Chapter 8
CHAPTER EIGHT
Serenity was right, dang it.
Toying with Wendy this way was so much more satisfying.
Tripp could actually see the cogs in her mind working overdrive just to try to figure out what he was up to. All it had taken was for him to offer her a treat. Such a simple gesture and yet her entire world had started to crumble.
He moved away from her and toward the table where they had other food for grilling. Yes, they’d already eaten dinner, but those who wanted a late-night snack could grill up some hotdogs along with the s’mores.
Against his will, his eyes drifted toward Wendy. She was staring into the fire and if he wasn’t mistaken, he could see her lips moving. Was she talking to herself? Arguing with herself?
He laughed under his breath.
“I knew it.”
Tripp stiffened at Reese’s voice, but he didn’t look him in the eye. He’d been somewhat quiet during his last conversation with Serenity. It was hard to say how he felt about Tripp’s behavior with Wendy. Apparently if Serenity wasn’t bothered then Reese was willing to let things slide.
When Tripp didn’t respond to Reese, his cousin clarified. “You don’t hate her, do you?”
This time Tripp rolled his eyes. “Oh, come on. Just because I gave her a s’more?
You heard your fiancée. It’s better to kill her with kindness.
And she was right.” Tripp gestured toward Wendy with a jerk of his chin.
“See that? She’s on edge. She’s talking to herself.
” He grinned wickedly. “That women can’t figure out what my game is anymore.
And the stress of trying to do that when I’m not playing predictably is eating at her. ”
Reese considered him for a moment then he shook his head. “Nope. I don’t buy it.” He pointed a fork at Tripp. “I saw the way you were looking at her. You’re staring just a little too hard. I think you’re into her.”
“What?” Tripp guffawed. “As if. That woman is the most infuriating person on the entire planet. She’s single minded and closed off. She’s all cactus spines and goat heads.”
“And yet you’re looking at her like—”
“Like a wild horse that needs breaking,” Tripp finished for Reese. “One of us is bound to break and it isn’t going to be me. I assure you.”
Reese arched a brow. “Yeah, good luck with that.”
Tripp waved a dismissive hand and returned to the log where Wendy was seated. He settled beside her, bracing his forearms on his knees as he stared into the fire.
Wendy stiffened visibly at his side. And when he didn’t say anything, she murmured, “What? No more peace offerings?”
He grinned, but didn’t tear his eyes from the flames. “Why would I want peace when it’s so much more fun to rile you up?”
“So, you do admit that this is a game?”
“I never said it wasn’t.”
She opened her mouth, but no words came out.
Tripp chuckled then blew out a breath. “I will say that it’s been a long day and I’m tired. These people are my family and they already have their opinions set. After that stunt you pulled at that barbeque, their opinions can’t get much worse.
Maybe it was his imagination, but it really looked as though Wendy grimaced. Did she feel guilty for the way she’d behaved? Not likely. Then again, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t reconcile the woman seated beside him with the woman who wanted nothing more than to put him in his place.
Wendy’s shoulders relaxed somewhat. “Yeah, I’m tired too,” she admitted.
He eyed her curiously. Today? Or in general.
It was a lot of work to be on one’s guard all the time.
Maybe she’d finally reached the point where she didn’t want to put up a fight anymore.
Why did that thought fill him with unexpected joy?
Certainly not because he was interested in getting to know her a little better, right?
What was the real Wendy like? The girl behind the scowls and biting comments?
The enigma who could appreciate the beauty of the old in the world but could also rough it and find nature just as enticing?
“Why are you looking at me like that?”
Tripp startled. Wendy’s suspicious gaze came into focus and he shrugged. “I’m curious, is all.”
“Curious about what?” she asked.
“You, mostly.”
Wendy seemed taken aback by his straightforward response, so much so that her lips parted but nothing came out. One slow blink later, Tripp chuckled.
“Relax, sweetheart. It’s not weird.”
“I beg to differ,” she murmured. Her lower lip rolled between her teeth and she tore her focus from him toward the fire. Then so quiet, he almost didn’t hear her, she asked, “What do you want to know?”
Tripp smiled. While it was tempting to ask her why she hated him so much, he knew better. She wasn’t about to tell him anything. Right now, she had let down her walls even if it was only a little. Safe questions would be smarter.
He cleared his throat. “Why Rocky Ridge?”
“Pardon?”
“Why move to Rocky Ridge? You mentioned you were from Georgia, so unless you moved here with family…” he drawled, leaving the question open-ended.
She nodded. “Your assumption is correct. My family didn’t move out this way. I’m on my own.” Her voice was soft and if he wasn’t mistaken, he could hear a twinge of loneliness.
“That must be hard—not being close to your family.”
“Yeah.” Wendy gestured around the campfire. “But I have a few close friends. And I love this town. It reminds me a lot of home.”
“So why did you pick here? What is it about this place that drew you in?”
Wendy studied him for a moment then sighed.
“It’s really not that interesting of a story.
My grandmother’s best friend owned the antique shop.
She didn’t have kids of her own, so she left it to my grandma.
I was the only one in our family who was willing to move out here to take care of it.
Otherwise, it would have closed.” She shrugged.
“And yeah, Rocky Ridge is a cute little town that reminds me a lot of home. It wasn’t a hard decision. ”
“But it’s not what you want to do.”
Once again, her body went still and her eyes found his, full of shock. “How do you know that?”
He didn’t. But if he were honest with himself and her, he’d tell her that she didn’t seem the type to dream of running a shop like that one. It was a job. It might be enjoyable, but it wasn’t a dream.
