Page 40 of Wildflowers & Whiskey

He sets his glass down and turns, leaning back against the counter with his arms crossed, eyes on Bryan like I haven't just been claimed like an item on a to-do list. “You take care of getting that bit of land sorted. We'll cover the fencing while we're out.”

“Awesome.” Bryan points finger guns at Wade, which Wade does not acknowledge. “Cheers, Bull. Right, I'm off.” He gathers his things, shoots me a grin that says good luck, and within about thirty seconds flat, it's just me and Wade in the kitchen.

The familiar silence settles thick between us. Wade pushes off the counter, rinses his glass, and sets it on the rack. Then he turns and looks at me properly for the first time since he walked in.

“I'll see you in the morning. Make sure you get a good night's sleep. You're going to need it.”

He is gone a moment later, and I'm left standing in the kitchen holding a bag of peanut butter cups and wondering what the hell is going on with the Carter men today.

I stare at the spot where he was standing and shove a chocolate in my mouth.

Then another.

She's with me tomorrow. Not an option, a command.

I polish off the last of the peanut butter cups, letting today hit me all at once. Colt’s odd behaviour at the barn, and now Wade, walking in and quietly rescheduling tomorrow like it's nothing.

My stomach flips, and I know it’s not from nearly finishing the family-sized bag of chocolates.

Iris better be ready for this episode of The Cowboy Chronicles, because it sure has left me on a cliffhanger, and I don't even know which Carter man is confusing me more right now.

Chapter Fourteen

Wade

Three hours of sleep, maybe less, and here I am, driving toward the main house at this ungodly hour. All because I couldn’t stand another minute staring at the ceiling of my cabin with a brain that would not shut the fuck up.

My headlights cut through the darkness as I pull up to my destination. Her spot is empty.

Of course it is. I’m forty minutes earlier than usual. But my eyes still dart to Mom’s old swing chair on the porch, the one Maeve’s taken a liking to, where she curls up every morning with that e-reader she’s attached to.

It’s become a habit, searching for her in this little morning routine I didn’t mean to fall into.

It started as curiosity, I tell myself. I'm not a man who is easily intrigued, and yet this woman showed up on my ranch and held herself in a room full of over-testosteroned cowboys, including me, and didn’t fold like most people would.

She's proved she can work too. Keeps up with men twice her size without complaint. Well… Only complaining when she thinks someone's babying her, which to be fair, is a reasonable complaint.

She knows how she wants to be treated and doesn’t take anything less. I admire that. Even when I'm on the receiving end of that smart mouth of hers, because, damn, she looks good when riled up. Too good.

The professional distance I'd planned on keeping has been crumbling down for weeks. I know it. And I keep finding reasons to stand closer to the edge anyway.

I’ve caught myself more than once watching the beads of sweat roll down her chest, disappearing between her breasts as they spill out of the little tank tops she chooses to wear. Inappropriate as hell for ranch work, but I haven’t said a word. I won’t be either.

There are lines I still can’t cross. And won’t be crossing. It would complicate too many things, so I need to get my head straight and get through today. A day I got myself into because I didn't trust Bryan alone with her. Love the guy, but he's a dog when it comes to women.

Problem is, I'm beginning to think I can’t trust myself any better.

I let myself into the house, moving past Ruby's paintings that Colt refuses to let me take down. I’ve never argued about it. He needs them there, and if it’s another thing that will bring him some happiness, then I will grin and bear the daily reminder of the woman who, till this day, weighs my life down.

The paintings are beautiful; I’ll give her that. Ruby could always find beauty in things others missed. She saw something in me once, back when we were kids. Pushed me to want more, to chase my dreams. Until it was no longer convenient for her.

The smell of fresh coffee hits me as I enter the kitchen, but with one sweep, I confirm it’s empty. She must already be up. Should’ve known, I don’t think that woman gets any sleep.

Where was she, though?

I head for the family lounge first, hoping I don't find her in there, because the idea of her knowing too much about me sits uncomfortably. That room is the last place that holds any trace of who we were before everything broke into pieces. Before Ruby left. Before Dad died. Before I became the version of myself that Colt resents and most people keep a careful distance from.

The door pushes open with little effort. The room’s empty. The breath that comes out through my nose is harder than intended.