Page 44 of Wild Rivals

She takes hold of my hand and drags me over to the table. I slide into one of the chairs, a hopelessness sinking into me as she moves the other one closer.

When I reach out for her hand, I squeeze it and say, “Promise me you won’t tell anyone, including Kade and Autumn.”

Chloe squeezes my hand back and replies, “I promise. Besides, I owe you. If you hadn’t offered me the job, I might not have had the balls to stay and then I’d be back in Seattle, miserable and all alone, wondering ‘what if’ about me and Kade.”

I nod, but I’m only half listening, too caught up in my own head to fully process what she’s saying. Am I really about to tell her what happened with Wyatt? I should give him a heads-up.

Right. Like he’d do the same for me. Besides, I know that Chloe won’t tell Kade. And yet, part of me still wants to walk away, to tell her that I’m fine with carrying the guilt all by myself.

When I don’t immediately give her the details, Chloe soothes, “You can trust me, Maddie. I know we’ve only known each other for a year, but I’d like to think we’re friends.”

I drop my chin, staring at my lap before I close my eyes and pull in a deep breath. A problem shared is a problem halved, right?

Exhaling, I turn my attention to her and say, “I got a call from Mr. Evergreen about a parcel of land we were bidding on. It was between us, the Wildes and a big corporation out of Billings. He said that Wyatt had made him an offer he couldn’t refuse. I saw red, Chlo.” I look out over the mountains standing tall in the distance through the open barn doors. “I jumped in my truck, drove to his place, banged on his door and then gave him a piece of my mind. One thing led to another, and we ended up having sex.”

“Angry sex, I like it. So, what about the second time?”

That one’s a little more complicated.

Standing, I move behind my chair, gripping the back of it until my knuckles turn white. “I was in the diner with a client when Wyatt approached us.”

Chloe gasps, before scrunching up her nose. “You had sex in the diner?”

I chuckle, shaking my head. “Eww, no. I’d like to still show my face around town, thanks.”

She presses a hand to her chest and replies, “Okay, good, because I like the pancakes there and I don’t think I’d ever be able to go again if you did. No offense.”

Shaking my head, I chuckle. “None taken.”

My laughter dies down and I shift my attention back to the mountains. It feels like I can channel a sense of strength from them if I look at them long enough.

“Basically, he was an ass and I told him off, but then he showed up at my place and one thing led to another. Again.”

Leaning toward me, Chloe looks around as if checking we’re alone before whispering, “Was it at least good?”

The best sex of my life, but I’m not about to tell anybody that, no matter how close we are. Instead, I nod before saying, “Now, can we get back to work.”

“Maybe one day we can compare notes about the brothers.” Chloe winks before standing and crossing the room.

We finish up with the shoot, and as I walk her back to her truck, I can’t help but think how good it feels to get that off my chest. But maybe trying the dating apps isn’t such a bad idea, even if it’s just something to put some distance between us.

27

WYATT

I kick off my work boots and stride into Grayson’s place like I own it. He follows behind me, but as I make a beeline for the kitchen, he heads upstairs to jump in the shower. It’s been a long day and I’m in need of some of my mom’s lemonade before I head home and figure out something for dinner. Given Gray’s house is where we always congregate after work—because it’s the closest to the yard—Mom always keeps a fresh supply of her lemonade on tap here.

Chloe’s sitting at the table, her nose buried in her laptop, when I stride into the kitchen.

“What are you working on?” I ask as I head for the refrigerator.

She jumps in her seat, exclaiming, “Oh my God, you scared me.” She presses a hand to her chest before adding, “Is Kade back? I’m just editing some photos and wanted to get them done before we go to dinner.”

I shake my head, turning to the cabinet and pulling a glass out. “He’ll probably be another ten minutes; he’s just finishing something up with Beau. You want a lemonade?”

“Great, and no, thanks.”

I turn back to the counter and pour myself a large glass. The citrus scent reminds me of my childhood and how we’d spend all day outside in the sun before rushing inside for some refreshments. I always picked the lemonade.