Tripp could relate. He liked the work he did, but was it his dream?
Nope. He’d never admit to his dream, though.
His family would laugh him right off the ranch.
Being a wrangler was a safe bet. He nudged Wendy with his knee.
“Tell me something real, sweetheart. What’s going on in that pretty little head?
What would you do if you could do anything? ”
This was probably the longest stretch where Wendy didn’t have her brows furrowed or her lip curled with discontent. Her smooth, relaxed features made her even more angelic. Wendy tilted her head and one side of her mouth twitched.
“I know that look,” he murmured. “This is gonna be good.”
And just like that, the sparkle in her eyes dimmed. “Don’t make fun of me.”
He held up both hands and shook his head. “I swear I won’t make fun of you. Cross my heart.”
She squinted at him. “Easy to say that when you don’t have a heart.”
His mouth dropped open and he held a hand to his chest. “Ouch.”
Wendy flinched. “Sorry.”
He chuckled. “I’ve got tough skin. Don’t worry about it.”
She blew out a breath and shifted her attention to the firelight. “Fine. But you promised and if you laugh, you’ll get it.”
“I don’t doubt that,” he muttered under his breath, earning himself another rare smile.
“I want to write a book.”
His brows lifted. “That’s…”
Wendy pointed at him. “You promised.”
Tripp bit the inside of his cheek to fight the smile. His amusement to her reaction more than anything else. “No,” he insisted. “I was going to say that’s… commendable.”
Her eyes narrowed further. She didn’t trust him, but maybe she wanted to? “Commendable,” she muttered flatly.
He nodded. “Sure. How many people do you know who could write a book, put all their hopes, dreams, blood, sweat, and tears into a work of art and risk the world judging it?”
Wendy blinked several times, emotion clouding her eyes. “You’re not teasing?”
Without thinking, he reached forward and placed a hand on her knee. “No, Wendy. I’m not. I can appreciate the work and effort it takes to be a creator. I can understand the way fear can hold someone back from accomplishing that goal.”
Their gazes were locked for a few moments, shadows flickering across their faces from the crackling fire. Then she whispered, “Do you have a dream like that?”
Tripp shook his head with a chuckle. “No. I don’t think I have a creative bone in my body. But I’ve had friends who do. Girls I dated.”
One second, she was open and yearning for this…
connection they had. And in the next she shut herself down.
Wendy pulled away from him, forcing his hand to drop from her knee.
He frowned at the loss of contact but didn’t comment on it.
He had no business getting attached to her.
She hated him. And he wasn’t supposed to fall for her, either.
Sure, he’d tease her about it. He reveled in poking the bear that was seated beside him.
But a connection? The idea was laughable.
Or was it?
Shifting, he sat up a little straighter and turned so he faced the fire. “You start on anything yet?”
“What?” she asked.
“Writing. You have a manuscript started? That’s what they call it, right?”
She was quiet for so long he almost thought he’d said something wrong. And when he glanced in her direction, the hard lines in her features all but confirmed it.
“I don’t know why you would care.”
There she went again, making it so hard to just have a decent conversation. Still, those fleeting moments when he could make her smile had him fighting for another taste. Tripp sighed. “Maybe I don’t.”
That caught her attention. She didn’t look at him, but she did still her own fidgeting.
“Or maybe I’m a good person with dreams of my own. Maybe those dreams might seem strange or odd and I would rather not tell anyone than to share that secret and get laughed at.”
Slowly, her head turned and he could feel the heat of her gaze on the side of his face.
Tripp turned his hands so his palms faced upward.
“And maybe since you don’t care for me at all, it would be easier for you to divulge something without fear of being judged because who am I to you?
” He met her gaze. “And since I’m such a nice guy, I’d put up with your snark and spirit if you wanted to hash out what’s holding you back. ”
“What makes you think I’m holding back?”
He could tell the question was supposed to hold some bite to it.
At the very least, she’d wanted to gain the upper hand.
Unfortunately, her words came out breathily and fueled by an undeniable longing for everything he’d just said.
“Just a hunch. Dreams that take courage are the hardest ones to start because the fear of failure weighs heavier on your mind.”
Wendy released a shaky breath. “Yeah, it does.”
Tripp watched her, waiting for her to… what exactly? Spill all her secrets and confide in him? He hated just how much he wanted that—for both of them. Because if she did that, he had a strong feeling that he’d be losing a piece of himself.
Worst of all, that piece she’d be stealing wasn’t something he’d ever get back.
Her small, pink tongue poked from her lips.
Then she worked her jaw, clenching and relaxing.
Eyes darted this way and that before she heaved a heavy sigh.
“I’ve started,” she finally confessed. “But I haven’t made it past the outlining stage.
All the information is there. The characters.
The setting. The plot. I just...” She lifted her eyes to the sky and dragged a finger beneath each one.
Then she released a shaky breath. “I guess I don’t know what is holding me back. ”
He couldn’t breathe. Not since the day he’d met this woman had she shown any sign of vulnerability. Not with anyone—and he’d been observing her every chance he’d gotten.
Saying the wrong thing would have her bolting. He couldn’t afford that.
Tripp cleared his throat and grunted as he got to his feet. “You’ll figure it out.”
Her eyes found his, shining with hope as if his word was law.
Winking, he shoved his hands into his pockets. “One day.”
Wendy’s mouth parted and a surprised laugh spilled from them as he turned and walked away. “I still hate you,” she called after him.
“Yeah,” he shot back, turning so he was forced to walk away from her backward. “But one day you’ll love me.”