Chapter 20
Chapter Twenty
Jack
The hum of the tires on the asphalt fills the cab of my truck as I drive back to the ranch after helping Mom with some repairs to her house.
There is a gorgeous full moon tonight, lighting up the normally dark countryside in an eerie way.
It’s peaceful as I roll my windows down and inhale the fresh country air.
My phone buzzes on the passenger seat, the screen lighting up with Savannah’s name. Again. For the third time today. My stomach twists, but I don’t even reach for the phone. Whatever she thinks she needs to say, it doesn’t matter anymore. It hasn’t mattered for a long time.
Our divorce has been final. Our conversations are only through our lawyers now. That’s the way it has to be.
I have nothing left to say to a woman who cheated on me with my best friend. She didn’t even have the balls to tell me it was over. She had an entire relationship with him while spending my money.
The buzzing stops, and a moment later, it starts again—this time, a FaceTime request. A low growl escapes my throat as I grab the phone and decline the call. Then, before I can second-guess myself, I block her number. Should’ve done it the second that I caught her sleeping with him.
The weight in my chest eases just a little as I toss the phone back onto the seat. Savannah doesn’t get to take up space in my life anymore. Not when I’ve finally started to feel like I can breathe again.
It’s almost like she knows I’m starting to move on from her.
I shake my head, trying to shove that thought aside, but it lingers. Just like the way she lingers in the back of my mind, no matter how much I try to focus on anything else.
As I turn onto the long gravel drive leading to the ranch, a pair of headlights flash ahead. A car’s coming toward me, kicking up dust in its wake. When it gets closer, I recognize Rachel’s little sedan. She waves as she passes, and I nod back. Guess she was over at Brynn’s house.
When I pull into the driveway, the lights in Brynn’s house are all on, glowing warm and inviting against the night. I catch myself staring too long, hoping for a glance of her silhouette or something, and shake my head again.
Focus, Jack.
I park the truck and hop out, the cool evening air brushing against my skin. Before heading inside, I decide to swing by the barn for a quick check.
Maybe it’s a silly ritual I have. I’d rather sleep easy knowing everything’s locked up tight.
The barn smells of hay and leather, a comforting mix that always makes me feel at peace. I check the stalls, running a hand along the flank of one of the horses.
“All good, girl?” I murmur.
She snorts softly in response. The cattle are quiet, their low murmurs blending with the distant chirp of crickets. Satisfied, I double-check the locks on the doors before heading back out into the night.
“Let’s hope we get rain soon,” I say out loud to another one of the horses as I pat her head softly. “We need it before these crops and pastures burn up.”
She neighs as if she understands, and I chuckle to myself.
Animals have always been the best listeners.
I turn to leave the barn and jump backward when I see a shadow nearby.
Brynn’s standing a few feet away, her silhouette outlined by the glow from the barn’s exterior light.
She’s wearing jeans and a loose sweater, her hair falling in waves around her shoulders.
She looks startled to see me, her hand pausing midair like she was about to tuck her hair behind her ear.
She’s so beautiful. That stubborn, fiery side of her and this feminine, soft side of her, too.
“Jack,” she says, her voice a little breathless. “I didn’t realize you were out here.”
“Just checking on the barn,” I say, keeping my tone even. “What are you doing out this late?”
Her cheeks flush, and she shifts on her feet. “Rachel just left, and I thought I’d get some fresh air. Didn’t mean to bother you.”
“You’re not bothering me,” I say, though my pulse kicks up a notch. There’s something about the way she’s looking at me—like she’s unsure whether to stay or run.
We stand there for a moment, the silence stretching between us. She fidgets, her fingers brushing against her sweater. “Well, I should probably—”
She turns to leave, but her foot catches on a loose board sticking out of the ground. She stumbles, a sharp gasp escaping her lips as she pitches forward.
Before I can think, I’m there, my arms wrapping around her to keep her from falling. She lands against my chest, her hands gripping my shirt for balance.
Here we are again. Why does this keep happening? Luck?
For a minute, neither of us moves. Her face is inches from mine, her breath warm against my neck. Our eyes are locked on one another. I can see the yellow flecks in her green eyes, something I never noticed before.
Being this close to her is intoxicating. It’s like an invisible thread is pulling us together.
“You okay?” I ask, my voice low.
She nods, but she doesn’t pull away. Her eyes are wide and searching. It’s like she’s imploring me to make a move, but she’s not sure if she’s ready for what follows, either.
I shouldn’t be doing this. I have no business holding this woman in my arms or thinking about kissing her.
I’m not who she needs me to be. I’m not going down this road with any other woman. I’m not built to withstand another betrayal.
“Jack…” she whispers, but whatever she is going to say gets lost as I close the distance between us.
I know I shouldn’t be doing this, but I can’t help myself. I have to taste her again.
The kiss starts slow, tentative, like we’re both afraid to break whatever fragile thing is forming between us. But then her fingers curl into my shirt, and I tilt my head, deepening the kiss. She tastes like wine and garlic. My heart is racing.
My hands slide to her waist, pulling her closer. She fits against me like she was meant to be there, and for the first time in a long time, everything feels right. Perfect, even.
Her hands move to my shoulders, then up into my hair, and a low sound escapes me before I can stop it. The kiss turns urgent, heat building between us like a wildfire. I’m not sure where I end, and she begins, and I don’t care. All I know is that I don’t want this moment to end.
But eventually, we have to come up for air. She pulls back just enough to look at me, her lips swollen, and her cheeks flushed. Her eyes search mine, and I can see the same mix of emotions I’m feeling—want, fear, hope.
“Brynn,” I start, but she shakes her head, a soft laugh escaping her.
“Don’t,” she says, her voice trembling. “Don’t ruin it by talking.”
I smile, brushing a strand of hair out of her face. “Not planning to.”
She laughs again, but it’s softer this time, almost shy. “Good.”
I pull her into another kiss; this one is full of passion and hunger.
Maybe this is all wrong. I’m not ready to put my heart out there, but for whatever reason, with her, it doesn’t seem wrong or even scary.
It feels right.