Page 55 of Wildflowers & Whiskey

Chapter Twenty

Wade

I am out of my mind, but I don’t give a damn.

The rational part of my brain reels with all the reasons this can’t happen. She’s my employee. She’s too young. My son really likes her. She is leaving soon.

But I am choosing myself. Allowing myself to have something—someone—I want for once.

And that’s Maeve.

Her lips against mine are everything I fantasised about since her sassy mouth opened at the airport. I knew then this girl was going to be difficult for me to resist. I am surprised I lasted this long.

I want to believe it’s just need. A need driven by lust and attraction. Just a physical attraction that will be gone once we both scratch the itch.

But when she looked at me, after I finally let go of all the things I have been holding in for decades, something shifted. And I know I won’t be able to put that back in a box, so I got to ready myself for how complicated things will get.

The kiss is desperate, like the weeks of tug and war between us are pouring into every second of this kiss. Her lips are soft, and the little sound she makes as I pull her deeper into the kiss is going to replay in my mind for weeks to come.

I don’t want to pull away: to face the conversation we need to have after this. I have been so touch-deprived that my body is high on endorphins. I almost feel euphoric. Facing the reality of this situation will be a real comedown.

I wrap my hands around her, a hand cupping her ass, bringing her up further on her knees. There is no space between our bodies, and I know she can feel how solid I am in this moment. Her hands go up around my head, brushing through my hair and knocking my hat off.

God, this is perfect. I want more.

But the responsible adult in me knows the conversation needs to be had. That if we do this, we need to be on the same page. That, unfortunately, it can’t be more than a chapter in our lives that eventually comes to an end. Another secret I need to keep from Colt, and now, so does Maeve.

I slightly pull away, still holding her tight in my embrace so she knows I regret nothing in this moment.

“Maeve, we need to talk for a moment. Before—” I kiss her quickly, already missing the feel of her lips. “We go any further.”

Her face is flushed red, her hair tousled from our kiss. She sinks back again, perfectly in line with the bulge fighting against my jeans. Her eyes meet it and she smirks, but instead of teasing me more, she just agrees. Looking back up for me to start the conversation.

“There are a lot of reasons this shouldn’t happen.” The words leave me rough from everything that’s been dragged out tonight. “But I don’t think I’m strong enough to resist whatever this is between us. Call me a weak man, but… you see me, Maeve. You saw me before tonight, I know you did. Even when everyone’s probably telling you I’m an asshole.”

She snorts softly. “Well… I still think you’re an asshole.”

After everything I’ve just laid bare tonight, she still manages to pull a laugh from me. Me? The man who is known for his scowl.

“I want you, angel.” I hold her gaze. “And I know there’s something here between us.”

Maeve drops her head back with a frustrated groan, dragging both hands over her face before looking at me again.

“This is a lot in one night,” she says. “Secrets. Colt. Us.” She blows out a breath. “I think we should slow down. Think about whether this is actually a good idea… when you’re not half a bottle of whiskey deep.”

I lean back in my chair. The warmth from the whiskey still sits low in my chest. The twist in my stomach from the woman nestled in between my legs, on her knees, still looking a little dazed from our kiss. She’s downright intoxicating, and that’sdangerous. Because when it comes to her, I don’t think clearly.

“It’s not a good idea,” I admit. Her brows lift slightly in response.

“We’d have to be careful. No one can find out, especially Colt.” I drag a hand over my mouth before letting it fall again. “I’ve spent most of my life telling myself I don’t get to have the things I want.” My eyes stay on hers. “I tried doing the same with you.”

“How’s that going for you?” she asks with an unsteady little laugh.

A smirk pulls at my mouth. “Clearly not well.”

Maeve doesn’t laugh. She just sits there under the porch light, looking at me like she doesn’t know what to do.

I lean forward again, dipping my head a little lower so that we are close. “Maeve, if you need time,” I say, forcing some steadiness back into my voice, “that’s fine. I know tonight has been a lot. But whether it’s tonight with whiskey in my system or tomorrow stone cold sober…” I make sure I lock eyes with her when I say the next bit. “I’m still going to want this.”