bubbling in the depths of my soul, ready to be unleashed on this grump.

“I thought I was allowed to explore?” My tone sharpens, making it clear I won't be shoved back into whatever awkward corner he tried putting me in earlier. “I just decided to explore Buck's wonderful store. And for the record, I have absolutely no idea what I'm doing when it comes to working boots. City girl, remember?” I drag out the last two words just enough to land the point.

“If you tell me what kind of work this little lady does, I can set her up just fine,” Buck cuts in, calm and unbothered, like Wade's presence barely registers. “But my God, Wade, let the girl have some fun. She's leaving my shop with the smile I promised her, and I won't have you stomping in here with that grumpy front of yours and undoing my hard work.”

A front? Am I right? Is there more to Wade Carter deep below the surface? And if so, why is he so God damn distant?

Wade grunts—of course. “Well, you know full well she ain’t gonna be doing cattle roping. So, between ropers and working boots, it’s not exactly rocket science.”

“Don’t be giving me attitude, boy,” Buck fires back, his voice carrying that playful but stern edge.

Oh, Buck. My new favourite person.

Wade exhales slowly. “Apologies, Buck. It’s been a long day. I didn’t sleep—things have been on my mind.”

I don’t even need to guess what those things are. I already know. And I also know that I need to address this the moment when we are alone. Draw a line. Just move on so I can work and enjoy my time here while it lasts.

Buck, ever the saviour, pulls out a pair of plain working boots I tried on earlier. I let the men talk while I begrudgingly peel off the gorgeous boots, replacing them with my torture devices.

“Thank you for my makeover montage,” I say, handing the boots back over to him. “I’ll just take those bits over there. Including this hat, if that’s okay?”

“Course it is,” Buck says, slipping the blue boots behind the counter. “I’ll keep these aside for you, let you think on ’em.”

“That’d be great,” I smile, letting him know he achieved his goal.

Wade takes the bags from Buck before I even have the chance, carrying them out toward the truck without a word. I hang back a moment, watching his broad shoulders disappear ahead of me, mind racing.

He chucks the bags in the back of the truck and circles to the passenger side just as I approach. Without a word, he opens the door and waits until I've climbed in before shutting it firmly behind me. It's such a small thing. And I know it's just manners, probably just a southern charm thing. But I'm such an acts-of-service person that something about it quietly gets me every time. Even though it probably means fuck all to him.

Anyway, now’s a good time to rip the bandage off.

“Mr Cart—Wade.” My voice comes out steadier than I feel. “We need to talk about last night. What you saw… is totally normal, and I refuse to be ashamed of it. I didn’t know you were still in the house. And yes. Fine. I find you attractive because, well…” My hand waves vaguely in his direction. “Look at you. But I don’t particularly like you. You’re an asshole to me and pretty much everyone else. You don’t give anyone the time of day, and you just grunt. Which, by the way, is infuriating.”

I suck in a breath because, apparently, I forgot that’s an option between sentences. “And you. You walked in. I don’t know why, but that was inappropriate. I am your employee. Not your personal porn show that you can waltz in on. But for the sake of work and my sanity, I am willing to forget about it and move on. “

Wade’s lips part like he’s about to respond, but I do not let him. My hand shoots up, index finger raised, indicating for him to shush. “Oh, and let’s stop with those comments. Don’t act like you don’t know what I am going on about, because you do.”

And… Scene.

The silence stretches longer than expected, long enough to kickstart my anxiety.

Finally, he leans back in his seat, arms stretched across the steering wheel.

“Can I speak yet? Or are you gonna shush me again?”