CHAPTER NINETEEN
WEST
“I CAN’T BELIEVE ROSIE HAD THE STAFF BRING THOSE BUMPERS OUT FOR Rhys.” Skylar laughs the words from where she’s sitting a little crooked in the passenger seat beside me.
I handle the wheel carefully and bite down on my smile. “I can. Rosie takes her shit-talk seriously. You should have seen her and Ford when we were kids. Out to kill each other with their jabs.”
“Turns out they just wanted to fuck each other.”
I bark out a laugh. Tipsy Skylar has zero filter, and I love it.
“They’re a cute couple,” she adds, a wistful note in her voice.
“They are.”
“They’re good friends, aren’t they?”
I peek over at her as we hit the last stoplight on the road that leads us back to the farm. “They are.”
“They genuinely enjoy each other’s company.”
I nod. “Yeah, they do.”
Skylar hums, lips working as though she is chewing on those words. I wonder if she’s thinking about what I told her about Mia and me.
“That must be nice.”
My palms twist on the wheel as her words hit unexpectedly hard for drunken mumblings. “Mm-hmm,” I manage to get out, but then we fall into silence as we cover the final stretch back home.
Home.
An ache cracks my chest. During the weeks I don’t have the kids, it doesn’t feel much like home. I thrive in social situations, surrounded by friends and family. The horses are great companions, but they’re often not
enough.
When Ford moved back, I looked forward to having my best friend around, but our dynamic has changed. And I don’t begrudge him one bit.
But some days I meander around the property, searching for things to do.
Wondering if no matter how fun and likable I am, there’s something about me that isn’t enough to keep people around.
People who enjoy my company and don’t just want to tie me down.
Lately, I’m not sure if that’s better or worse than being on my own.
With this in mind, I pull up in front of the house and proclaim, “You shouldn’t go to sleep yet. You’ve had too much tequila.”
She directs her amber eyes to me as I turn the truck off. “You don’t have to take care of me. I’ve been drunk before.”
“I know,” I say before I hop out of my seat and round the truck to her side. I tug open the door and look up at her.
She turns, pointy heels catching on the side runner of my truck. Her eyes cascade over me as though she’s sizing me up. “Can we do night check, then?”
I perk up, a grin stretching my lips. “I’ll grab you a bottle of water.”
Without even thinking, I reach for her. My hands wrap around her rib cage, and I lower her to the ground, purposely ignoring how the flats of her palms feel against my pecs. The way her pinky moves in a stuttering path, out and back in.
The motion draws both our eyes for a beat, but she clears her throat and steps away.
“Helping me out of cars now, huh? Thought you knew you don’t need to take care of me.”
My throat feels hot and so do my cheeks as I turn away. I need to go get her a bottle of water before I do something stupid like shove her up against my truck and kiss her.
So I stride toward the old farmhouse, but not without glancing over my shoulder and calling back to her, “I know I don’t need to. Doesn’t stop me from wanting to, though.”
When Skylar asked if we could do night check, she meant she was going to talk my ear off while I did night check.
She’s giving me big Emmy vibes, and that is such a stark change for her in a matter of a week that I’m not even mad about doing all the work.
One hand has her heels hooked on her fingers, while the other hand holds an open water bottle.
“…and honestly, I’m not sure why she hates him. She wasn’t exactly forthcoming. Rosie seemed shocked by the news of her sister’s passing.”
That last bit brings me up short and I stop, dropping the wheelbarrow down on the concrete. “Erika is dead?”
Skylar’s features turn downwards, like it hurts her to confirm it. “Yeah.”
“When?”
“About a month ago.”
“Jesus.” I comb my fingers through my hair, absorbing the death of a woman far too young to die. Seems like just yesterday I saw her at school.
Except it wasn’t yesterday. We’re not in high school anymore, and it feels like it went by in a blink.
I think about Ollie and Emmy and how fast they’ll grow up.
Then I think of how it would feel to lose one of them.
It’s fucking unbearable.
“Is that why Rhys is here? That guy doesn’t tell us shit.”
“I don’t know. She didn’t tell us shit about him either. My only real
takeaway is that she hates him.”
I swallow. It does seem that way.
“Gonna have to pay her family a visit. Check on Tabby,” I choke out before turning away to hang my utility knife on its hook.
“You’re a good man, West.”
I nod, but my throat feels too thick to talk. Poor Erika. What a sad fucking story. I swipe a hand beneath my nose and turn back to Skylar’s wide eyes and glossy lips.
I scramble for something to say that will lighten the mood and pull my head out of that depressing news. I settle on, “I can’t believe you’re walking around the barn in bare feet.”
We both glance down. Her cute toes wiggle on the dusty concrete floor.
Skylar seems unbothered, though. She shrugs it off. “It feels good.”
That makes me smile. But as her words settle, they reroute my brain.
Suddenly I’m thinking about Skylar. And feeling good.
“Is that your new motto? If it feels good, do it?”
Her eyes flare and her teeth strum over her bottom lip. Once. Twice.
God, the way this girl looks at me. Her eyes are like an open book. An
instruction manual.
“Guess so.”
An almost nervous swipe of her tongue over those plush lips as her eyes rake over my body and I’m practically panting.
“So what are you going to do now?”
Her cheeks flush, and we both know that even though she said she’s scrubbed that kiss from her brain—she’s thinking about it.
And so am I.
But she’s also gun shy and doesn’t fully trust me—or herself—because she drops my stare. “Go to bed.”
My head tilts. “That always feels good.”
She huffs out a laugh and peers up at the bank lighting above us. “Why does everything you say sound sexual?”
My cheeks hitch and I toss her a wink when she finally peeks over at me.
“You and your tequila brain might be employing a little wishful thinking. I’m just talking about going to bed. I didn’t say together.”
“Wishful thinking?” Her jaw drops.
“Hey, I’m just calling it how I see it. I’m not sure if you remember, but you kissed me.”
Her feet pad across the floor as she approaches me. Her shoulder bumps into mine on the way past. She must be heading for the door behind me.
Going to bed. All alone.
But then she stops and looks me in the eye. “Yeah, yeah, yeah. But you know what, Weston?” Her voice is low, so I bend slightly to listen. She stands on her tiptoes and hits me with a salacious smirk right as she whispers, “You’ve been dreaming about kissing me back. And I’m thinking that if I kissed you again, right here…you wouldn’t pull away.”
Her warm breath grazes the shell of my ear and my tongue darts out as though I could taste her. An electric shock skitters across my skin when she reaches out and runs her pinky finger along the side of my hand that hangs limply at my side.
The touch is subtle, but there’s no doubt in my mind that Skylar Stone is flirting with me. And she’s doing a bang-up job.
My fist clenches, grasping at air. Because she’s already gone. Marching
straight out of my barn and into the dark night.
Leaving me to go to bed all by myself.