Chapter 48 You Think I’m Pretty
You Think I'm Pretty
Tripp
Ilick my lip, the metallic taste of blood still sharp on my tongue where Wes split it open earlier. I’m hoping the couple of hours I’ve given him is enough to calm him down so he won't come out of his front door swinging.
I groan when I get out of my truck, my ribs a little sore where I didn’t block his punch in time. I’m too old to be brawling on Pops’ front lawn.
Sawyer’s dog, Dixie, greets me at the porch, tongue lolling out in a doggy grin. I give her a belly rub, hoping spoiling their dog might earn me some brownie points.
Sawyer opens the door when I knock, leaning on the frame with her arms crossed and a glare that makes my balls shrivel up.
“Sawyer,” I say tentatively.
“Did you come to say something idiotic so Wes will kick your ass some more?”
I snort. “No. I came to apologize.”
Her lips twitch, and she nods toward the stable. “He’s been out there with the horses since we got home.”
“Did he go riding?”
She shakes her head. “No. Just sulking while he grooms Luci and does night check.”
“Thanks.”
She arches a brow. “Might not be thanking me if he ends up still pissed as hell and throws more punches. I’m not saving you this time.”
I snort. “Would never expect you to,” I say as I make my way back down the porch steps.
If Sawyer had to choose between me and Wes, I knew she’d choose Wes every time.
“Good luck,” she calls.
I pick up my stride, eager to get this conversation over with so we can go back to being best friends again. And so I can fix things with Quinn.
The rumble of Wes’ voice slows me. He’s talking to the horses, words too low to catch. My boots scuff the floor, and he turns, frowning when he sees me. His left eye is turning black and blue, and his nose looks a little swollen.
“What the hell are you doing here?”
“Sawyer told me you were out here doin‘ night check. Figured I could lend you a hand.”
“Don’t need your help,“ he grumbles.
Stubborn ass.
“Suit yourself. I’ll sit here and apologize while you do all the work.”
He skewers me with a glare, but keeps shoveling hay into the feeders with sharp, angry movements.
“I’m sorry you found out about me and Quinn like that. We should have told you. I suggested it, but she said it’d be pointless to get you upset when she wasn’t staying.”
“Oh, that’s rich. Blaming it on her to save your own ass?”
I sigh. “I’m not blaming her. I should’ve told you, even if she didn’t want me to. I was trying to respect what she wanted. Keep things simple.”
He snorts derisively. “How’d that work for ya?”
“I complicated it,” I admit. “I fell in love with her.”
He glares. “Don’t bullshit me.”
There’d be no more bullshitting—with Wes or Quinn. It was time to come clean with both of them.
I raise my hands in surrender. “I’m not bullshitting, Wes. I love her.”
He looks at me skeptically. “She told me it wasn’t serious.”
“Maybe that’s what she thinks,” I say with a shake of my head, “but I’ve always cared about Quinn. It was never gonna be anything but serious for me.”
His jaw ticks. “You can’t just play with her feelings like that, Tripp.”
I sigh, staring up at the stable’s ceiling. “I’ve never been sure I could be anyone’s forever. That’s not me playing with her feelings—that’s me being scared shitless I’d screw it up.”
“Good. You should be scared of screwing it up. She’s got goals, a serious career, a fucking plan. She doesn’t need you holding her back.”
His words cut like glass. I’m being raw and real, and it feels like he just threw it all back in my face.
“I would never hold her back,” I say. “That’s why I told her to go to Denver.”
"Wait—" Wes blinks, taken aback. “What?”
I nod, jaw tight. “I told her to take that job. What she wants always comes first.”
“But you love her,” he says, brows drawing together.
Another nod. The words fall out of me. “More than anything.”
He studies me for a long beat, eyes dark with doubt. “So, what are you gonna do?”
I shrug. “Follow her. If she’ll have me.”
Wes scratches at his beard, the fight draining out of him. “You’d really leave this all behind?” he asks, gesturing widely to encompass everything that’s ever mattered to me.
I could live without a lot of things—without my family, without the ranch and the wide-open spaces, without the small town I grew up in. But she was the air I breathed. I couldn’t live without her.
The weight of it lands heavy in my chest, but my answer’s steady. “If it means being with her? Yeah.”
Silence falls between us, broken only by Luci snorting in his stall.
"Shit," Wes finally mutters.
I let out a dry laugh. “I’ll make sure you have a replacement before I go.”
He shoves the pitchfork into the hay. “If you hurt her, I won’t hesitate to ruin that pretty face of yours again.”
I smirk. “You think I'm pretty?" I tease, batting my lashes.
He snorts. “Get the fuck out of here.”
I clap him on the back and walk out of the stable, ready to tell Quinn all the things I’ve been wanting to say since that first kiss in my hot tub.