Chapter 56 Dizzying Claustrophobia
JADE
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I CAN’T KEEP my eyes off him.
And now I don’t have to.
He’s gorgeous standing by the barbecue grilling steak.
Sleeves shoved up.
Forearms dusted with smoke and salt.
Worn jeans hugging his hips just right.
String lights overhead, loop between the tent poles, and drape across the canvas ceiling, casting a soft glow over him. His hat is tipped low, throwing his eyes into shadow, but not enough to miss the way he looks at me.
Again.
And I don’t look away—can’t. I could drink in this man forever, and I plan to.
Sizzle.
Flip.
Flames lick the edge of the steaks, and he doesn’t even flinch. Just tongs one, gives it a perfect turn, and leans back, his gaze back on me.
He’s driving me completely crazy just by existing.
Then, Mayor Thomas steps in, pointing at the grill, asking about heat levels or flipping times.
Hart tears his gaze from mine, slow and reluctant, like it actually hurts to look away.
He clears his throat, looking grumpy as hell, and answers the mayor with that gruff tone of his. Even the tightening of his hand on the tongs gives away his irritation.
“That banner is about to fall.” Dean bites his forkful of steak, not taking the time to swallow before he talks again. “Where is Sterling? He said he’d go up and get it since all he’s had time to do is brag about his wins.”
Another mouthful.
“He’s doing exactly the opposite. Bragging, but not about winning.” Levi points across the room where Sterling stands with his wife and their newborn, furthest away from the music they can get.
Hope and Harper practically jump to their feet. My sister takes a moment longer, her round middle slowing her rise. Levi and Harper both offer their hands and help her rise. Then the two women make their way to visit the newborn.
“Ya’ll havin’ fun tonight?” Famuos country singer’s voice cracks through the speaker as the song they’ve just played slowly ends.
Cheers explode around him—the dance floor’s wall-to-wall boots. We were lucky as hell to rope him into the appreciation dinner we sponsored. It helps that he’s a local from Rocky Ridge Creek and is still down-to-earth. Sure, he’s a star now, but he’s still just a hometown guy at heart.
“I see some of y’all dancin’ like nobody’s watchin’. And buddy, I promise you, we’re all watchin’.” With a sharp gesture toward the crowd, he sets off a wave of chuckles.
He’s known for putting on a good show, and he’s not disappointing tonight. The crowd is eating out of his hands.
“This one goes out to the folks who grew up on backroads, bonfires, and broken hearts.” He strums his guitar, and after singing a few solo lines, the band joins him.
“Is he going to play Boobies and Booze?” Dean mops sauce off his face with a napkin.
“He always does.” Hart’s voice does all kinds of things to me.
The roughness, the deep mess, the way it has a soft spot for me.
How did he get over here so quickly? Not that I’m complaining. The opposite. I want to pull him down beside me and demand that he take a break.
His hands rest on my shoulders, and his thumb traces circles. I melt into his touch; the simple contact sends heat searing through me.
Will his touch always have this reaction on me?
Lord, I hope so.
“But it’s never the same when his pa isn’t on the stage with him,” he says.
He’s right. His father is an absolute hoot on the stage with his son. The duo performs a comedic version of the song, with Mr. Buckley getting a bit too handsy.
I tilt my head up to Hart. “And that song always gets the guys going.”
He smirks as he bends down, meeting his lips with mine. His tongue dives between my lips with no signs of reservation, being around our families.
He’s claiming me.
I’m his, and not a damn person, feud, or secret is going to stand in our way.
I love him for it. I love him for every moment he protected me and every moment he broke to do just this.
“You get me going,” he whispers, all rough and husky.
I rub my lips together, enjoying the delicious taste of local sauces, beer, and him.
“My god, get a room,” Dean grumbles, like he doesn’t enjoy it.
We all know differently.
“And go fix that banner while you’re at it.” He points to the Wilde banner that’s slipped down above the stage.
Hart shakes his head. “You go do it. You put it up there to start with.”
Dean polishes off his steak and shockingly waits to swallow his food and take a gulp of beer before replying.
“I’ve had too many of these to be climbing up any height.” He polishes off the beer, too.
