Page 19 of The Lucky Heart (Jamison Valley 3)
“Sure.” He reached into the back and pulled out a flannel blanket. “Here you go.”
I stretched out as best I could in the cramped space and ended up with my head on his thigh. “Is this okay?” I asked, looking up into his eyes. Silas’s eyes were always so warm and smooth. Like chocolate frosting on freshly baked cake.
“Yeah. It’s okay.”
“Will you talk to me about something?”
“About what?”
I didn’t care. Anything. His voice was so pretty, all manly and deep, I’d be happy to listen as he read the phonebook. “How about the ranch?”
“The Lucky Heart?”
“Yeah. Tell me what you love about it.” I snuggled further into his space and closed my eyes as he told me ideas he had for his family’s ranch. He spoke quietly but with passion, his soothing voice echoing in the truck, easing all my worries away. Just as I was drifting off to sleep, the brush of his fingertips lifted a chunk of fallen hair from my forehead.
“Get some sleep, Lis,” he said.
I smiled.
“Lissy” I didn’t like.
“Lis” I did.
I drifted off to sleep, thinking that Silas Grant just might know me better than anyone else.
A few hours later, I woke to angry voices outside his truck. He’d driven us back to the farm.
“You fucked up.”
“I know. Fuck. I was really out of it.”
“Don’t do it again,” Silas warned Wes.
“Never. I swear. Where’s my girlfriend?”
The door opened and I propped myself up to look into Wes’s apologetic face. “I’m mad at you.”
“I’m sorry. So fucking sorry.”
The sincerity written on his face weakened my resolve not to ta
lk to him for a week. “You were so mean to me.”
“I know. I’m really fucking sorry.” I didn’t protest as he pulled me from the truck and cradled me in his arms. With his face buried in my hair, he apologized over and over. “Forgive me?”
“Forgiven. But no more drugs. Ever, Wes. You promised.”
“Right. No more drugs,” he said and started carrying me inside the house.
I looked over his shoulder at Silas and mouthed, “Thank you.”
He jerked up his chin but didn’t say a word. His frame was locked tight and he looked furious. But there was something else too. Pain, maybe? I couldn’t quite tell.
Along with that look, a mixture of new feelings swirled in my head.
I was confused about the boy I was dating, and the man standing outside that boy’s house.
Tears flooded my eyes as I clutched the picture to my chest. The guilt was so crippling and painful, I rocked back and forth to keep from getting sick.