“I ain’t doin’ it.” I feel Hart’s fingers tighten on my shoulder. “Wyatt, Bronx, Levi, I don’t care who does it, but it’s not gonna be me.”
“Someone’s gotta do it before it falls on Buckley.” Dean lifts Harper’s half-full mug to Hart before guzzling it too.
“I’ve had a couple too many beers myself.” Levi sits back, looping his fingers under his belt. “I ain’t seeing straight.”
“You bunch of drunks,” Hart growls, but I agree with him. “What would you have done if I weren’t here?”
They glance at each other, neither able to find an answer.
Hart shakes his head. “Figure it out.”
“Shit.” Dean stands. “I’ll figure it out.”
“Good idea.”
Dean grumbles something about Sterling as he stalks off.
Hart bends down to me. “I have to get back to the barbecue.”
“Okay.”
“Can I get you anything else?”
“I’m good.”
He kisses me again. When he lifts his head, my fingers curl around his neck, and I drag his ear to my mouth.
“Go on, be responsible. I’ll just be here, remembering how your hands felt last night.”
His shoulders tense, and he lets out a slight guttural sound from his chest.
His lips are on mine again. “You drive me wild.”
I smirk against his mouth. “I know.”
“Let’s go, lazy ass.” Hart smacks Levi upside the back of the head. “Meat to grill.”
“Isn’t that Dean’s thing?” His brother tosses a napkin on the table. “Besides, I have to check on my wife.” He makes a beeline in the opposite direction.
“It’s the mayor,” I tell Hart. “He’s got his nose too deep in your barbecue that he’s driving your brothers crazy.”
“He’s driving me crazy.”
“Go tell him the banner is crooked.”
A smirk rises at the corner of his mouth. “On it.”
I watch him strut off. That tight ass in his jeans. His back muscles flex through his T-shirt.
He glances back at me a few times with a promising look of all the things he’ll do to me tonight.
Naughty.
Loving.
I love the way I can rattle him. That big macho cowboy liquifies under my touch.
When I glance back at the table, I hadn’t realized everyone was quiet and now staring at me.
“What?” I ignore that my lips still taste like Hart.
“You’re glowing.” Natalie tilts her drink toward me with a grin. “That’s a Wilde-glow if I’ve ever seen one.”
“Oh, it’s the glow of post-orgasm bliss.” Josie fans herself. “I mean, she did disappear with him for a long time after the steer roping.”
“I’m pretty sure she even had rope in her hand as they strode away.” I’m shocked at Hannah’s addition.
“We all know he likes kinks, so the question is, how much do you like the kinks?” Josie waits like I’m going to answer her.
I like the kinks a lot.
All of the kinks.
All the fetishes.
Every kink and fetish alongside Hart.
But I like the lovemaking too—the cuddling, caressing, and all the sweet things he says to me.
I don’t tell them any of that.
“She does.” Natalie smiles. “It’s written all over your face.”
My sister’s crack.
I wasn’t expecting Natalie to join in on my sisters’ teasing. I blame it on the drinks they’re enjoying.
“Hey, be nice. She’s practically family now.” Levi pulls out a chair for Hope.
His palm hovers near her back like a safety net. Hope eases herself down with both hands on her belly.
Practically, family is a little soon, but instead of saying it, I smile and sip my drink.
“Before we know it, she’ll be an official Wilde.” Hope spears a pickle with her fork.
“Alright, let’s not get carried away.” I feel those familiar walls inching back together.
The ones I use to protect myself, to be in control.
“Living at North Wilde Ridge.” Levi sits beside his wife, arm slung over the back of her chair. “Hart was just talking about it yesterday.”
What is North Wilde Ridge?
“It’s one of the Wilde properties.” When Hope answers, I wonder if I’ve asked out loud.
“They’ve got land sprinkled all around Rocky Ridge Creek, and they’ve named the properties.
” Hope’s eyes flicker toward the pitcher of sweet tea, and before the thought even settles, Levi’s hand is on the handle.
“Like the cottage Sterling and Ellie are fixin’.” The ice clinks as he fills her glass. “And North Wilde Ridge already has a cabin. Fixer-upper, but Hart was keen on getting it done. Even asked me to help him.”
“Oh.” Did I say that?
“In that case. I bet you’ll be movin’ in by summer’s end.” Josie fans her face with a napkin after eating another spicy wing.
That’s absolutely not happening. I’m not planning on just moving in with Hart. Good Lord, we’ve spent the last ten years hating each other. I’m not about to give up my space and jump into a house with him, on Wilde land.
“Next thing you know, she’ll be raising horses and babies.” Josie smacks her lips together and reaches for her tall glass of sweet tea.
Babies?
I almost choke on my own spit.
I’m not ready to have babies, if I ever am. I’ve never pictured babies. Does Hart want kids?
My mind starts whirling.
I’m not giving up the life I’ve built for myself overnight because we suddenly realize we want to be with each other.
“Mrs. Hart Wilde,” Hannah adds in a singsong voice, as if I were one of her twins.
I never said I was changing my last name. Hell, I never said I was getting married.
“Rolls off the tongue real easy.” Hannah’s still singing.
She laughs.
My sisters laugh.
I’m not laughing.
The comment hits me square in the chest. My stomach twists.
Not hard or sharp.
More like a slow, deep pull. A root being yanked. I hold my smile like it’s my armor and take another sip of sweet tea, tasting nothing.
“Guess we won’t be seeing you around The Hive as much once you’re living with him.” Natalie leans back in her chair, tapping the edge of her beer, watching the stage.
“Are you going to have a big wedding?” Josie sucks in a deep breath, as if trying to cool her mouth down. “Or elope?” Her sticky fingers pick up another wing. “Like, at Christmas, are we gonna discover you’ve been married the entire year?”
“Ya’ll, I never said anything about marriage.”
“She’s gonna elope.” Josie dives into her wing.
“I’m going to have to plan your bridal shower ASAP.”
I make a face at the excrement in Hannah’s tone. Doesn’t see the horror on my face at the idea of her planning a huge bash where I’m the center of attention?
My gaze drifts across the tent, where Hart is talking to the mayor and pointing at the banner.
He smiles at something Mayor Thomas says, then his eyes catch mine, as if they’ve been fixed on me all night.
But this time, all I feel is the way the conversation has boxed me in like a neat little package with a future already printed on the label: Wilde Property. Handle with Care.
A house on land I didn’t choose. A name that doesn’t come with my own. A history I didn’t get to rewrite, but only to marry into.
My heart thuds once, low and uncertain.
My sisters don’t mean anything by it.
But I hear it anyway. Not the teasing, but the truth behind it.
I’m not just falling in love with Hart Wilde. I’m falling into the enemy’s lap. The legacy. The bloodline.
It’s all too much. Too fast. I gotta get out of here.
“Excuse me.” I stand and leave before they can say another word.
My mind spins with thoughts as I push my way through the crowds. The tents exit can’t come soon enough. The fresh air hits me, and I’d hoped it would calm my racing mind.
It doesn’t.
It does the opposite.
In the quiet of myself, all their predictions of my life hit me hard—marriage, moving in, babies, leaving everything behind.
I built my life, my routine, and my career.
Can I really step away from it all for him? For a Wilde?
The idea of sharing a space, every day, forever, sounds so permanent, too fast.
I love him.
I always have.
But giving up the independence I’ve fought so hard to obtain?
The Hive that is all mine. The nights I spend with my sisters, the quiet mornings with just myself and my coffee. Am I ready to share this with him? Am I prepared to trust him?
That’s what it all comes down to—this trust between us.
He lied to me. He ghosted me. He hid behind fear, hurting me along the way. What if he does it again? Like the night of the big game. Like the last ten plus years.
I can barely catch my breath.
I bend forward, my hands grasping my knees. Breath scrapes at the top of my throat. It’s too tight. Not enough air.
I stare at the ground. Blurred gravel. A crushed cigarette.
Am I dizzy?
Or just scared?
The tent behind me buzzes with laughter, music, stomping line-dancing boots, while my heart thunders, my body trembles, and the blood rushing in my ears is deafening.
Then I feel a hand on my back, and I shoot up without thinking.
My elbow cracks against something solid.